Saving Phoebe Murrow: A Novel by Herta Feely Page B

we’re friends. If they have any sense, though, they’re not saying anything. They should know better; it could just as easily have been one of their kids.’”
    Isabel gave a resigned little shrug, hoping her friend was right. “I don’t know what to think.” She paused. “Tell me the truth, do you think Phoebe was smoking?”
    â€œWho can say?” she said. “At that age they have to spread their wings; they experiment, do what their peers do; you know that.” Jane’s deep-set blue eyes probed her gently. “We’ve all been there. Even you were an imperfect teen once,” she teased.
    â€œI suppose,” Isabel said, a hint of a smile lighting her up, “but my Phoebe’s always been such a good girl.” She could hear the slight whine in her voice. Stop it, she told herself.
    â€œWhat if she did smoke? It’s not the end of the world.”
    â€œBut we can’t condone it, can we?”
    â€œNo one’s saying you should. But wait to hear her version of things. You need to talk to her.” Jane had a way of calming her. Of being truthful and at the same time providing a sane perspective.
    â€œI know. You’re right. It’s just that,” her gaze strayed off, “there’s that dangerous edge between—” A moment ago, she hadn’t noticed anyone in the room behind Jane. Now Sandy sat on the couch, not two fingers’ width from Ron, wearing a sexy grin.
    â€œBetween?” Jane said.
    â€œBetween—” she’d lost track of what she was saying. She held Jane’s eyes in the hope that her friend wouldn’t turn around. Then she remembered. “Oh, yes, between trying something once and then wanting to do it again.” A dozen examples crossed Isabel’s mind.
    â€œWell, yes, I know what you mean, but I wouldn’t worry about that with Phoebe—”
    â€œNo, maybe not,” Isabel said, “but what about the other two, Emma and Jessica? Should I just let Phoebe remain friends with them? You’ve heard stuff and so have I.” She shrugged her eyes meaningfully.
    Jane ran a thoughtful finger through her hair. “That’s a tough one. Let me sleep on it.”
    Isabel glanced off again at Ron and saw Sandy laughing and talking animatedly. She forced her attentions back to Jane, praying she wouldn’t see what a spectacle Ron was making of himself. “Feebs had a tough year last year; this one can’t be the same.”
    â€œI understand, but it won’t be. I’m sure of it.”
    â€œI hope you’re right. Still, I’m dreading the fallout. You know the whole thing will mushroom before it dies down. I wonder if we’ll have to meet with Alison Kendall. Oh, God, the whole thing’s making me incredibly tired.” Isabel knew that just as with news cycles, some other event would have to take center stage before this one disappeared from the lips of gossipy parents. She wondered what that might be. “Oh, gosh, here I am going on and on.” She paused then told her friend to go enjoy herself.
    â€œCall me if you want to talk,” Jane said.
    â€œYou know I will,” she said, and reached out to squeeze her hand. “You’re the best, Janie. Thanks.”
    â€œThanks, nothin’, how many times have you been there for me, Iz?”
    Isabel decided the time had come to go home. She strolled with Jane into another room before circling back to collect her husband.

    At once Sandy saw Isabel stride toward them. She felt Ron tense up and scoot further away from her. In the next instant, Isabel was hovering over them.
    â€œWe were just talking about you,” Sandy said, looking at her with faux innocence.
    â€œOh, really?” Isabel’s lips pressed into a tight smile.
    Sandy watched a series of emotions ripple across Isabel’s face and imagined she was dying to know what had been said.
    â€œHate to