Read Seven Year Switch (2010) for Free Online Page A

reliable, we’d give Seth a quick call and he could walk her down the aisle.
    Maybe.

7
    WHEN ANASTASIA AND I OPENED THE DOOR TO GO OUT TO wait for the bus, Cynthia and her kids were walking toward us dragging two wooden porch railings.
    â€œHere you go,” Cynthia said.
    She and Parker placed their railing up against my house. Then Cynthia took the second railing from Lexi and Treasure, and rested it up against the first one. The kids ran off to wait for the bus.
    The railings were made of white-painted wood, chunky and simple, and exactly what I would have replaced my rusty metal railings with if I could have afforded to.
    â€œWhat are those for?” I asked.
    Cynthia inspected her fingernails for chips. “Up to you, but I was thinking maybe earrings.”
    â€œCute,” I said. “Where did you get them?”
    â€œI just told my client she should beef up her railings a little. Piece of pie.”
    â€œHow do you know they’ll fit?”
    Cynthia winked. “I measured first, of course. After all, I am a professional.”
    It finally sank in. “Ohmigod,” I said. “You have a client?”
    Cynthia’s face lit up. She did a dance that involved circling her hips in her tennis skirt while she stirred an imaginary vat. “I have a client,” she sang. “I have a client. I have a cli -ent.”
    By the time she finished her song, the bus had already pulled away. I felt a sharp stab of guilt, as if I’d let Anastasia down by not watching over her until the last possible second. I closed my eyes and tried to visualize her surrounded by a soft white protective light all the way to school.
    When I opened my eyes, Cynthia was walking away.
    â€œThanks for the railings,” I yelled.
    She waved one hand over her head, twisting her wrist back and forth, the jewels in her tennis bracelet glistening in the morning sun.
    Â 
    I SPENT THE MORNING designing a Great Girlfriends Getaway banner link for the St. John resort Web site. I really just needed a quick peek at the site to make sure my design would jump out, but also feel like it belonged. But I found myself browsing each and every page, imagining what it would be like to stretch out on all that white sand and snorkel in the turquoise waters.
    At first, the sand and the sea were enough, but after a while I needed some companionship. So I pictured a man rubbing sunscreen on my back with strong, sure hands. I tried to turn, just enough to get a look at him, but he stayed out of sight. Then I tried turning him into Billy, but I couldn’t get him out of his red kimono and into a bathing suit, so as a fantasy, it was only moderately successful.
    I forced myself to focus. I finished the banner ad and sent it off to Joni. Then I moved on to designing business cards for Billy to take with him to Japan. If I ordered them right away through the online print service I used, I’d get them in time for our next meeting.
    I stayed with it, experimenting with fonts and colors, adding a photo of the Akira bike, until I had a card design that I thought would be just what he needed. I placed the order, using the one credit card I allowed myself. Then I got to work on the invoice, adding in a design fee and marking up the cards to what he’d pay at his local office supply store. If I had a few more Billy Sanders on my client list, I might actually be able to afford to hire someone to install my new porch railings.
    All morning I’d been trying to keep myself from going into Anastasia’s room, but it turned out that reading one page in your daughter’s diary was a lot like trying to eat one potato chip.
    â€œOkay, just one more,” I said out loud. I pushed myself away from the desk in the office area I’d made out of one end of my bedroom. As I walked by my bed on the way out, I grabbed my faded green comforter and pulled it up to meet the pillows in an underachieving attempt to make the bed.
    For