Chapter Thirteen
Bea kicked the back of Mommy's seat. The old man had looked at her, like grandpas did on TV. Bea squirmed to keep him in sight as Mommy steered the car into the street.
"Bea! Quit kicking!" Mommy tore open a pack of cigarettes and tossed the wrapper toward the floor on the passenger side, only to have the clear wrapper stick to her fingers like tape. Bea had loved playing with tape until she got in trouble. She hadn't meant to use the whole roll on her favorite book, but it was in pieces and needed fixing. Mean Mommy had come out then.
Mommy shook her hand hard, again and again, but the wrapper wouldn't let go.
Bea giggled, but stopped when Mommy glared at her in the rearview mirror. Mommy flicked harder and the wrapper floated away. She tapped the end of the pack,
