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she was twelve, but she had trouble picturing him in her mind. As far as Lily could recall, she’d seen her father only a handful of times. In some ways Lily wished she didn’t trust Jake so much; it would make things a whole lot easier.
    Jake closed her door, his hands gripping the open window as he watched her through weary eyes. For half a second, he toyed with the idea of releasing her from the promise. But he entertained the idea only fleetingly. He knew better.
    “Can you take me home now?”
    “Sure.” He hurried around the cab and climbed into the front seat beside her. A flick of the key and the engine purred. “You won’t regret this,” Jake said, flashing her one of his most brilliant smiles.
    “I regret it already,” she said, and stared out the side window.
    Those thoughtless words hounded Lily for the remainder of the evening. Jake was her friend—her best friend—and she was treating him like the tax man. Usually, at theend of the evening Jake would stop by the house on his way back to the dock where his sailboat was moored. But he didn’t show up, although Lily waited half the night. She didn’t blame him. They’d hardly said a word on the way home, and when he pulled to the curb in front of Gram’s rickety old house, Lily had practically jumped out of the taxi. She hadn’t even bothered to say good night.
    The following morning, Lily was wakened by Gram singing an African chant. Tossing aside the covers, Lily leaped from the bed and rushed into the kitchen. Gram only sang in Swahili when things were looking up.
    “Gram, what happened?” she asked excitedly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Two steps into the large central kitchen and Lily discovered Gram clothed in full African dress. Yard upon yard of bold chartreuse-printed fabric was draped around her waist, with deep folds falling halfway to the floor. The shirt was made of matching material and hung from her shoulders, falling in large bell sleeves. Wisps of bright red hair escaped the turban that was wrapped around her head. Ten thin gold bracelets dangled like charms from each wrist.
    “Gram.” Lily stopped cold, not knowing what to think.
    The older woman made a dignified bow and hugged Lily fiercely.
“Nzuri sana,”
she greeted her, ceremoniously kissing her granddaughter on the cheek.
    Lily was too bemused to react.
“Nzuri sana,”
she returned, slowly sinking into a kitchen chair. Her grandmother might behave a bit oddly on occasion, but nothing like this.
    Continuing to chant in low tones, Gram turned and pulled a hundred-dollar bill from the folds of her outfit and waved it under Lily’s nose.
    “Gram, where did you get that?” All kinds of anxious thoughts were going through her mind. Maybe Gram was so worried over their finances that she’d done something illegal.
    Hips swaying, Gram crossed the room and chuckled. The unmusical sound echoed against the walls. “Bingo,” she cried, and removed four more hundred-dollar bills.
    “You won at bingo!” Lily cried, jumping up from the chair and dancing around the room. Their arms circled each other’s waists and they skipped around the kitchen like schoolgirls until Lily was breathless and dizzy.
    “You buy yourself something special,” Gram insisted when they’d settled down. “Something alluring so those rich men at the Wheaton won’t be able to take their eyes off you.”
    Lily did her utmost to comply. She left the house and spent the rest of the morning shopping. Half the day was gone by the time she’d located the perfect outfit. It was a silky black dress with a fitted bodice that dipped provocatively in the front, granting a glimpse of cleavage and hinting at the fullness of her breasts. Studying herself in the mirror, Lily turned sideways, one hand on her hips, and rested her chin on her shoulder as she pouted her lips. It was perfect.
    After paying for the dress, Lily hurried home. She rushed up to her bedroom and donned her new purchase, eyeing her