Upstander James Preller (best finance books of all time .txt) 📖

his life—and he was pretty fabulous for a long time until, all at once, he wasn’t so fabulous anymore.

Now it’s their mom, Patti, and this latest boyfriend Ernesto—who was perfectly fine in a lumpish, who-really-cares kind of way. Mary kept her distance. She couldn’t tell if Ernesto was for real or not. Here to stay or just passing through, eating all the good snacks. All her life, it had always been Mary and Jonny, together. Not aligned against their mother, exactly, but definitely #TeamKids. And then Jonny ghosted them all.

Mary heard a shout. She lifted the headphones away from her left ear.

Her mother was screaming up the stairs.

Jonny’s door slammed.

Give it up, Mom, Mary thought.

Give up the ghost.

She turned up the music, loud, but it never got loud enough.

7[pic]

Mary liked Chantel, and they would have hung out more if Chantel wasn’t so incredibly overbooked. Where Mary enjoyed long stretches of free time, Chantel always had something to do: sports, clubs, music lessons, Girl Scouts, household chores—even a mini job as a mother’s helper, caring for a neighbor’s eight-month-old baby. Chantel never had downtime. It left Mary feeling sorry for Chantel—so scheduled!—and also a little envious. So it came as a refreshing change of pace when Chantel invited Mary over for quesadillas. “My travel basketball practice got canceled, so I asked if I could invite a friend over,” Chantel explained over the phone. “We could watch a movie, too, if you want.”

Chantel had three little brothers that she good-naturedly referred to as “the monsters.” They were lively and cute: Darius, Jamel, and Keyon, though Mary wasn’t completely straight on who was who. Mr. Williams was away in France traveling on business, so Mary and Chantel helped Mrs. Williams prepare dinner. Even the boys had jobs. They set the table and filled water glasses without grumbling.

Mrs. Williams was one of those “involved” parents who asked a lot of questions. Not nosy, but Mary could tell that Chantel’s mom was probing to get the lowdown on things. Mary did her best to present herself as likeable and friendly, that was one of her talents, except she wished she had a better story to tell. No, no father; no, not playing sports; no, my brother dropped out of college; no, we’re not planning any trips this summer; and so on. Maybe she should make things up? Invent a more interesting life. Yeah, played with baby elephants in Kolkata, India. Super fun!

After dinner, which included ice cream and prayer and salad (but not in that order), it was bath time and story time and every other kind of time Mary could imagine. “Getting the monsters to bed is a big production around here,” Chantel offered with a smile. Mary helped Chantel clear the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher.

Chantel’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it and shook her head. Mary sensed the message had upset Chantel, because she grew quiet and had a faraway look in her eyes. Suddenly, Chantel held out her phone and said, “He keeps asking me to send a picture.”

At that moment, Mrs. Williams entered the kitchen. Chantel hurriedly pocketed her phone. “It looks great, girls, thank you. Mary, you are welcome to stay if you’d like. I believe Chanti had her hopes on a horror movie. I’d be happy to drop you home if you can’t get a ride.”

Mary looked at Chantel, who smiled and nodded.

“That sounds great, Mrs. Williams. I’d love that!” Mary replied. “Thank you very much.”

Mrs. Williams pointed two index fingers toward the ceiling, reminding Mary of an old Western gunfighter. “Listen, I’ve got the three amigos up there. Jamel and Keyon are in the tub. I have no idea on God’s green earth what Darius is up to. I think he’s building a Lego space station or alien prison or some such folderol.” She waved a hand, amused by it all. “We haven’t had any drownings yet, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I can help—” Chantel began to offer.

“No, Chanti, you entertain our guest while I wrestle those rascals into bed.” Mrs. Williams made a loud whew sound, as if she was exhausted, but her eyes told a different story. They twinkled brightly. Maybe she didn’t mind all that mothering after all.

The girls didn’t pay close attention to the movie, except for the really good parts. They’d both seen it already. Instead, they huddled close, sharing one light blanket, and talked.

“Who is asking you for a pic?”

“Hakeem,” Chantel answered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Promise you won’t tell. It’s so stupid.”

“Of course,” Mary said. She paused a beat. “What did you do?”

Chantel craned her neck to make sure her mother wasn’t nearby. “I didn’t even understand him at first,” she admitted. “I was like, a picture of what?”

Both girls cackled.

“You didn’t, did you?” Mary asked.

“No!” Chantel answered. But after a pause, she admitted, “I didn’t say no, either. I made excuses like, ‘I’m busy’ or ‘I look bad right now.’ You know?”

Mary nodded. She didn’t know, she’d never been asked before, but it was exciting to think about. Mary wondered if Hakeem had asked Alexis or Chrissie. Some boys were like that. She’d heard that older guys collected pics of girls and swapped them like trading cards. It was pretty gross. But also a little flattering. Like it might be nice to be asked by the right person, even if the answer was still definitely no. Some girls said it was no big deal, that sharing a photo was the new first base.

“I like him,” Chantel said. “Hakeem’s nice and funny and—

“—kind of good-looking,” Mary added, exaggerating slightly.

Chantel let out an embarrassed laugh. “I guess, yes. But he keeps asking me. ‘Send a pic, send a pic. You look so good.’ All that stuff. Persistent, you know? I’m afraid if I shut him down, he’ll stop talking to me.”

They both stared at the movie for a few minutes. Someone was getting stabbed with scissors. “Lupita Nyong’o is so beautiful,”