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A Knife to Remember

A Knife to Remember

Titel: A Knife to Remember
Autoren: Jill Churchill
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her teenage years. “We won’t go any farther than our own yard.“
    “This week it isn’t our yard. I’ve rented it to the movie company. Part of what they’re paying for is us staying out of their way.“
    “Aw, Mom. Let them go,“ Mike said. “They’ve got a security guy to keep people out. He won’t let them get in the way.”
    Instead of being grateful for his older brother’s help, Todd turned on him furiously. “Stop being so... so... big!“ Todd sputtered. Jane suspected he’d rejected a number of adjectives that were popular among sixth grade boys, but wouldn’t have gone over well at home. “Just ‘cause you don’t have to go to school tomorrow and the next day! Mom! Please can’t I please stay home, too?“
    “Todd, you know you can’t. But they’ll still be working when you get home from school anyway. You’ll get to see plenty.“
    “Mom, it’s just not Fair!“ Katie whined. Jane gave her a look.
    “Yeah, yeah,“ Katie said. She raised her hands like a conductor and the boys joined in the chorus of Jane’s oft-repeated line, “ ‘Life isn’t fair.’ “
    The argument sputtered on throughout the evening and became more wide-ranging. Jane was accused of being an insensitive mother, obsessive about meaningless academic considerations at the cost of her children’s social and intellectual development. Not that Todd had the vocabulary to put it that way, but that was the point.
    Katie tried a pity ploy, not having caught on yet that crying didn’t dissolve her mother’s hard heart, but merely drove her to a frenzy of irritation. Then Katie moved on to guilt, working up an imaginary scenario in which Jane, unreasonably favoring her firstborn, had somehow suborned the school district in advance to let the high school be off for the exact day filming was to start, therefore deliberately slighting her two youngest children, whom she probably never wanted to have anyway.
    Jane found herself actually wondering what had made her think it was a good idea to have three children. But she held firm, not because she believed that missing school would have been such a bad thing, but because she knew they’d inch closer and closer to the production if they were allowed to stayhome and eventually get in trouble for which she’d be held responsible.
    It didn’t help that Mike was really being insufferably smug and adult about the fact that he’d been promised some kind of job, however menial, on the set.
    Jane finally escaped her bickering progeny by pleading mending that needed to be done so that she could go hide from them in the minuscule guest room where she kept the sewing machine. When she looked out that window around ten-thirty, the floodlights had been turned off, vans full of workers were just pulling away, and a security guard was standing in her backyard talking on a mobile phone.
    She already felt exhausted from having the movie filmed in her backyard and the filming hadn’t even started yet. She sighed, remembering that she’d meant to get Katie aside sometime this evening and break the news that she and Mel were going to New York for the weekend.
    But she hadn’t the energy left for another confrontation. And teenage girls, like dogs, could sense fear and use it to their advantage. No, this wasn’t the time.
    Mike was up at the crack of dawn and woke Jane to ask which jeans he ought to wear.
    “Jeans?“ Jane asked blearily, trying to get her eyes open far enough to discern some difference between the two pairs he was showing her. “It’s still dark. What time is it?“
    “Almost six,“ Mike said. “I think the ones with the pocket torn off, don’t you? The ones with the hole in the knee don’t look serious enough.”
    Jane sat up in bed, shielding her eyes against the vicious glare of the bedside lamp. “Mike, I’d put those in the trash. They’re both awful. You have a new pair in your top drawer. Wear those.”
    He looked at her with surprise. “I can’t do that, Mom. They’re new.“
    “Yes. And outrageously expensive, I might add.”
    Mike knew she was still half-asleep and was dreadfully patient with her. “Mom, I’d look like a kindergartner on the first day of school in those. Too eager. Like a... a... kid.”
    Jane shook her head, trying to clear it. “Okay, okay. The one with the pocket gone. Take the cats with you—“ she called out as he headed for the door.
    Max, a gray-and-black tabby, and Meow, a yellow butterball, were not happy
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