“Because after that, I can apply to the nursing program.”
Annie jumped up.
“So you’re going?”
Grace’s smile disappeared slightly.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Why?”
“Because wanting something and being able to do it are different.”
That evening, she made a budget.
I watched her from across the table.
Rent.
Electricity.
Food.
Transportation.
Books.
Childcare.
Even with Eleanor’s trust covering tuition, the numbers didn’t quite work.
“We can help,” I said.
Grace immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“I already work for Arthur.”
“You garden for three hours on Saturdays.”
“I can do more.”
“You’re eleven.”
“That’s old enough to rake.”
“It is not old enough to support a household.”
I sat back.
She caught herself.
Then she smiled.
“Mom’s letter specifically covered this.”
“It did?”
“Maybe not raking.”
“What did it say?”
“That I should let you be your age.”
I couldn’t argue with Mom.
