“We protest for a better tomorrow.”
Therese receives laughter in the parlor room from Harge’s parents and their neighbors, the Burketts. Carol reassures her with a smile from across the room, balancing a plate of buttercream cake on her lap.
“Nothing good comes out of it, little lady.”
“Constant headache, more so.”
“Don’t tell us you go parading the streets to protest, Carol?”
“I have my own way of participating. My refusal to buy from certain stores.”
Mrs. Aird snorts. Mr. Aird coughs after a large bite of his slice of cake.
Therese hides in the coat room when the old folks discuss more of their party and president. Carol finds her curled on the floor and smirks at her disappearance.
“I’ve just about had enough of this fun,” she says gently. “We both have an early rise tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Therese agrees. She stares above at Carol approaching the front of her to help her get back on her feet.
Holding themselves steady, Carol examines Therese to make sure she’s okay.
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”