“Yes, she would.” She taps her chin. “Well, I don’t see why you two couldn’t manage by yourselves. I think you’re mature enough to handle painting a room without making a mess.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, feigning disappointment. “I know how much you love to paint.”
“Yes, I’ll live.” She glances at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. “I need to go remind Maurice about the visit.” She stands up and kisses me on the cheek before she leaves the room.
Step one? Check.
Chapter Thirteen
Wednesday, June 13th
As soon as I get to Lyndsay’s on Wednesday, I dig through the box of fabric. Trails of swatches cover a quarter of the living-room floor.
“Whoa! I didn’t hear a siren,” Lyndsay says.
“Siren?”
“For Hurricane Adrienne! What in the world is going on in here? Are you going to make some headbands?” She sits on the chair next to me.
“No, throw pillows,” I answer. “For Kaitlin.”
“Really? Oh, because you guys are repainting her room.”
“Yep.”
“What color?”
I smile. “Dark purple.” Then I find what I was looking for. “Aha! Got it!” I pull out the paint card to compare. The shade is a little bit lighter but it still matches. I show it to Lyndsay.
“Nice. I thought your mom doesn’t like dark colors.”
“She doesn’t but this is what Kaitlin picked out.” That's the color her room should be.
Her forehead wrinkles. “Huh.” Then she shrugs. “Never thought I’d see the day where your mom would be okay with something like that.”
“She’ll get used to it. Eventually.” It’s about time she does. The more comfortable she gets with the little things, the better she will be when she finds out about my career change. Not to mention making this pillow will be proof of my ability.
When they leave, I pull out the library book and open it up to the page I bookmarked. Perfect Frilly Pillow. Hmm…I need some fiberfill to fill the pillow and a lace trim for the edges. I set the book down and search through the box for both. I come up with only enough fiberfill for one pillow and zero trim that matches.
I lean back and sigh. I can’t drive to the store; I can’t be seen in the store. Maybe I could go later tonight. Wait, I have to pick Kaitlin up from her riding lesson. If I go tomorrow, I would need an excuse and nothing is coming to mind. It’s also not easy to sneak a bag of fiberfill in without being noticed. I don’t want to ruin the surprise for Kaitlin or raise questions from my mom.
My phone starts to ring. Who would be calling me while I’m supposed to be working? It’s Chevy. “Could you by any chance do me a favor tonight?” he asks me. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice.
Hearing it makes me want to ask him what’s wrong, but I opt for a more normal approach. “Sure, what’s up?”
“Nathan wants to go see a movie tonight. He invited Brian, and Brian asked if he could bring his girlfriend along.”
“Okay.”
“His girlfriend is Heidi.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I have no desire to be anywhere near her by choice, but I can’t not go. Nathan doesn’t want to be a jerk and un-invite him, so I told him I’d find a way to make the best of it. My solution? Invite a couple friends. That way I’m not forced into talking to either of them.”
“Where do I come in?” I tease.
“Funny…but seriously, would you be able to?”
Do you really have to ask? I think. Of course he has to ask. He doesn’t know how I feel. “What time? I have to pick Kaitlin up after quote-unquote work.”
“There are a couple showings starting around eight. I can stop by to pick you up around seven thirty.”
“Perfect.”
I can hear him breathe a sigh of relief on the other end. “Thank you.”
Suddenly, an idea hits me. “Don’t thank me just yet. I have a favor to ask of you.”
Fifteen minutes later, Chevy is pulling into the driveway. I let him in quickly and say, “Just let me grab my purse real quick.”
He just stares at me, his head tilted. Then he grins. “You may want to do more than just grab your purse, unless you want to stand out and be spotted.”
I frown and ask, “What?” Then I look down and realize I’m still in scrubs. I have gotten so used to coming over here wearing them to appear like I'm still going to work. It never crossed my mind while I waited for him to arrive. My face flushes. “Stand out could be an understatement. I forgot I was wearing this.” I bite my lip. “Give me a minute to find something to change into.”
“No problem.”
I run upstairs to Lyndsay’s room and search for something quick and easy to throw on. It's moments like these I am more than thankful we are about the same size. I put on a pair of jeans and a gray and white baseball tee. I pull my hair back into a ponytail and put on one of the baseball caps Ben gave Lyndsay. A quick glance in the mirror later and I’m running back down the stairs. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
He does a double take. “You look…sporty.”
I shrug. “All I could find. Plus, there’s a lower chance I’ll be recognized.”
“I was going to take you to the one in West Haven anyway.”
“Smart.”
He takes me to the fabric and craft store so I can get the necessary supplies I'm missing. Looking at all these supplies is sparking new ideas. It’s also reminding me of all the projects I could have been doing all these years. I brush the thought aside and focus on the present, and getting out of here quickly, for Chevy’s sake and my own. No need to bore him or waste time I need to make this.
As we walk out of the store, I thank him. He says, “You don’t have to. I'm more than happy to help.”
“Still, I wouldn’t want you to think I only want to hang out when I need something.”
He raises a hand. “I don’t. Besides, I asked you for something first.”
“That's true,” I say, smiling.
“That’s what friends are for,” he says, returning my smile.
On the drive back, I can’t help but think about those words, but specifically the one. Friends. Are we just friends? If we are, what we’re doing now seems strange. During the school year, we didn’t see much of each other outside of the classroom. Sure, we had our moments—groups at the pizza place, hanging out in the park or the mall—but it feels like there’s something more. Only he’s not coming out and saying it, and as much as I want to know, I don’t have the courage to speak up. Not after the first rejection. It’s not time.
Not yet.
I ask something else. “So, Heidi’s dating Brian, huh?”
Chevy sighs. “Yeah. She doesn’t know how to be alone.”
“How to be alone?”
“You know, always jumping from one guy to another.” He takes in a deep breath and slowly lets it out, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “I used to feel like I constantly needed to be in a relationship. Looking back, it’s the only reason why she and I dated to begin with. And the reason why I stopped the cycle. I don’t want to waste my time dating just to date.”
What he says makes me wonder about his rejection. Was it a rejection or was he just being careful about relationships? Why couldn’t he have been up front about it instead? Then I would have known it wasn’t me. Wait. What am I saying? I still don’t even know if there is or could be anything between us. Nevertheless, I have to say that there is wisdom to his logic. “That makes sense,” I reply. “Why should you waste your time in a worthless relationship just to have somebody?”