Slipping Through My Fingers | John B Little Sister

Chapter 4

"I'll deal with John B later." 

"I-" Lu fumbled with her words before channeling all the teenage rebellion she had so often seen sparking in her brother and his friends, "I'm not leaving without him."

"Yes." Cheryl stated sternly, placing her hands firmly on the table and leaning in close to Lu, no longer allowing her to break eye contact, "Yes you are." 

Lu's eyes flicked out to her little kingdom. There was no one out there. There was never anyone out there.

***

Lu didn't pack much. In all honesty she didn't own much to pack to begin with.

A dress or two as well as volumes three, five, and twelve of The Famous Five, was all Lu had to her name. Along with the overalls on her back and one of John B's old caps that he had given to her on her last birthday.

She had wanted to bring her chickens, but the deputy that had been waiting in Cheryl's car turned her down. He was a big man, the deputy. A big man with angry eyes and a stupid face.

Just one? Please? She had attempted to reason with him as she carried her bag to the car.

Which one? He had asked. As if he was actually considering it. 

That one. Lu pointed to the one that had been pecking by her feet that morning. She's real quiet, she'll be nice. 

It's not very nice to pick favorites y'know. And then he had laughed. As if he was funny. As if anything about what was happening was funny.

Lu really didn't like that man. She'd only met him that morning. And had only been around him for less than an hour. But she was almost certain that she hated him. So much so that she refused to remember his name. He didn't deserve it. 

"Are you quite alright Miss Lucy-Red?" Peterkin's voice only irritated Lu further. Usually Lu liked the Sheriff. She had this fiercely kind way about her that was comforting. But not today. Lu wasn't quiet sure if she liked anyone today. 

"You're looking a bit agitated."

No shit. Lu cursed inwardly, glaring spitefully at the stapler on Peterkin's desk.

"Do you remember much about your mother Miss Lucy?" 

Peterkin's sudden question caused Lu's defiant anger to fade as quickly as it had flared. Her glare dropped from the now inoffensive stationary to the Duc taped purple Asics Cheryl had insisted she wear before leaving the Chateau. 

She scuffed the toes of her Asics against the hardwood floor as Peterkin awaited her answer.

"A bit." Lu found herself saying.

"I doubt its anything particularly fond." Peterkin sounded sympathetic, but not pitying. 

"She had nice eyes." Lu's own eyes widened at her admission. She hadn't meant to say that. 

"She still does." If Peterkin's was surprised at Lu's outburst her tone didn't betray her, "Is there anything else you recall?"

Lu shrugged. Her chest was tightening and breaths were becoming shallower.

"Do you think she was a good mother?" Peterkin's persisted. 

"I don't know." Lu rushed out, twisting her fingers together and cracking her knuckles. She was flustered. "I don't think she liked me very much."