Maybe Valentine’s Day could be Duff-friendly after all.
“Come on,” he said. “Grab that pile and we’ll start passing these out.”
“Uh… okay.”
We might have been done delivering by the end of first block, but the secretary kept bringing more and more packages to the little vomit-colored table. It became very clear to Toby and me that we’d be working until at least lunch.
Not that I minded spending the morning with Toby Tucker.
“I don’t want to jinx it,” he said as we returned to the table, only five minutes before the lunch bell. “But I think we might actually be done.”
We reached the empty table and exchanged smiles, though mine was halfhearted. “That’s it,” I said. “That was the last of them.”
“Yep.” Toby leaned against the table. “You know, I’m glad they forced you to help. I would have been bored out of my mind if I’d done this by myself. It was fun talking to you.”
“I had fun, too,” I said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic.
“Listen,” he said. “You shouldn’t sit in the back of the room in AP government. Why don’t you take one of the desks behind Jeanine and me? There’s no reason for you to be alone back there. I think you should join us-the nerds in the front of the room.”
“I might.” And, obviously, I knew I would. How could I refuse such a request from Toby Tucker?
“Bianca Piper?” The secretary rounded the corner and approached us. There were no flowers or candy boxes in her hands this time. “Bianca, there’s someone here to sign you out.”
“Oh,” I said. “Um, okay.” Weird. I had a car. There was no reason for me to be checked out.
“See you later, Bianca,” Toby called as I followed the secretary toward the front desk. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
I waved just before turning the corner, trying to remember whether or not I had a doctor’s appointment that day or something. Why was I being checked out of school? But before my mind could invent any family tragedies, the answer hit me like a ton of bricks, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
Oh. My. God.
She stood at the front desk, looking like she’d just stepped off a soundstage somewhere in Hollywood. Her blond hair, lightened by the sun, fell around her shoulders in gentle, perfect waves. She wore a knee-length teal dress (without panty hose, of course) and high high heels. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes-eyes that I knew were green. She lifted the sunglasses as she turned to face me.
“Hi, Bianca,” the beautiful woman said.
“Hi, Mom.”
14
I could tell she was nervous by the way she stepped toward me. She looked shaky, and her eyes were wide with, from what I could guess, fear. For good reason, too. Unlike my father, I knew she’d meant to send those divorce papers, and I hated her for it. For not warning either of us. So I shot her a warning glare and moved away when she approached me. This must have confirmed her worries, because her glance sank to the floor and she focused on the toe of her stiletto.
“I’ve missed you, Bianca,” my mother said.
“Sure you have.”
“Did you finish signing her out, Mrs. Piper?” the secretary asked, returning to her chair behind the tall desk.
“Yes, I did,” Mom said. Her voice found its smooth, natural tone again. “So are we free to go, warden?”
“You’re released,” the secretary laughed. She fluffed her hair and added, “And I wanted you to know, I bought a copy of your book. It has been such a lifesaver for me. I read it once a month.”
Mom smiled. “Oh, thank you! Glad to meet one of the ten people who’ve actually read it.”
The secretary beamed at her. “It changed my life.”
I rolled my eyes.
Everyone loved my mother. She was funny, intelligent, and gorgeous. She looked a lot like Uma Thurman-as far from being the Duff as you could possibly get. All of her flaws were hidden behind that pretty face, and her smile could deceive people into believing she was perfect. The secretary, who giggled and waved as Mom led me out of the school, was just another fool.
“Where exactly are we going?” I didn’t bother to shield her from my bitterness. She deserved it.
“Um… I don’t know,” Mom admitted. Her heels clacked on the smooth pavement as she walked. The sound stopped when we reached her car, a red Mustang that looked like it had been lived in for a few days. It wasn’t hard to tell she’d driven here all the way from Orange County. “Somewhere with heat?” She was trying to sound perky. “I’m freezing my booty off.”
“If you put some decent clothes on, you might not have that problem.” I yanked open the passenger’s side door and pushed some junk out of the seat before sliding in. “Sorry this isn’t California. It gets cold here.”
“Oh, California isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Mom said. She looked tense as she got into the car, and her bubbly laugh was clearly nervous, not humorous. “It’s not as fun as the movies make it look, you know?”
“Really? That’s weird. You seem to like it better than Hamilton. But then again, you like to be anywhere but here, don’t you?”
The laughter died, and the car became silent. Mom started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Finally, with all of her veils shredded, she whispered, “Bianca, we have to talk about this. I don’t think you understand what I’m going through right now.”
“Yeah, it looks tough, Mom,” I snapped. “Nice tan, by the way. I know Orange County must have been a real hellhole. How did you manage?”
“Bianca Lynne Piper, I won’t take that attitude from you!” she shouted. “Despite what you think of me right now, I am still your mother, and I deserve a certain amount of respect.”
“Really?” I snorted. “Like the respect you showed Dad by sending fucking divorce papers without warning him? Or me! For God’s sake, Mother, what the hell is the matter with you?”
More silence.
I knew this would get us nowhere. I knew I should listen to her, consider her side, and share my feelings reasonably. I’d seen enough Dr. Phil to know we needed to compromise, but I didn’t want to. Selfish, childish, immature… I might have been all of those things, but my father’s face, the empty beer bottles I’d picked up last week, and the stupid divorce papers just kept popping into my mind. Listen? Consider? Be reasonable? How were those even options? She was just as childish and selfish as me. The only difference was that she hid it better.
Mom let out a slow breath before pulling the car over to the side of the road. She shut off the engine without saying a word, and I stared out my window at an empty field, which would be full of high cornstalks when summer finally showed up. The gray February sky said everything. Cold. Bleak. A wasted day. A wasted effort. But I wouldn’t speak first. I would let her be the adult for once in her life.
Seconds ticked by. The only sound in the car was our breathing. Mom gave short, hesitant gasps, as if she were on the verge of speaking but changed her mind before the first word could escape her lips. I waited.
“Bianca,” she said eventually. We’d been quiet for at least five minutes. “I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so… so sorry.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I didn’t want it to end like this.” The way her voice cracked made me wonder if she was crying, but I didn’t turn my head. “I haven’t been happy for a long time, and after your grandma died, your dad suggested I take a trip. I thought it might help. Like I’d escape for a little while, give a few speeches in different towns, then come back and everything would be better. Go back to how it used to be when your dad and I first got married. But…”
Her long, thin fingers trembled as they closed around my hand. Reluctantly, I faced her. There were no tears on her cheeks, but I could see a misty glitter in her eyes. The dam just hadn’t broken yet.
“But I was wrong,” she said. “I thought I could escape from my problems, but I was so wrong, Bianca. No matter where you go or what you do to distract yourself, reality catches up with you eventually. I came home, and after a few days, I felt it again, so I’d leave on another trip. I’d stay away a little longer, book a few more places to speak, go a little farther away… until I couldn’t go any farther at all. It caught up with me on the other side of the country, and I… I had to face it.”