One for the Murphys by Lynda Mullaly Hunt

died.”
    “How’s that?” she asks, turning back around.
    “My mother inherited my grandpa’s condo. She wanted to sell it off, but it was tied up in some bank thing, so we had to move in or let it go to her cousin. So we packed up everything in Vegas and drove to Connecticut.”
    “I see,” she says slowly.
    I turn to her but can’t look for long. “What bothered me a lot was the funeral.”
    “Oh, did you really love your grandpa?”
    “I didn’t know him, but I heard he tried to get custody of me when I was little and that’s why my mother left here in the first place.”
    “Oh.” She purses her lips together. I know she thinks something she won’t say. “So funerals are just hard, huh?”
    “My mother always said he was a jerk, but he didn’t look like a jerk. Of course, he
was
dead.”
    She half smiles.
    “She said all these great things about him at the funeral.”
    “That must have made you feel good?”
    “Naw. She looked up funeral talks on the Net. What are they called?”
    “Eulogies?” she asks softly.
    “Oh, yeah. She talked about a dog he didn’t have and how he played tennis. He had one of those electric wheelchair things. I don’t think he played tennis.”
    “Maybe she didn’t know what to say. Eulogies are pretty rough.”
    God, she can find something nice to say about
anything
. “It’s not right,” I say. When I notice that I sound mad, I try to hide it better. “She shouldn’t have done that.”
    She turns to me. “Why does that bother you so much, do you think?”
    “Because you should never have to make up stuff about people you are supposed to love.”
    She talks like she’s thinking out loud. “Love sure is hard to understand sometimes, Carley. But I do know that people lie for people they love all the time. A lie isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s a way of protecting. As long as you protect the innocent, it’s okay.”
    I look at her.
    Her voice is soft. “I would think that you would know that better than anyone else.”
    Mr. Murphy yells up the stairs. “Julie? Did Carley stay home from school today?”
    She looks confused. “No. Why?” she answers.
    Uh-oh.
    Jack Murphy is angry when he comes into my room.
    I stand and am on my guard, holding the CD behind my back. Proof of where I was.
    “How was your day at school?” he asks.
    “My day was fine.”
    Mr. Murphy glances at his wife and steps toward me. “I just picked up a message on the machine that says you weren’t in school today.”
    “Well, I said I had a fine day; I didn’t say it was at school.”
    He inhales deeply, and I can see that he’s trying to calm himself down. I remind myself not to push it, but the thing is, I know he would never hurt me.
    “Where were you?” he asks. Mrs. Murphy stands up, looking all disappointed. Just great.
    I don’t want to tell; I feel like a dork that I blew off school to go to the library. Part of me feels I ought to be more interesting. Even my mother would be disgusted.
    He asks again. “Carley. Where were you today?”
    “I wasn’t anywhere. I didn’t rob a bank. What’s the big deal?”
    “I can take a lot of things, but lying isn’t one of them. When you went off to school without saying that you had other plans, that was a lie.”
    “So I should have made an announcement?”
    He glares at me. Then he glances at my arm. “What are you hiding behind your back?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Give it to me.”
    “No. It’s mine.” I don’t want to have to explain why I have it.
    “We don’t allow drugs in this house, Carley. You put my whole family in danger.”
    “Drugs? Why would I have drugs?” So this is what he thinks of me? That I am a danger to his family. How can I be a Murphy if he feels this way?
    Mrs. Murphy puts her hand on his shoulder. “Jack. Calm down. Carley wouldn’t do that.” She looks at me like she hopes she’s right.
    “It isn’t drugs,” I say, looking at Mrs. Murphy.
    Mr. Murphy steps up to me.