“Nope, they’re getting out of the car.”
I set down the last cupcake and join her at the window. Sure enough, somebody is here.
And it’s Chevy.
I run to the door and open it up before he gets to it. “I thought you had to get back to work.”
He grins. “Well, I did but there really aren’t many jobs pressing at the moment, so I asked if I could leave early.”
“Why would you do that?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“To cheer up a friend,” he says, gesturing to me.
“I don’t need cheering up.”
“Yes, you do,” Kaitlin says from behind me. I turn to her and make a face.
“See? She agrees with me,” Chevy says with a smirk. “I just want to take you somewhere for a little bit.”
“I don’t want to leave Kaitlin alone.”
“Why not?” she asks. “I was home alone when you were at Lyndsay’s all summer.”
I start to say, “But—”
“Go ahead. I have a book I want to finish anyway.” I know what she's doing. She's attempting to act all innocent, but I know.
“I’d listen to her if I were you. She’s wise beyond her years.” Chevy winks at Kaitlin and she smiles bashfully.
“She is.” I smile at her, and then turn to Chevy. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He takes me to The Caffeine Café and tells me, “Get whatever you want. My treat.”
I can’t decide. He may say it's his treat but I'm not greedy. “I’ll just get a toffee iced coffee,” I finally say.
“Just get a…” He sighs. “I’m serious, get anything you want. Like…” He reaches over and grabs one of the giant brownies from the basket. “Do you want one of these?”
I purse my lips. “Maybe.”
He places it on the counter. “And how about one of these?” He points to the cookies.
“Maybe.” I chuckle a little.
He says to the girl behind the counter, “She’ll have one of each kind.”
“What?” I exclaim as I grab his arm. “You don’t need to get me all of this.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry, we’ll be sharing.”
His kindness hits me in a way it never has before. There's something different about the way he is treating me. I begin to wonder if something more is happening between us. I have been standing by, waiting for him to get to the point that he needs to. Letting him deal with the issues at home. Allowing him to get to know himself. Patiently waiting for the day when he finally tells me how he feels.
Has he reached that point?
After we sit down, I need to find out. “Why are you doing this?”
He stirs his coffee slowly and then looks up at me. “Because you have a lot on your mind that has been getting you down. I want to make it better.”
“You do?”
“It’s the chaos theory all over again.” He smirks and takes a bite out of the peanut butter cookie.
“So taking me out for coffee-flavored drinks and baked goods is supposed to make it better?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
“If I’ve been taught anything, it’s that cookies and chocolate make everything better.”
I smile coyly, then break off part of the peanut butter cookie while it is still in his hand. “Cookies and chocolate always make everything better.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Saturday, August 11th
My mom and I have been avoiding each other as much as possible. Neither one of us want to make things uncomfortable for Maurice or Kaitlin, especially after Maurice made it clear he wanted us to act like a family. So whenever we are all together, we talk; mostly she and I talk to either Maurice or Kaitlin, never directly. Any time we are alone in a room or pass by in the house, we barely utter a word.
It’s not right.
Yet I don’t know what to do to make things right. Even if I did become a nurse to please her, the damage is done. She can’t trust me, and I don’t blame her there. If I were her, I wouldn't want to trust my daughter after she lied to me all summer either. I wish there was a way we could compromise. I have a feeling that despite what my dad told me, it is going to be hard to find that middle ground. At least I can’t see it in the near future.
Maurice and Kaitlin go out for a daddy/daughter dinner Saturday night. It's the first time my mom and I have been in the house without one of them there with us. I almost want to lock myself in my room and not come out, but I do need to eat and I don’t want my mom to eat by herself.
I go down to the kitchen when I hear my mom making noise getting out pots and pans. I go to the refrigerator and get out lettuce, tomatoes, and olives. I start chopping and slicing, waiting for my mom to say something to me.
She doesn’t.
Before I realize it, I sigh. Of all the things I could do at this moment, it has to be something audible and obvious. This catches my mom’s attention. She turns her head to me and asks, “What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I just…I was hoping that maybe you would say something.”
She is silent for a moment. I'm regretting that sigh already. She finally says, “I don’t know what to say, Adrienne.” She starts boiling water in the pan. “I just wish you wouldn’t throw your life away.”
I cringe and bite my lip. “I’m not throwing my life away.”
“Then what are you doing?”
This is a trick question; no matter what I say I'm going to be reamed out. I give her the most honest answer I can think of. “Discovering the world of possibility. I need to find out who I am and go from there.”
“And you have to skip college to do this?”
“I wouldn’t be the first person to take a semester off. It’s actually a little more reasonable because some people take a year or two off and travel across Europe. I just need a small break to figure things out.”
“You still lied to me.”
I set the knife down on the counter next to the bowl and spin around. “I know. And I'm sorry that I lied. I really am. But we need to get past this. I have made my decision.”
She holds up her hands. “Without even discussing it with me.”
“Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t feel like I could before.”
“You can’t discuss important life decisions with your own mother?” she says harshly.
“Not when I know the conversation is going to be one-sided!” I yell. “I did try to talk to you the one time, years ago when I was a freshman. We had a career day where a bunch of people came in to talk about the jobs we could have when we grew up. You remember what you said to me?”
She purses her lips. “No.”
“You said, ‘It doesn’t matter, we’ve already got a plan.’” I blink the tears back. “So, no, Mom. I can’t discuss this with you. In fact, I’m done trying to reason with you.” I grab a towel and wipe my hands. “I’m going to Lyndsay’s. Don’t wait up, I may spend the night.”
“How did you deal with my mom so gracefully?” I ask Faith after dinner. I couldn't stop thinking about it all through the meal. With as much trouble as I have been having attempting to create a peaceful relationship with her again, I just don't understand how it's possible.
She lets out a long breath. “To be honest, it wasn’t always so graceful or easy. It probably seems that way to you because you weren’t old enough to remember the early years.”
“The early years?”
She leans back in her chair. “Back when I was pregnant with Lyndsay and your mom was pregnant with you. She graduated from college, had a job, and was married to your father. I was fresh out of high school, had no job, and wasn't married. How could I raise a child, go to college, and work all by myself? My parents were willing to help but I didn't want to rely on them. I was a different kind of girl, unwilling to accept their generosity.” She chuckles. “So I decided to skip college and go straight to work. My mom was not too pleased with my decision but she knew I was going to have a child of my own to care for. She just assumed I would go to college in a couple years. Your mom, however, was upset. ‘This is our family’s tradition.’” I could hear my mom’s voice in my head. “She kept saying that over and over again. She wouldn’t let it go. For a few years, anytime the family would get together she and I would argue. Everyone else could hardly stand being in the same room as us.”