“But at another level, frustration—and fear—twisted every ounce of pleasure out of her. I can’t believe I just spent twenty minutes arguing with Ida over whether or not today is Monday, she thought, running a hand through her short, time-saving hairdo. Ida Jane replaced the phone’s receiver on its cradle with a telling thwack. She gave Andi a petulant look. “Beulah agrees with you. It is Monday.” Under her breath she added something that sounded like, “But it feels like Tuesday.” Andi’s first in...clination was to cry. A feeling alien to her nature. Her sisters would both vouch for the fact that the only time Andi Sullivan cried was in animal movies. Reading the young-adult novel Julie of the Wolves had reduced her to a blubbering idiot. Fortunately, she’d been in her sleeping bag with a flashlight at the time, so no one knew. But this crisis with her aunt was having the same effect. As a see-a-problem-then-fix-it kind of person, Andi couldn’t sit back and watch the only mother she’d ever known slowly deteriorate.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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