Finding My Own Way by Peggy Dymond Leavey

you’ve got out there on the clothesline?”
    I laughed, feeling a little silly. “I should bring that stuff inside now, I suppose. It’s just for looks, but it’s been out there two or three days.”
    â€œWell, I came up to see if you’d had enough of all this by now,” said Irene. “Are you ready to come back?”
    â€œNo, Irene,” I said. “I’m staying.”
    She put both hands on my arm, gently, pleading. “Oh, Libby, come on. There’s nothing to keep you here.”
    â€œWell, there’s Ernie, for one thing.” The dog lifted his shaggy head at the sound of his name, and I reached to scratch between his ears. “I also happen to have a job now.”
    â€œYou do? Where?”
    â€œAt Savaway. It doesn’t pay a lot, but it’s better than nothing. And Mr. Thomas may have something for me at the paper too. That’s what I’m really hoping for.”
    Irene tried a different tack. “What if someone broke in here while you were sleeping? A set of men’s clothing on the line isn’t going to prevent that.” I wished she hadn’t reminded me.
    â€œI know, Irene,” I agreed. “But that could happen toyou in your place in Toronto.”
    â€œAt least I’ve got a telephone,” she bristled. “I don’t see one here yet.”
    â€œI’ll get one.”
    â€œWell, that would be a start,” she conceded. “But it still isn’t right. You need someone here with you, some responsible adult. You know I’m right.”
    She was, of course. “I’ve always been a pretty responsible person myself,” I reminded her.
    â€œYes, you have been. But it comes right down to this: you are too young to be here all by yourself. Now that you’re working, maybe you could find someone in town willing to provide room and board.”
    â€œBut why pay rent,” I argued, “which, by the way, I couldn’t afford, when I own this place?”
    â€œHave you ever asked how much room and board would cost?”
    â€œWhy would I?” I was beginning to fear she was wearing me down “And I have a dog. Ernie can’t stay in town.”
    â€œThat dog should be the least of your worries,” declared Irene. “In town, you’d be closer to your job. How are you getting to work, anyway?”
    â€œOn my bike.”
    â€œWell, you can’t ride your bike to work on rainy days.”
    â€œSure I can. I already have.”
    â€œWhat about Margaret Pacey?” my aunt persisted. “Couldn’t you stay with her?”
    â€œMargaret’s working for the summer. At an inn on Sparrow Lake.”
    Irene sighed. “Will you at least try, Libby? See if youcan find a place in town? The McIntyres will look after Ernie.”
    I picked at a bit of dried food stuck to the edge of the table. What would it hurt to promise her that? If I gave it a try, would it allow her to go back to the city reassured, and let me stay here? I knew I wasn’t going to find anything I could afford at my wages. “All right. How long are you here for?” I asked, resignedly.
    â€œI have a couple of days. I hope by then you’ll be ready to go back with me.”
    â€œI’ll ask around at work tomorrow,” I said. “Come on, I’ll get you some sheets for the bed in Alex’s room.” Some company for a couple of days might be just what I needed.
    To my surprise, when I asked about it at work the next day, Gloria remembered a place in Pinkney Corners with rooms to rent. “You know Ruby’s?” she asked, checking her lipstick in a small pocket mirror. “Back on the corner, across the street. Second place from the end.”
    â€œI think I know the one you mean,” I said. “A big old, white house, next to the bakery?”
    â€œThat’s the one,” Gloria nodded. It was the same house where, years before, Alex