Page 70 of Pride High 3: Yellow

Silvia nodded, as if in understanding. “And your house just happens to have a completely separate, two-story, six-car garage.”

Keisha sighed wearily. “That’s it,” she said, marching toward the Bronco. “You’ve pushed your luck. Get in. I’ll drive you home. Even though it will break Chestnut’s heart.”

“I take it all back!” Silvia said, grabbing her arm to drag her toward the house. “I’ll behave, I swear!”

They were still laughing on their way in. And despite being so huge, it really was a humble home. Omar’s house was full of expensive furniture and fancy decorations. Keisha’s house was much more practical in its furnishings. The living room they passed had multiple couches, but they weren’t suede or anything showy, covered instead in the same abuse tolerant fabrics her own family preferred. The battered coffee table was covered in a mishmash of possessions, a theme that continued throughout the house. She saw children’s toys, a backpack, someone’s rain boots, a folded open magazine, and a curled-up posterboard from a school project. The house wasn’t neglected by any means, but signs of life were everywhere, each of the large rooms seemingly necessary despite not being occupied. They didn’t run into anyone until reaching the kitchen.

“Hi, Mom,” Keisha said. “Look who’s back.”

Mrs. Hart was wiping out a cabinet. She was a thin woman with tight curls of dark hair that spilled over one side of her head. Keisha’s mother turned around, rag in hand, and beamed. “Silvia! How nice to see you again. Now please report to the party barn, because there are still dishes that need to be washed.”

Silvia laughed. She had first met Mrs. Hart—or Sharice as she insisted on being called—when volunteering at the Christmas party they threw each year for needy families. And yes, that had involved an ungodly amount of dirty dishes.

“Have you guys thought of using paper plates instead?” she suggested.

Keisha and her mother looked at each other in exasperation.

“We used to,” Sharice explained, “until my husband bought plates and cutlery from a restaurant that went out of business. He claims his way is better for the environment.”

“Even though we have plenty of composting heaps,” Keisha interjected. “And how much energy does washing all those dishes use?”

“He wants to get his money’s worth,” Sharice said with some degree of sympathy. “Even if it kills us. Speaking of which, will you be volunteering again this year?”

“Yes,” Silvia said, even though she saw Keisha making urgent gestures in her peripheral vision.

“Excellent! Because our Easter Egg Hunt is just around the corner.”

“Oh, you domultipleholidays!” Silvia said, her eyes widening before darting over to meet Keisha’s.

“Just a few,” Sharice said, resuming her work. “Thanksgiving is a big one, and we put on a picnic and fireworks show for the 4thof July. Then there’s the corn maze each Halloween, and Christmas of course.”

“Maybe I should just move in,” Silvia joked.

“Good idea!” Sharice said. “Keisha will share her room with you. And all of her things.”

“Do I look upset by the prospect?” Keisha asked with a frank expression. She winked at Silvia. “I need to use the little girl’s room, but let’s get you something to drink first.”

The refrigerator was oversized like the rest of the house and just as stuffed. Silvia went with her usual preference of iced tea.

“You’ll be okay?” Keisha asked quietly.

“Silvia nodded. She already felt at home here. Once her friend had disappeared down the hall, Silvia turned toward Sharice, who was removing objects from another cabinet so she could wipe it out, and walked over to offer her assistance.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Hart said when handing her a stack of bowls. “You’re very considerate. You’ll notice my own daughter didn’t stick around to help.” Her tone was playful rather than chastising.

“I bailed on my parents too. I’m only trying to make a good impression.”

“You’ve already done that,” Sharice said warmly. “If your father has even half your work ethic, we’ll be glad for him to join us here.”

“He’s a very hard worker,” Silvia assured her. With a pang of guilt, because he was also a liability.

“That’s better,” Sharice said after wiping out a freshly cleared shelf. “The house isn’t usually so quiet, so I thought I’d use the opportunity to cross a few things off my list.”

“When nobody is home at my place,” Silvia said, “I usually just take a bubble bath.”

Sharice shook her head. “I’m too antsy. Keisha is the same way, if you haven’t noticed. We’re jittery people. So please don’t think I’m a throwback from the fifties who feels her place is in the kitchen. I was burning bras before you were born! We share the chores in this family, and that includes cooking and cleaning. But I need to dosomethingwith my body so my mind is free to whirr away without distraction.” She tapped her temple. “I was working on our business plan for the summer when you arrived.”

“That’s how I feel when riding my bike,” Silvia said with a smile. “I know the way by heart, so my mind usually wanders.”