Tora: Ready Jen-the-hen? Back to school...pick you up 8:00?

Me: Thx. See you then.

I'm up too early. I forgot to reset my alarm, which is programed to give me time for a before-school run. I'm not quite there yet, though. Better to see how my head feels ater a day of class.

So, a good forty-five minutes earlier than I need to be, I'm down in the kitchen, showered and dressed, opening and closing cupboard doors, staring at cereal boxes, wondering if I shoud use the time to make pancakes, and getting between my mother and her laptop one too many times.

She bumps into me as she turns from the coffee maker to her laptop, which has a place in every room in the house. Here, in the kitchen, it snugs in beside the fruit bowl. "For God's sake, Jen. What are you doing?"

"I'm, uh, making oatmeal, I guess." I fill the kettel and switch it on.

"So, how bad is it?" I should be used to it, but it still catches me off guard when my mom picks up conversations seemingly out of nowhere on her headset. The coffee's at peak ercolation and the kettle's heading to the boil. My mom wrinkles her nose. "Excuse me, Ryan. Let me just get somewhere quieter. It's like a zoo in here. Now, you were saying?"

I plunk a teabag into my mug, and green tendrils swirl out as I pour the boiling water over it. Crap. Not enough water left for my oatmeal. I refill the kettle and start again.

I tap my feet. Wait for the tea to steep. Drum the countertop. waait for the kettle to boil.

Bing.

My mom has an eamil. What a shock. My eyes slide to the screen. Not one, but six new messages have piled up bold and important in her inbox since I last saw her check it five minutes ago.

The kettle clicks off and I turn away, just as something catches my eye. Jen.

I step back. Squint at the screen. Re: Questions about Jennifer.

It's my mom's email.

But it's about me.

The sender's name washes a wave of memories through me. Myrtle Beach B&B.

Long grasses. Huge skies. Gorgeous beaches. Gravel roads. Cows. The bakery, the general store, the village. The ferry.

Our Island cottage.

The B&B beside it. Nearly a kilometre away by the long driveways and concession road; a third of that distance on the path mowed through the hayfield between the two properties.

Owned by Liam and Cassidy.

Cassidly, baking the best pies in the world; carrying them out to the deck for me to devour with my big brother, Jude.

Jude and I always starving from building forts in the weeping willows, and from long "wild trukey hunts" led by Liam.

Liam, showing us how to build a bonfire; loading us up with buckets of corn to throw to the ducks in the pond.

The kettle's gone quiet and is going cold. My finger hovers over the touchpad. One click will tell me what questions Liam and Cassidy have about me.

My mom has the right to privacy.

I have the right to know what's being said about me.

I hold my breath, cross my fingers and click.

Scroll past the top threads:

Cassidy: We understand, thanks for replying so quickly.

My mother: It's an interesting offer Cassidy. Bt given the current circumstances, I don't think the time is right...

To the original:

Hi Olivia,

I hope this finds you well. It feels like must too long since we've seen you, and we're looking forward to the summer when we hope you'll be around more. Speaking of the summer, Liam and I have a question for you. It's more of a question for Jen, I suppose, but we though we should run it by you first.

The B&B is getting so busy we didn't have a mment to ourselves last summer. As the weather is getting warmer, and our bookings are picking up again, Liam and I are remembering how much hard work it was. We got talking about it last night ad were wondering if Jen would be interested in working for us this summer?

Of course, we know you and Todd would have to OK it first, which is why I'm contacting you. it goes without saying we'd keep an eye out for her, and pay her fairly, and maybe give her some time off!

Let us know what you think and when we might expect to see you. Drinks on the deck?

Best wishes,

Cassidy.

A job. I've never had one. The cabin. It's been ages since we've gone - between my parents' work, and my showing, and Jude, who graduated from Murray State - there just hasn't been the time, or the reason, to drive to Myrtle Beach and the nearby cabin.

So, do I want it? A job? The cabin?

I know what I do want. the chance to decide for myself.

My mom's footsteps approach. The loose floorboard in the hallway creaks. My heart double-thumps, and there's a flutter in my throat. But I don't close the message. Don't click outof her email program. I stand my ground and wait.

The best defence is a good offense. It was my lawyer-mother herself who taught mme that. So , before she can register my nosiness, before she can call me on it, I'm on it, I'm on her. "Were you ever going to tell me about this?"

"Exuse me?"

"This message from Cassidy." I peer at the screen. "Which first came three days ago. And, which it appears, you've already answered on my behalf, without asking me."

"The message was to me, Jennefer."

"About me."

She walks to her laptop. clicks out of the message, out of her email. Closes the lid. Stands as straight as she can. "I'm your mother."

"Yeah, mother. Not boss."

"Woah, girls. What's going on here?" My dad heads straight for the cupboard which contains his coffee flask. Picks it up and turns to the coffee maker. "Well?" His eyebrows are high as he lifts the carafe from the burner. "Olivia?"

"Jen has been reading my personal email."

Cassidy offered me a job and she turned it down without even asking me."

My dad sets his flaps down, stares at me. "And, just who is 'she'?"

Shit. I should have known he'd take her side. "Sorry. Mom."

"Apologize to your mother."

I move my eyes to her without changing my stance, or my expression. "I'm sorry I called you 'she'."

My mom nods. Allows a tiny smile to turn up the corners of her mouth before pushing it down. "Apology accepted." She reaches for her coffee mug.

"So, what's this about a job?"

My mom's hand stops shy of the handle.

I jump in. "Cassidy and Liam need help at the B&B. I don't know all the details because I never got to read the email..." Don't look at her, don't make it worse.... "....But they'll pay me."

"Hmmm. It might be good for you to have a job."

"Todd!" The word stats shrill, before my mom pulls her voice back down. It's a well-known fact that my mom gets to make ninety-eight percent of the decisions, but when my dad decides to weigh the other two percent of the time, watch out. My mom has to treat carefully here if she wants to keep this particular decision in ninety-eight percent territory. "I understand where you're coming from, Todd, but there are other considerations. We should probably talk about it."

He checks his watch. This conversation has already put him three minutes behind schedule. "Fine. Tonight, then."

A "bye" for me, and a peck on the cheek for my mom, and he's out the door.

"Good morning Mr. Williams!" Oh, thank god for Tora.

I abandon my never-filled bowl, and cooled-down kettle. Grab a banana from the fruit bowl. Mutter "better go," without meeting my mom's eyes, and I'm out on the porch in the fresh spring air in no time.

"You good?" Tora asks. "OK with going to school?"

"Oh yeah. I'm ready. It's time."