Friendship Makes the Heart Grow Fonder Read Online Free Page A

know.”
    Monique gave her daughter a raised brow. Kiera was a good student, a strong-minded individual who rarely got in trouble. Her
     daughter’s room was an oasis of privacy Monique had allowed her, one that Monique had never felt compelled to invade.
    Course, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t let her daughter think she would invade it—if she had due cause. “Is there something in there that your mother shouldn’t see?”
    Kiera flung herself in a kitchen chair. “I was going to tell you. I was just waiting for the right time.”
    A cold tingle washed up her spine. She ran through the usual dangerous possibilities—body piercings, tattoos, sexting with
     strangers, drug paraphernalia. She pulled the oven mitt off her hand and turned toward the cabinet, more to hide her expression
     than to pull down plates.
    “And just for the record,” Kiera said, “it’s not going to work.”
    “What?”
     “The great meal, the whole nice attitude, your aura of unshakable calm. I’ve made up my mind.”
    “Kiera,” she said, placing the first plate on the counter, “when have I ever tried to talk you out of anything?”
    “Well, I know you’re going to try to talk me out of UCLA.”
    Monique fumbled the second plate. It slipped out of her grasp and onto the counter. She pressed it to stop it from clattering.
    Los Angeles. Three thousand five hundred miles away.
    Monique feigned calm as she dished a chicken thigh on each plate, smothering them in the onion, garlic, and diced tomato sauce.
     This wasn’t what she’d planned to talk about tonight. But she’d been a mother of a teenage daughter long enough to understand
     the importance of seizing the moment.
     “I’m glad you’re telling me now, Kiera.” She added a healthy helping of the dark green callaloo. “You have to admit your
     mother deserves to have a voice in this discussion, since I’ll be writing the checks.”
    “It’s trust money, Mom. Daddy put it aside for me.”
    Her throat tightened at the sound of the word daddy . “Yes, it is. And we’re both lucky that your father had prepared so well to take care of us, long after he couldn’t physically
     do it anymore. But you know he’d want to discuss this with you, too, if he were still here.”
     “Low blow, Mom. Guilt is not a fair weapon.”
    “But it’s ageless and ruthlessly effective.”
    Turning around, Monique gave Kiera a little smile as she slipped both dishes on the table in the breakfast nook—where they
     took all their meals now that there were only two of them at home, and the dining room table had morphed into a staging surface
     for the college search. Kiera chose that moment to drop her gaze and fuss with her napkin.
    Monique settled down across from her, watching her daughter with the word “Los Angeles” echoing in her head. She looked lovingly
     at Kiera’s hair, shining with raven-blue highlights. On weekends, Kiera took great care to fluff and condition it into a flattering
     cascade of relaxed curls, but during the active sports season, she just pulled it back flat. Monique liked it better this
     way. With the stub of a ponytail, the open plaid shirt, the tank top and ripped-knee jeans, Kiera retained some remnant of
     the active little girl who once tore swaths through the backyard, catching ladybugs and sorting them by spots.
    Sometimes she missed that little girl, hidden within the perceptive, years-ahead-of-herself teenager that Kiera had become.
    Monique waited for Kiera to say something. Kiera straightened in the chair and switched her knife and fork from one hand to
     another, before idly digging into the chicken thigh. Her daughter was a deep, deep well. Monique knew this. Monique loved
     this.
    Finally Kiera glanced up through sullen lashes. “You know it’s the best film school in the country, right?”
    Monique didn’t argue the point. UCLA had always come up on their early searches for the best film schools, and it was just
     as quickly waved off