Chapter 7: The Chore List

My mother was at the kitchen sink with her sleeves pushed up.

It was a quarter past seven, and she was washing a stack of breakfast plates that were not hers.

Out on the patio the rest of the house was eating pancakes in the sun.

"Mom," I said. "Stop."

"It's only a few dishes, honey. I don't mind."

"I mind."

She looked at the sheet taped to the refrigerator and her cheeks went pink.

"Gail asked me so nicely last night."

I took the paper down.

I folded it in half, then in half again, and I put it in my back pocket.

"Jenna Rask, what are you doing?"

Gail stood in the doorway in her visor and a sundress covered in lemons.

"I'm taking down a list," I said.

"That list is for the benefit of everyone. A house this big has to run. Everybody pitches in."

"Then put yourself on dishes. Put Brooke on trash. My parents are not the help."

Gail smiled at me, patient and sweet.

It was the smile she had used on waiters for as long as I had known her.

"Honey, no one said help. Colin told me your mother likes to feel useful, ever since you two..."

She stopped.

I waited.

"Ever since we two what?" I said.

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