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know, Mama, but—”
    “No buts about it. Now you do an extra good job in cabin three. The MacDonohoes are due to arrive this evening, and they always leave a nice tip if things are done up the way they like.” The rocking chair creaked rhythmically. “And then you get yourself cleaned up before suppertime. And comb that mop of hair. For goodness’ sake, child, you do look a fright.”
    Rennie’s lips flattened. “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Now be a good girl and fetch me one of my little pink pills. My nerves are botherin’ me something fierce today.”
    So what else was new? “Yes, ma’am,” Rennie said again, and dodged around the corner to the bathroom. She returned with the pill and a Dixie cup of water, then stood with her chin lowered in case Mama had further orders. Which she generally did.
    With a gulp, Mama downed the pill and flicked her hand in dismissal. “What are you standing there gaping for? Get those chores done lickety-split.”
    “Yes, ma’am !” Rennie’s yellow flip-flops slapped the polished floor as she marched down the back hall to the maid’s closet. The only good thing about cleaning cabins was getting far enough away that Mama couldn’t pick on her for a while.
    But why did it have to be the MacDonohoes’ cabin? They came for two weeks every summer, and Rennie hated them. Hated how they acted all sweet and lovey-dovey, hated the way they hung on each other like honeymooners. Their poor little boy was as grossed out by all the mushy stuff as Rennie, so she’d taken pity on him that first year and invited him to tag along with her. And if their smooching all the time wasn’t bad enough, Mrs. MacDonohoe was fussy as an old granny. One tiny hair in the bathtub, or a chipped coffee mug in the kitchenette, and she’d be pounding on the front desk five minutes after they unpacked.
    Rennie generally hated the resort, period. She was sick to death of cleaning up other people’s messes, fed up with cleaning slime out of the ice dispenser, bone tired from hauling cases of soft drinks and snacks to fill the vending machines.
    And lately she had to work harder than ever, thanks to her mother’s getting pregnant so late in life and then having to stay in bed nearly the whole nine months. Good grief, did people as old as her parents really do it anymore? And Mama was crazy as an upside-down cuckoo clock anyway. How Daddy put up with her mood swings was anybody’s guess. Not to mention if Mama ever forgot to take her little pink pills. When that happened, things could get twenty times worse.
    But then Jenny came along, and oh, how Rennie loved that little baby, thought she was the cutest, most precious creature ever born. Jenny’s sweet smile could charm Rennie out of her darkest moods. And that was saying a lot.
    But everything else . . . sometimes it got to be just too much.
    “Hey, sweetkins.” Her daddy, toting a toolbox and some torn shingles, met her on the way down the path to cabin three. “What’s that ugly ol’ frown about?”
    She tapped the wheel of the housekeeping cart with the toe of her flip-flop. “Mama’s mad at me again.”
    “Aw, it can’t be that bad.” He chucked her under the chin. “She’s had a hard time this year. Things’ll get better soon.”
    “I know, Daddy. I just . . .” But Daddy couldn’t understand, never would. Rennie sighed and sniffed back a tear. Stiffening her back, she gave the cart a shove and continued on her way.
    In cabin three, she made quick work of cleaning the small rooms before stripping and remaking the beds and hanging fresh white towels in the bathroom. She replaced the used dishes and utensils with clean ones, then refilled the oblong wicker basket next to the percolator with complimentary packets of ground coffee, sugar, and powdered creamer.
    Halfway out the door, she stopped. An idea slithered into her brain. The very thought made her insides all tingly, and it wouldn’t let her go until she acted on it. She reached up