Oh, and do you happen to have any vanilla?’ ‘I think I can rustle that up,’ Joyce answered with a little sigh. ‘Oh, and I suppose it should ha...e some icing. Maybe you have whatever goes into that.’ ‘Yes, of course, Ms. Barden. I’ll be right over.’ ‘You might bring a recipe book too. I’m a little rusty at this. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever made a cake.’ Joyce stopped at three tree lots—three mostly empty Christmas tree lots—on her way home to get the ingredients and a recipe book for Ms.. "We'd better get dressed before your sister gets back." Soon we were both on the couch, Mom's arms around me, and we were watching TV again. I must have dozed off, because I awoke when Mom got up to start making dinner. I heard her on the phone, arguing with someone a few moments later, and then she came into the family room, pissed off."Your sister is staying at a friend's house." My heart stopped. Lisa must have told Mom, and Mom must have sent her away to keep us apart. I was screwed. "It. More

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