Rule #9 by Sheri Duff

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  I knock on the door with my right hand while holding a bouquet of flowers in my left. I chose the rust-colored petals at the local supermarket. They’re the ones Gaby always has at the store. The flowers last for weeks.

  An older version of Lily opens the door. High cheekbones, full lips, and a smile that fills the state of Colorado are the giveaway that this is Lily’s mother, Jack’s stepmom—Sissy. “Hello darlin’, you must be Massie. Aren’t you a pretty thing? Come on in.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. These are for you, ma’am.” I hand her the flowers. My mother told me to call her ma’am. It’s a Southern thing. I sound ridiculous.

  “Jack, I like this girl,” she hollers into the house. Then she looks at me. “But you need to stop calling me ‘ma’am.’ When I become my mother, I’m gonna scream. Call me Sis.” She grabs hold of my arm and slides hers through it.

  “Just don’t call her Sissy, that’s mine.” Jack walks into the foyer. The entire first floor is tiled. It’s warm and rustic. The walls are apricot. A large oak table sits in a room most would use as a living room. I swear twenty people could fit around that table with room to spare. The sitting room off to the side is much smaller but it fits two love seats and a couple of old antique chairs perfectly.

  “Don’t hog my mom, you little brat.” Lily bumps Jack aside as we enter the kitchen. “Hi, Massie, you look adorable. Can I get you something to drink?”

  Dinner’s amazing. We have Hot Brown sandwiches, the ones Jack told Benny and me about. Open-faced turkey and bacon with this rich, to-die-for gravy and pimentos on top. Pimentos are those red things they put in green olives. I don’t think Benny will be eating these sandwiches anytime soon. The bacon alone is off-limits.

  The night’s perfect except when Jack tries to discuss the house hunting. Every time Jack brings it up, Sissy tells him she hasn’t found anything and they’ll talk about it later.

  “I’m just trying to give you some ideas about close neighborhoods,” Jack says.

  “I know, darlin’. We’ll discuss it later. Tell me about your family, Massie.” Sissy changes the subject.

  “It’s mostly a short story. My mom and I live together. She’s single and my dad just recently got married to Alicia. I have an uncle but he doesn’t talk to my dad. That’s the long story,” I say. I don’t want to go there, even if everything is better.

  “We have those too. Tell me about school.”

  I’m relieved. School is much easier to talk about.

  After dinner Jack shows me around the house, which includes his room. We walk in and he shuts the door. It’s tidy. There are football posters and a few pennants on the wall. His desk is the only thing that is a mess. Books, his wallet, four packs of cinnamon gum, and a dirty plate with a knife on it.

  Sissy trails behind and opens the door but doesn’t come in. “I don’t think so, young man. She’s a nice girl and you will be a gentleman.”

  I blush. I can’t even look at her, so I continue to scope out his room…and find a black-and-white print of me. It’s hanging on his wall. “When did you do this?” I walk over to it.

  “I was making it the night we went back to the art shop. I was going to give it to your dad as a peace offering, but I couldn’t let it go. You form clay to make it, and then it comes out like a print on paper. I just started doing these. I thought about making your dad a copy, but you’re too sexy in it.” He grabs my hand and pulls me close.

  Sissy clears her throat and I pull away.

  “I know you were planning on going to the movies,” she says, “But I need to have a talk with Jack. Maybe tomorrow.”

  Jack walks me out to my car. And even though the kiss is great, it’s nothing like the night before. I’m worried because I can tell he is, too.