At Home on Ladybug Farm Read Online Free Page B

a seat.”
    “Ya’ll go ahead and meet all you want,” Ida Mae grumbled. “Don’t make no difference to me what you decide anyhow.” Nonetheless, she settled herself into a wicker rocker a few feet away, her jeaned legs crossed, hands thrust into the pockets of her flowered apron. They had all done this before.
    Cici, Bridget, and Lindsay had known each other so long and so well that they could finish each other’s sentences, but even they had understood from the beginning that the only way the joint living arrangement could work was if they had a plan and stuck to it. When Ida Mae, with her strong opinions and specific routines, had joined the mix, it was clear that they needed to establish some boundaries. But with the addition of the two young people, Lori and Noah, the regular family meeting was born. Because, as sincerely as they used the term family , they were, in fact, six unrelated people who shared a household and were doing the best they could to make it work. And sometimes even the best families needed to be run like a business.
    Cici said, “Okay, here we all are. It’s the beginning of a new season, and we have a lot we need to accomplish this year. Everyone is going to have to double up on chores if we’re going to get it done. Lindsay, do you have the list?”
    Lindsay obligingly pulled a small notebook out of the back pocket of her capris. Lori slid down in her chair and muttered, “Some family meeting. Why do I get the feeling the Executive Board has already met?”
    Cici smiled at her sweetly. “That’s life on a farm, dear. Isn’t that what you told me you wanted? To get back to nature?”
    Noah scowled. “Do I have to be here?”
    “You most certainly do,” responded Lindsay, “since the first item on the agenda is you.”
    He looked suspicious, and then uncomfortable as Lindsay went on, “Sometime this month—I’ll let you know the exact date as soon as I do—a county social worker is coming by to do an assessment of Noah’s living conditions. She’ll probably want to interview each of us to find out whether or not this is a suitable environment for a teenage boy.”
    At this point Ida Mae grunted loudly and derisively. It was anyone’s guess as to whether this was an expression of her contempt for any social worker who had the audacity to question the suitability of her home, or a gesture of relief that soon there would be one less mouth to feed.
    “Personally,” Lindsay went on, with a mild expression on her face, “I think Noah has done exceptionally well here and I’d hate to see anything change that. Next month he should be ready to take his tenth-grade equivalency exam, which will not only mean he’s caught up with his peers, but will be almost a full quarter ahead of them.”
    Cici and Bridget broke into spontaneous applause, and Noah’s cheeks turned bright red. “Anyone who’s seen his work will agree he shows real promise as an artist and I think he deserves a lot of credit for keeping up with his schoolwork, his art lessons, and his chores around here.”
    “Hear, hear,” said Bridget, smiling.
    Noah shrunk deeper into his chair, looking miserable.
    “So,” said Cici, “I guess the only question is whether Noah wants to stay here as much as we want him to.”
    Noah looked around the table, scowling. “Bunch of women,” he muttered, “ganging up on me.”
    Lori leaned toward him. “It’s called manipulation,” she said, with an air of confidentiality. “Don’t fight it. They’re masters.”
    “Noah,” prompted Lindsay gently. “You know how it is in this family. If you’re in, you’re in. No breaking the rules, no bending the rules, no trying to get around the rules. We have to work together, all of us. And if we don’t, the social worker is going to find another place for you to live.”
    “If that’s what you want,” added Bridget, though with a sorrowful look on her face, “we understand.”
    “But we hope it’s not,” said Cici,