BooksBarbecue
Back The Wrong Family Save as PDF
Chapters (46)
  1. Praise
  2. Booklist
  3. Dedication
  4. About the Author
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. Part Two
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. Part Three
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. EPILOGUE
  42. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  43. Reader’s Guide
  44. Discussion Questions
  45. The Wrong Family Author Q & A
  46. The Wives

Juno broke the cable box. That was her big plan. She unplugged the whole thing and then, lifting it above her head, threw it at the carpeted floor in Nigel’s den. Once lightly…twice…she heard something rattle loose the third time. Then she put everything back the way she found it and waited. Nigel holed up in his den, watching an endless stream of CNN and ESPN for his mindless entertainment. To fuck with his cable box was to fuck with his precarious mental stability. But that’s what Juno wanted—everyone unstable, so she could get some answers.

Nigel spent two days arguing with the cable company over the phone. Juno, who risked a night in Hem’s Corner to hear everything, for once appreciated his loud anger. No, he would not be paying for a replacement…no, it was their faulty box, not his inability to handle it… Yes, he needed someone to come out, hadn’t he been saying that all along? The soonest was when! No, that wasn’t acceptable, there was a game he wanted to watch this weekend and he would not be put out by their incompetence…if that’s all they had…Thursday. “And can you give me a window, so I know when to be home?”

“That’s an eight-hour window!” She could almost hear the defeat in his voice. “Fine. Yes… I’ll leave the alarm off for the day and the back door unlocked. If your guy can give me notice when he gets here and leaves so I can come and lock up. Is it in the notes? Put it in the notes.”

On Thursday morning, Juno was waiting in the closet by what she guessed was 5:00 a.m. She’d had a carton of chocolate milk to drink and a few oyster crackers before she came up, and the sugar was making her feel squirmy. Squirmy was better than limp, she thought. She was wearing a gray Seahawks hoodie with the hood pulled up and a pair of Nigel’s giveaway jeans, belted with twine Juno had found in Winnie’s craft drawer. Nigel always left earlier than Winnie, usually heading out the door by six, and she wanted to be ready. On her feet were the same sneakers she’d worn the day she moved in—since they’d brought her here in the first place, she wore them for luck.