Jamee did not say a word. She just sat there flipping through a magazine. It hurt Darcy to even look at her blackened eye and swollen cheek. But as bad as the bruises were on the outside, Darcy knew it was the inside that was really hurting in Jamee. Mom did not seem to notice that anything was wrong, though. She was so preoccupied with the news of Dad’s return that she barely saw what was happening to Jamee.

“I’ve made up my mind,” Mom said at dinner. “I went through a few hours when I had a strong desire to call your father. I’m past that now. What good would it do? He’d offer lame excuses for what he did, like he always did. He’d bring up all the old stuff again, how it shamed him that I made more money than him, and how that made him feel less than a man. How I didn’t support him in those get-rich-quick schemes, and how I wasn’t the loving wife he’d hoped for. I don’t need to be brought down by all that. ”

“I understand, Mom,” Darcy said.

“Yeah,” Jamee agreed, “who wants that bum back in our lives anyway?” Jamee’s lower lip trembled as she spoke. Darcy saw something in Jamee’s eyes—the sudden dulling of a spark of hope. A hope, however far-fetched and wild, had risen in her heart when her father came back. This much had been obvious to Darcy.

The daddy who had once treasured Jamee had reappeared. Maybe, by some unknown magic, he could make her feel special again. Jamee would never admit to such a thing in words, but Darcy knew her well enough to see hope flicker in her brown eyes. In Jamee’s world of ear-shattering hip-hop music, of a much loved, now almost lost Grandma, a boyfriend who hurt and betrayed her, a father who abandoned her, even a slim thread of hope flared bright against the darkness. But now it too had gone out.

Jamee usually ate her dessert right after dinner, especially when it was Mom’s apple pie, but she left the table tonight without touching it. “I’ve got to study for a history quiz,” she said. Mom seemed very pleased. Mom winked at Darcy as if to say, “See, her interest in school is finally blooming. She’s hitting her stride like I said she would. ”

Darcy thought about it. She could not recall hearing Jamee say anything about taking history this marking period. She shrugged her shoulders, deciding to ask Jamee about that later.

After Mom left for work, the drum-beat of dismal music flowed from Jamee’s room again. The lyrics of the rap were drowned out by the brainbusting beat of charging rhythms. It was just as well. The lyrics were about doom and gloom. It sounded as though the music was celebrating the end of the world.