Page 22 of Secret Spark
After a deep sigh, Mom said, “All I’m saying is we don’t have these problems in West Vector.”
Because it’s too boring in West Vector.Changing the topic, Sadie said, “How’s Dad’s garden doing? Any tomatoes yet?”
“We have a few cherry tomatoes just about ready to pick. The peppers and cucumbers are growing steadily. Are you growing anything on your balcony?”
Ugh, she’d told Mom countless times about the vindictive pigeon. Why did she never remember? It was one more terrible thing about living in the big, bad city. “Not this year. I don’t get a good amount of direct sunlight. What I’ve planted in the past hasn’t done very well.”
Mom went on about plants that did well in indirect sun. Sadie finished folding her hand towels. Joan could probably grow whatever she wanted on her sunny balcony. If she had time in between fighting crime to do a little container gardening.
Okay, this was silly, and all kinds of presumptive. She should just leave Joan a note saying hi. Pass along her phone number. If Joan was interested, she’d text. If not, they’d be friendly neighbors.
“Oh, you know what,” Sadie said, doing her bestI just thought of somethingvoice. “I promised to loan something to one of my neighbors. I should bring it to her before it gets too late.”
“What are you loaning?” Mom’s tone went toOh no, not again.
“Sugar. For baking something.”
“Just some sugar? Not a hundred dollars or your dead grandmother’s pearl earrings?”
Sadie stifled a groan and forced out, “A cup of sugar. That’s all.”
Mom made a sound that was part disbelief, part relief.
“I got Grandma’s earrings back. Not everyone I date is a jerk.”
This time, Mom’s snort was ripe with skepticism.
“I’ll call you this weekend, okay?” Sadie said. “Tell Dad to text me pictures of the garden.”
“I will. Take care. Look both ways when you walk to work. Are you still walking home in the dark by yourself?”
“We’ll talk this weekend. I really have to go.”
They said love yous and goodbyes, and then Sadie hopped off the couch. Mom meant well. She didn’t like how often Sadie’s kindness had been exploited by the wrong people. But the overprotective thing didn’t help. It was probably what made those types of people attractive in the first place. Like she could prove her parents wrong about all her life choices by rebelling against societal norms. By not settling down in the suburbs with a nine-to-five office job and sensible partner.
Hanging out with a Superhero would be one heck of a subversive move. Mom was scared of anyone with abilities beyond what most of the population possessed. The rest of the family thought they were a public nuisance more than anything. They hadn’t seen firsthand all the good the Supers did.
In her slightly cluttered kitchen, she pulled a pink-polka-dotted page off the notepad on the side of the fridge.
Hi neighbor!
Let’s swap coffee recipes when you’re free. Stop by my apartment or Vector City Coffee.
Sadie
She added her phone number, then folded it in half. She wrote Joan’s name on one side, stopping herself from drawing a heart on it like a dork. Then she scuttled out of her apartment before she lost her nerve. Her day-off-work sailor shorts and green-and-white striped shirt were cute should Joan be home.
Sadie knocked, then listened for movement inside.
Nothing.
Oh, well. Crime fighting—or personal training—could happen anytime, day or night.
Joan didn’t have a wreath or mat or anything to personalize her doorway. Where could the note go so it wouldn’t get lost?
Sadie tried sliding it between the door and doorjamb. Several beeps sounded from inside, like an alarm. Uh-oh.
She left the note sticking out and backed up. She was halfway to her place when the door cracked open. Several seconds later, Joan peeked through the opening.