And jealousy. But I hardly wanted to acknowledge that. No—trouble I did not want any part of.

I turned and ran all the way up the mountain to my trailer, flinging the metal door open and rushing inside as I slammed the door behind me and fell onto the couch, gasping for breath.

"My goodness, Tenleigh," my mama singsonged, as she stood in the tiny kitchen, stirring a pot of something on the electric hotplate that smelled like potato soup. I glanced over at her as I got hold of my breathing. I groaned internally to see that she was wearing a negligee and her tattered Miss Kentucky Sunburst ribbon across her chest. Today was shaping up to be a very bad day. In more ways than one.

"Hi, Mama," I said. "It was cold outside," was all I offered in explanation. "Need any help?"

"No, no, I've got it covered. I'm thinking of bringing something warm into town for Eddie. He loves my potato soup, and it's going to be such a chilly night."

I grimaced. "Mama, Eddie's at home with his wife and family tonight. You can't bring him potato soup."

A cloud moved over my mama's features, but she smiled brightly at me and shook her head. "No, no, he's leaving her, Tenleigh. She's not right for him. It's me he loves. And he'll be cold tonight. The wind . . ." She continued stirring the soup, humming some nameless tune and smiling a small smile to herself.

"Mama, did you take your medicine today?" I asked.

Her head snapped up, a confused look replacing the small smile. "Medicine? Oh no, baby, I don't need medicine anymore." She shook her head. "That stuff makes me want to sleep all the time . . . makes me feel so funny." She wrinkled her cute little nose as if it was just the silliest thing. "No, I've gone off that medicine. And I feel wonderful!"

"Mama, Marlo and I have told you a hundred times you can't just go off your medicine." I walked over to her and laid my hand on her arm. "Mama, you'll feel good for a little while, and then you won't. You know I'm right."

Her face fell just a little as she stood stirring the thick soup. Then she shook her head. "No, this time will be different. You'll see. And this time, Eddie will move all of us up to that nice house of his. He'll see that he needs me with him . . . he needs all of us with him."

My shoulders sagged as defeat washed through me. I was too tired to deal with this.

My mama patted her deep, chestnut brown hair—the same hair she'd given me—and smiled brightly again. "I've still got my looks, Tenleigh. Eddie always says I'm the most beautiful woman in Kentucky. And I've got this sash to prove he isn't lying." Her eyes grew dreamy as they always did when she talked about her Miss Sunburst title, the one she'd won when she was my age. She turned toward me and winked. She lifted a strand of my hair and then smiled. "You're as pretty as I was," she said, but then frowned. "I wish I had the money to enter you in some pageants. I bet you'd win them just like I did." She sighed heavily and went back to stirring the soup.

I startled as the door flew open and Marlo burst inside, her cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. She grinned over at me. "Lordy, that wind is bitter today."

I nodded at her, unsmiling, and moving my eyes over to our mama who was spooning soup into a plastic container. The smile vanished from Marlo's face.

"Hey there, Mama, what are you doing?" she asked as she took her jacket off and tossed it aside.

Mama looked up and smiled prettily. "Bringing soup to Eddie," she said as she snapped the lid on the container and walked with it into our very small living/dining area.

"No you're not, Mama," Marlo said, her voice sounding bitter.

Mama blinked at her. "Why yes, Marlo, I am."

"Give me the soup, Mama. Tenleigh, go get her medicine."

Mama started shaking her head vigorously as I scooted by her to get her medication, the medication we could barely afford, the medication I bought with the earnings I made sweeping floors and dusting shelves at Rusty's, the town convenience store, owned by one of the biggest dickheads in town. The medicine Marlo and I missed meals for so we'd have the money to buy.

I heard a scuffle behind me and hurried into the bathroom where I grabbed my mama's pill bottles from the medicine cabinet with shaking hands.

When I ran back into the main area of the trailer, Mama was sobbing and the soup was spilled all over the floor and all over Marlo. Mama sunk down onto her knees in the mess and put her hands over her face and wailed. Marlo took the medicine from me and I could see her hands were shaking, too.

She went down on the floor with our mama and kneeled in the mess and hugged Mama to her, rocking.

"I know he still loves me, Mar. I know he does!" my mama wailed. "I'm pretty. I'm prettier than her!"

"No, Mama, he doesn't love you," Marlo said very gently. "I'm so sorry. But we do. Me and Tenleigh, we love you so much. So much. We need you, Mama."

"I just want someone to take care of us. I just need someone to help us. Eddie will help us if I just . . ."

But that thought was lost in her sobs as Marlo continued to rock her, not saying another word. Words wouldn't work with our mama, not when she was like this. Tomorrow she'd take the sash off. Tomorrow she'd stay in bed all day. And in a few days, the medicine would kick in and she'd be somewhat back to normal. And then she'd decide she didn't need it anymore and secretly go off it and we'd do this all over again. And I had to wonder, should a seventeen-year-old girl be so tired? Just tired down to my bones . . . weary in my very soul?