Page 26 of A Little Luck

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Page 26 of A Little Luck

“I know.” My heart beats faster, and I make a quick edit. “I put them off because I suck at writing headlines. They’re always too long or too much information—”

“Let me do it. I’m great at headlines. I can make them short and exciting. Like this one about Myrtle the Pig versus Terra Belle… I’ll handle it.”

My fingers are on the keyboard, and I study my mom in her denim overalls, plaid shirt, and long, graying hair plaited in a single braid down her back. I’ve never paid much attention to her writing skills, but when my eyes hit the clock, I don’t have much of a choice.

“Okay, give it a shot.” I nod, returning to the screen. “I trust you.”

She grins, stretching her arms in front of her before grabbing the mouse and clicking on the empty space above the first story. “I won’t let you down, Chief!”

My nose wrinkles, and I shake my head. I really could use some help around here. Occasionally Adam would proofread the stories, but I’m it when it comes to reporting, photographing, editing, and these last three weeks have been hectic with Drake kicking up trouble and the wedding plans taking up all my free time.

The warning bell dings as I finish reading my story. “Got one for the forum Drake did this afternoon?”

“Where he announced a dog for mayor?” Mom’s voice is as disgusted as Cass’s. “I’ll take care of it.”

I hit save, and we zip the files and email them to Stew just as the clock strikes four.

“Made it!” I hold up my hand, and she slaps it. “Thanks for your help.”

My mother smiles proudly. “I’d say we make a pretty good team.”

Nodding, I think about this potential new angle to our relationship. For most of my life, she’s either been embarrassing or confusing to me. I’ve only ever known her as reclusive and suspicious, but she has friends. She gets out when she wants to.

She simply marches to the beat of her own drum—a drum that believes the government is tracking us and no one can be trusted, which is odd, considering her best friend is the mayor’s daughter Gwen. Although, I guess Edna’s magician past makes her different from the usual politician.

Hell, Eureka is adifferentsmall town.

“I really appreciate your help, Mom.” And I mean it. “Maybe you can do it again next time?”

TheGazetteis published biweekly with editions on Wednesdays and Sundays, and unless there’s breaking news, we wrap up the Sunday edition on Friday evening.

“I’d love to.”

“Hey, Mom! Check it out!” Ryan’s voice is loud, and we both turn to see my son charging into the office with a solid black cat over his shoulder. “I named him Fudge! He followed me all the way home from school! Can I keep him? Can I, Mom? Cats aren’t a lot of work, and I can teach him to do tricks—”

“Ahh…” My teeth clench, and I look to my mother for help. “I don’t know, babe. Cats don’t really do tricks.”

“That’s what Miss Britt said about Edward, but Owen taught him to race and to catch a frisbee. I bet I could teach Fudge to do something.”

“You could teach him to chase the mice out of my cellar.” My mom reaches out to ruffle his dark hair.

“But Edward’s a dog,” I try to resist. “Dogs are easier to train than cats, and what if he belongs to somebody? We can’t steal another person’s cat.”

“He’s not anybody’s cat! We don’t know anybody who has a black cat.”

“We can’t possibly know that, Ryan. We don’t know everybody in town.” It’s a funny statement, considering I remember a time when we did know everybody in Eureka.

“If you let him stay outside, he can come and go as he pleases.” Mom scratches the cat’s neck, and the animal starts to purr. “He seems like a good guy, and black cats are good luck in some cultures.”

“In that case, Fudge will have his work cut out for him.” I frown, knowing I’m losing this battle.

“He’ll bring us all kinds of good luck. You’ll see, Mom!” Ryan is talking loudly, and I decide to go with Mom’s option.

“He’ll stay outside, and we’ll give him a few days to see if he doesn’t leave before making any commitments.”

Ryan tosses the cat over his shoulder again with a little hoot, and the three of us head out the door.

Being on good terms with Mom makes me happier than I expect, and I loop my arm through hers. “Want to have dinner with us? We’ll probably just have hamburgers, but you’re welcome to join us.”




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