Fifty-Nine
Katty pushed Bea in the grocery cart. Her heart pounded. "We need things to snack on. Quick and easy." She grabbed two bags of potato chips, one bonus bag of pretzels. Jitters told her to run. "What do you want, Bea? Cereal?"
At the word, cereal, Bea's head popped up. "Please, Mommy? Please? Cheerios? Honey Nut Cheerios? Please?" Bea kicked her feet. "And roni and cheese, Mommy." She pointed. "That one!"
Katty rubbed her temples. No headache please—not today. "No, I think we'd better have liver or ... " She whispered to Bea, nose to nose. "We have to buy stuff we can eat in the car, okay? Not sure we can go ... back. For awhile." She looked into Bea's eyes. "Remember?"
Bea nodded her head up and down, a solemn expression in her eyes. Big girl. "Yeah, Mommy. Okay."
"How abou
