Shadow Girl Read Online Free

of bargains. I love toys almost as much as my kids do.”
    When Mrs. Adamson went over to rearrange a display some customers had messed up, Jules watched her and wondered why some adults treated kids as if they didn’t remember being one, and others treated kids as if they never forgot.

CHAPTER
5
    J ules got home around five o’clock, tidied up, and played her recorder.
    An hour later, the usual worries began. “What’s keeping him?” she said out loud.
    It isn’t snowing. That can’t be it
.
    He has to work overtime. That happens sometimes
.
    There’s an extra-long lineup at the bank. Fridays are busy
.
    Crowds in the supermarket. For sure
.
    Not many taxis. Not at this time of night
.
    All those things
.
    But when her dad was late, it was almost always because he went for a few beers with his work buddies and forgot the time, especially on payday.
    By seven-thirty, Jules had just about given up when she heard her dad fumbling with the outer screen door.
    “Jules, Jules, I need your help,” he called out. Taxi drivers often helped him carry the groceries in, but not today. He took a taxi home on Fridays because he had so much to carry, but also because he smashed up their old wreck of a car a year ago, along with somebody else’s. That was scary. He almost went to jail.
    Jules didn’t care if they had a car, although her dad was an auto mechanic, and he thought it was crazy that they couldn’t afford to buy one. He worked at Thompson Motors and could make any kind of rotten car go.
    “Hi, Dad. I’ll take the bags.”
    “Hi, honey!” he said in a loud voice.
    His whole body smells of beer
.
    “I was getting worried about you.”
    “What the hell for? I made pretty good time, pretty good time.”
    “Sure. It’s not so late.” Jules carried the groceries to the kitchen table and went through the bags eagerly to see what was in them.
    On days when her dad drank a lot, he bought things he wouldn’t normally get, like fancy cuts of meat or canned asparagus, forgetting to buy milk or bread. But it looked as though he’d covered the basics and bought only a few weird extras.
    “How often do we have steak, Jules? We’re going to have steak tonight. Steak and potatoes and mushrooms.”
    “Did you buy potatoes, Dad? We’re all out.”
    “Sure, I think I did.” He started searching through the bags. “Whoops,” he said, laughing like a little boy. “Guess I forgot. But it’s okay. I got some fantastic bread. We’ll have that and steak and mushrooms, and I even bought dessert.” He pulled out a package of brownies and a box of powdered strawberry doughnuts.
    Jules’s eyes lit up. “Great. I can hardly wait.”
    “You’re a poet and don’t know it.”
    They both laughed.
    She put the groceries away while he cooked. Before long, dinner was ready. Jules didn’t like steak as much as her father, but she’d eat anything.
    He kept drinking.
    “I’m finished, Dad. Can I have dessert?”
    “Sure, hon.”
    Powdered strawberry doughnuts. Ooey-gooey good!
    She gobbled one down.
    Her dad was in a good mood, but she knew from experience that beer was more responsible for it than the fact that it was payday and Friday night. It didn’t matter, though.
    After she’d done the dishes, they turned on the TV. Jules hoped her dad would just get tired and fall asleep.
    She looked outside the living room window. It had started to snow. She asked if she could have some of the canned orange drink he’d bought.
    “Okay, but that’s got to last. I don’t want it all gone tonight.”
    “No, no. I won’t drink it all.” But she could have. It tasted so good, and she never seemed to get enough.
    She gulped the orange drink quickly and went back to the living room. Her father was having another beer. She’d counted the empty bottles when she was in the kitchen, like she always did.
    “Just a lot of crap!” he said, switching channels.
    Jules could stay up late any night of the week when her dad wasn’t