“Yes, he walked me home. What’s so unbelievable about it?”
“It’s not that it’s unbelievable. It just seems…never mind.”
I tap her arm. “Oh no, don’t you never mind me.”
She taps me back. “It’s nothing. I just think it seems interesting.”
“Interesting…that’s not vague at all.”
“Oh, come on, Adrienne!” she says, stopping to face me. “Can’t you see? There’s something more going on here. You should have asked him at graduation.”
“Why? Because he walked me home? He was just being a gentleman.”
“What about at the party last week?” she asks, staring me down.
I press my lips together, unable to come up with a reason. I still haven’t figured that out yet and I somehow doubt I will anytime soon.
She points her finger at me. “See, you know I’m right.”
“Maybe you are. Maybe there is something. But I’m not going to press the issue. Summer is only beginning. I have more important things to worry about.” I was implying my mom and my career but really meant Chevy’s dad. On the way back to my house, I asked him how it felt working with his dad and he didn’t have much to say about it. I got the feeling they weren't close anymore, which broke my heart more, knowing what was to come.
She rolls her eyes as we walk into a clothing store. “I still think you should do something about it.”
“I know you do.” I want to do something too. There's a special bond between us, and I feel like it could grow into something more someday. I just can’t risk it, not yet anyway. I need a little more time. “Besides, how can I focus on becoming a seamstress if I’m dating?” I say to her as a distraction.
Her eyes brighten. “You’re really going to do it?” I beam in response. “Oh, I am so excited now.” She bounces a little bit and claps her hands together. “You know what else? You wouldn’t even have to stop there. You could make your own line of clothes.”
I hold up my hand. “Whoa,” I say, feeling a little overwhelmed. “One thing at a time, Lynds. One thing at a time.”
“Okay, okay.” She puts her fingers to her lips. “There’s so much to be done. Where do you want to start?”
“I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. I need to go to the library next week and get some books on sewing. Spark some ideas better than scrunchies.”
“Yeah, I don’t think there’s a market for those anymore.” She strolls over to some hair accessories. “Looks like all we’ve got here are jewel-encrusted hair clips, fancy flower barrettes…” She gasps, picking up a jeweled headband. “Look at this.”
“Uh-huh…” It’s a headband. “And?”
She gives me a look. “Check it out, look at this design. You could make this.”
I take it from her and touch the beading on the fabric, lightly following the pattern with my finger. “This, no. Something like this, that is a possibility.”
She takes it and hangs it back on the hook. “No, my dear,” she says with conviction, “for you, the possibilities are endless.”
Chapter Twelve
Monday, June 11th
On Monday morning, I browse through books online to narrow down the ones I want to get from the library. I wanted to do this over the weekend, but I was afraid of my mom catching me. Instead, Kaitlin and I blitzed through seven more episodes Sunday night. She had finished her book and moved on to a new one about a girl who saves the president. I told her it sounded ridiculous but she informed me it was hilarious.
When Lyndsay gets back, I race out the door to stop by the library on my way home. I only check out a couple of books with the purpose of being able to tuck them into my purse. I also grab a fiction book for good measure. All of Kaitlin’s talk of books has me wanting to read for fun again.
My mom has me toss a salad when I get home. I combine the lettuce, spinach leaves, carrot shavings, and diced tomato into a bowl. As I toss, my mom talks.
“Paige started taking horseback riding lessons on Wednesdays, so now Kaitlin wants to take them. Maurice can drop her off after he gets home from work but it would be great if you could pick her up on your way home.”
“Oh, right,” I say quietly to myself. I say to Mom, “Yeah, sure. I can do it.”
“Great. I would do it, but she would have to wait awhile. I don’t like the idea of leaving her standing around by herself, or having Paige’s mom go out of her way to drop her off.”
I wonder if that is how they had to do it while I was gone. It makes me feel guilty. There were so many little things that happened because of me that I didn’t even realize until now.
She continues, “Kaitlin and I picked out a new color for her room. I’ll need you to stop by the hardware store to get the paint mixed. Maurice left the money for it next to the sample over there by the phone.”
I finish the salad and walk over to pick up the sample. There are two paint samples circled. The lighter shade at the bottom of the card, called Lovely Lilac, is the one I remember vividly. The other is a darker purple named Royalty. I rub my chin. “Um, which one? The top one or the bottom one?” I hold the card up for her.
She glances over. “The bottom one, hon.”
“Okay.” I pick up the twenty and say, “I’m going to go put this in my purse so I don’t forget it,” as I leave the room. I thought it was Kaitlin’s idea to make her room light purple. It never occurred to me that my mom would insist on a color different than the one Kaitlin wanted.
Kaitlin is sitting on her bed as I walk into my room. She is tightly curled up with her book. Her face appears gloomy. I go to her doorway and say, “Dinner’s almost ready.” She nods but doesn’t look up. “I heard about the riding lessons. That should be a lot of fun.”
She mutters what sounds like an “Uh-huh” to me.
I press my lips together. She should be excited. I would be. I have only ridden a horse once while out visiting my dad’s mom in Kentucky when I was eight. However, I know that’s not what is upsetting her. “Do you want to watch another episode tonight? I know we did a lot yesterday, but—”
“Yeah, sure,” she says quickly. “That sounds good.” She gives me a smile but I can tell she is forcing it.
Dinner conversation is mostly between my mom and Maurice. I interject a few things here and there but Kaitlin only says things like, “Pass the potatoes, please.” It doesn’t change much when we sit in front of the television later. She barely reacts to the jokes or the latest scandal going on in Orange County. I just want to chalk it up to her overreacting but I remember how I felt when mom insisted my room be a pale blue instead of forest green. I don’t mind the color so much now, but it wasn’t what I wanted.
Just like nursing wasn’t what I wanted, yet I was going to do it anyway.
That’s when I come up with a plan.
I go back downstairs after Kaitlin goes back to her reading. Mom is on the computer sending an email. “Hey, Mom. I’m trying to figure out what day would work best for painting. I was thinking either a Saturday or a Tuesday.”
“I don’t work this Saturday, so that might work.”
Drat. That won’t help. Time to move to Plan B. “I can’t this Saturday, I’m going out with Lyndsay and Ben and some friends from school.”
“I work the next Saturday, so how about…” she trails off to look at the calendar on the wall, “the thirtieth?”
“Um…” I have no excuses for that day yet.
Before I can move on to Plan C, my mom exclaims, “Oh, shoot! I almost forgot. Grandma’s coming into town on the twentieth.”
“She is?” Then a light bulb comes on in my mind. “I’m sure she would love to see it when she comes.”