“That'd be great,” I said.

He smiled. “No problem.”

I was thinking about the ordering and the replacing. “You know anything about Data Dork?”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and thought. “A little. Guy named Harold runs it. Seems okay, but I don't really know him. I know that store has to be struggling.”

“Why's that?”

“Just economics,” he said. “No way he can offer things at the same price that larger suppliers can. So it's gotta be tough to drum up business, competing with bigger guys.”

I nodded. Best Buy was headquartered in our state and there was a store in nearly every town. Throw in the other big box stores and the behemoth internet sellers and Johnny was probably right; Data Dork didn't stand a chance.

“I don't know that for sure,” Johnny added. “Maybe he's got a loyal customer base and he's doing fine. I'm just guessing. Never heard anything bad about him, though.”

“Okay, good to know,” I said.

Johnny glanced at his watch. “I gotta run. Need to stop at a client's office, then pick up our produce from co-op.”

I grinned. Brenda had tried to talk me into joining a local produce co-op but with my picky eaters, including Jake, I was pretty sure the bulk of what I picked up would end up in the trash. Or her compost pile.

“With all of the kids in tow?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It's not that big of a deal.”

I pictured Derek setting his client's office our house on fire. I thought that might be a big deal but I kept my mouth shut.

“I'll email you those names tonight,” he said, reaching for the door. “And if I hear anything, I'll let you know.”

“Hear anything?”

He pulled the door open. “We computer geeks all kind of hang out in the same world. Wouldn't surprise me at all if I heard something about somebody getting ahold of a large stash of computers. It's a small world.” He smiled. “So I'll keep my ears open. I can be like your spy or something.”

“I don't think Brenda will want you playing spy,” I said, laughing.

He shrugged again as he walked down the stairs on the back deck. “Hey, come on now. I'm allowed to have a little fun once in awhile, right? Maybe I'll get a goofy hat and a magnifying glass.”

“I'm gonna need a picture of that.”

He laughed and hopped down off the last step. “No problem!”

SEVENTEEN

“Have you heard any rumors?” I asked.

Emily looked at me, flat on her back on her bed. Her phone rested on her stomach. “About who?”

I'd made lasagna for dinner, one of the few dishes everyone would eat, and had just finished cleaning up the kitchen. Jake was in the shower, the younger girls were playing Barbies in their room and Will had disappeared to spend some time on his computer. It was our usual nightly routine, a little down time for everyone, but I didn't care that everyone had scattered. Everyone was home and that was what mattered.

I leaned against her door. “I don't know. Anyone.”

“I hear them all day long,” she said. “You're going to need to be more specific.”

“About the computers,” I said more specifically.

She rolled her eyes and stole a quick glance at her phone. “Oh my god. Yes. This moron said at lunch that he heard they were stolen by the kids at Moose River High as some sort of prank. I was like, are you serious? Moron.”

“That would be one heck of a prank.”

“And impossible. And stupid.” She shook her head. “I also heard they were repossessed, that they were just being repaired, and that a kid who claimed to be a gang member who graduated last year came and stole them. Except that kid works at Chipotle and is not a gang member.”

I laughed. “Good to know everyone is on the case.”

She looked at me, a puzzled expression on her face. “What actually did happen?”

I hesitated, unsure if I was supposed to share what I knew. But then I got irritated with myself because I really didn't know anything and not telling her would just perpetuate more rumors.

“They were stolen,” I said. “But I have no idea who took them. I was actually hoping you'd heard something. Other than about the Chipotle gang member, I mean.”

Emily smiled. “I think everyone just makes stuff up to create drama,” she said. “They don't know anything.”

“So nothing juicy about a teacher taking them or anything like that?”

She frowned at me. “No. That would be crazy. Why would they do that?”

“I'm just trying to cover all the rumor bases,” I said. “Maybe one of the teachers is in the Chipotle gang, too.”

She laughed. “That would actually be kinda funny if there was a Chipotle gang. Like, they met at the restaurant and they had to order a certain kind of burrito to be in the gang. Like, they couldn't order black beans, only pinto , and they had to get the super hot salsa. That's how they'd know you were in the gang.”

“Yeah and they'd all have the letter C tattooed on their arms or something.”

“And they had to make a C sign with their hands to recognize one another.” She cupped her fingers together and made a C-shape. She was taking ASL as her foreign language – another thing Jake sometimes rolled his eyes over – so I was pretty sure it was the actual sign for the letter C but I couldn't be sure.

I flashed the sign back at her. “And if someone catches you at a Taco Bell, then you're out.”

She laughed again and I joined in. I was glad I could laugh and be goofy with my teenager daughter. Yes, she had her teenage moments – she could definitely be unreasonable and hormonal and dramatic and a complete pain in the rear – but, more often than not, she was a nice kid with a good sense of humor who I missed having at home.

I tried to keep all of that in mind as I knew I was about to piss her off royally.

“So,” I said, setting myself in the doorway in case I needed to block her from running out of the room. “We need to talk about the talent show.”

Her smile vanished and she picked up her phone. “No.”

“I just wanna talk about it.”

“No,” she repeated. “I meant what I said. I'm not going to be in it.”

I tried my firm, authoritative voice. “Emily—”

“Mother,” she said, mirroring my tone. “No way, no how. You can't make me. The end.”

All of those nice thoughts I'd had were fading away quickly.

“Couple of things here,” I said cooly, keeping my eyes locked on her “One, watch your mouth. Two, it's for your school that you claim to love so dearly. And, three, I can make you do anything I want to if I apply the right leverage.”

She wrinkled her nose. “What does that mean?”

“It means you are going to be in the talent show – or I'll come up with something that will make your life even more miserable than being in the talent show might.”

She shook her head and her eyes returned to her phone. “Ha. Impossible.”

“Really?” I asked. “How does losing electronics privileges for a couple of weeks sound?”

“I have Netflix and DVR,” she said. “I don't care.”

“News flash, sweetheart. Your phone is an electronic device.”

She looked up, horrified. “I need the phone. You told me I need it. To communicate with you.”

“Yeah, well, I might change my mind,” I said. “You could use school phones if you needed to call me.”

“That's not fair,” she said.

“I know,” I told her. “But I'll totally do it.”

She sighed and threw her head back against the pillow, missing her headboard by a fraction of an inch.

“So,” I said. “Let's talk about possibilities.”

“Like the possibility of me dying from embarrassment? Yeah, let's talk about that.”

“Oh, you won't die from it,” I assured her. “Maybe a small heart attack or something.”

“Whatever,” she muttered.

“I think we could do one of two things,” I said. “We could so some sort of lip-sync number—”

“No.” Her voice was emphatic.