Big Fat Disaster by Beth Fehlbaum Page B

throws her hands up and mouths, “
What?
”
    I mouth, “Shut up!”
    Mom blasts, “
Yes
!” She whips around, and her eyes look wild. Just as suddenly, it’s like she hits a switch in her mind and stares at the remote in her hand. She sputters, “Yes…I said some…things…that day. And…just because I accepted Leah’s offer doesn’t mean that I’ve changed my mind about…everything. We’re still the same people we were.”
    Her words echo off the walls of our packed-up home, and I wonder if they sound as empty to her as they do to me. I heave myself out of the chair and place myself between Mom and Drew. “So, when are we moving?”

    Friday morning, just before the crew Mom hired shows up with a moving truck, I drag a stepladder to my room, peel a glow-in-the-dark star from my ceiling, and slide it into my pocket.
    Within a couple of hours, the house is just a shell. Mom and Drew give it one last walk-through while I start the car and roll down the windows to release the August heat. Mom’s locking the front door when the News Ten van pulls up at the end of our driveway, blocking us in.
    Susie Harlan hurries up our driveway. Her cameraman follows a few feet behind. She glances at me in the car and continues toward Mom, then abruptly stops and comes back to me. My stomach clenches.
    She smiles. “So, you’re moving, huh?”
    I nod.
    “That’s exciting. Where are you going?” Her notepad seems to appear out of thin air. I narrow my eyes at her. Drew opens the rear passenger door and gets in without a word.
    “That’s none of your business,” Mom says from behind the cameraman.
    Susie turns to her. “Good morning, Mrs. Denton. I see that you’ve vacated the house within the two-week window that the government gave you.”
    Mom’s doing her
nodding and smiling
thing, but her eyes are shooting lasers.
    “As we speak, the grand jury is meeting to decide whether to indict your husband on charges of embezzlement and theft with intent to defraud. Do you have any comment?”
    Mom gives me a split-second glance that I read as
“Not a word,”
and turns her icy stare back to Susie. She shakes her head, says nothing.
    Susie presses, “Are you leaving town, or will you be remaining in the community?”
    Mom moves to the driver’s side and opens the door. She tosses her purse onto the seat, gets in, and cranks up the air conditioner.
    Susie leans into the car. She’s so close to me that I can see the line where her makeup ends on the underside of her jaw. “Do you still believe that your husband is the ‘family values’ candidate?”
    Mom starts rolling up the window on Susie, who freaks out a little. “Hey!” She jerks backward.
    Mom leaves the window open about a fourth of the way from the top. She speaks loudly above the blasting air conditioner. “I do have one comment for you, if you’d like it.”
    Susie lunges toward the window, her eyes just above the glass. “Yes?”
    “You have thirty seconds to move that van before I call the competing news station and give an
exclusive
interview.” Mom glances at her watch. “Your time starts…now.”
    When Susie doesn’t budge, Mom pulls her phone out of her purse, appears to press some numbers, and says, “Yes, I need the number for KVUE in Dallas, Texas…thank you.” She glances at Susie. “It’s ringing.”
    Susie’s obviously irritated. “Mrs. Denton, I’m just doing my job, reporting the news. Your husband is a public figure, and, to be honest, most people believe that you
had
to know something was going on. Would you care to dispute that?”
    Mom ignores her and speaks into her phone. “Hello, my name is Sonya Denton. I was Miss Texas twenty-two years ago. My husband is Reese Denton, the now former candidate for United States Senate. I’d like to speak to your producer. I have a story for you.” She shoots a look at Susie and adds, “An
exclusive
story.”
    Susie squeaks, “You’re really going to give
them
an interview?”
    Mom