Plus, there was amazingly epic kissing in my future, too. In just a few hours, if I was lucky.
Mom and I pulled up to Mrs. Sandri’s house right on time. Charlie was there, too, talking to Mrs. Sandri and Lucas on the porch. My mom froze when she saw everyone.
“It’s okay, Mom. They’re here to help us. They care about us.”
She didn’t want to get out of the car. “I don’t think I can do this. I’m so embarrassed.” She looked at me, panicked. “And your boyfriend is here, too. I know I said awful things to him last night. I’m so sorry, honey.” She dropped her gaze. “They care about you, Darcy, not me.”
I tilted her chin up, just like Lucas did to me. “Then let that be enough. Anyone who cares about me gets you, too.” I smiled at her, but she was crying again. “Besides, you know that’s not true. Uncle Charlie cares about you, too.”
“I’ve let you down,” she said. “What if I do it again?”
“What did they say in that meeting today, Mom? You have to take it day by day. And today you haven’t let me down. You’re here, where I asked you to be. Now it’s time to do the next thing.”
I got out of the car and walked around to open her door. I held her hand as she stepped out. She was pale, but her hair was shiny and she wore clean clothes that weren’t wrinkled. I handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tears.
She laughed. “Where’d you find this?”
“In your dresser.” I glanced up the sidewalk toward Lucas and Charlie. Lucas jumped off the steps and jogged over to us. He bent down to kiss my cheek, laced his fingers through mine, and smiled shyly at my mom.
“Hi Mrs. Covington,” he said. “I hope you’ll like this house.”
Mom blushed. “Lucas, I need to apologize for last night—”
Lucas put up a hand. “Please don’t. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”
She shook her head, eyes downcast. “That’s no excuse,” she muttered.
“Come on, Mom,” I said, tugging her after me. “Mrs. Sandri is waiting for us.”
Charlie hugged Mom and spoke softly to her. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I could tell Mom was fighting back tears.
Mrs. Sandri ushered us into her house, fluttering around, offering tea and cookies. Lucas and Charlie waited in the living room while Mom and I toured the house.
“What do you think?” I asked her when we’d reached the back bedroom.
Mom looked at the lace-curtained windows and doily-covered nightstand. “It’s like a dollhouse,” she said.
“I know. Isn’t it great? It’s just right for the two of us.”
Mom looked at me, her eyes filled with sadness. “It could work for three people, too.”
I nodded but said nothing.
“Charlie’s offering to loan us the deposit and first month’s rent to tide us over until after the estate sale,” she said.
“Lucas offered, too,” I said.
Mom frowned. “I hate being a charity case.”
“It’s a loan, not charity. You know we’ll make enough money at the estate sale to pay them back. And you’ll get a better job, Mom. I know you will. Plus I’m earning money. I can still help with groceries and gas.”
A deep sigh shuddered through Mom. Her eyes looked clearer than they had in weeks. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Your life. My life. It was supposed to be—”
“I don’t know anymore what life is supposed to be, Mom. I’m just dealing with what it is.”
Mom gave me a tight-lipped smile. “Planting new crops?”
“Yes. Sometimes you have to start over. Like Dad says…sometimes acts of God, or acts of people…mess everything up. I’m not going to sit and rot, and I’m not going to let you, either.”
“I don’t know if I can do this, Darcy,” she whispered.
“The universe threw us a huge curveball, Mom. But we’re still here. We can’t give up.” My voice sounded stronger than I felt.
She stared down at the flowered rug. “I wish your dad was here.”
“Me too. But he’s not.” Frustration welled up inside of me. I knew this was hard for her. Moving out of our home meant that life would never be the same. It was literally closing the door on our old life.
Mom took a deep breath. “All right. Let’s sign the lease.”
I hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go. “It’s going to work. I know it is.”
She held my hand as we walked down the hallway. “When did you get so strong?”
We signed the paperwork with Mrs. Sandri, who insisted we eat her cookies to seal the deal.
Afterward Charlie and Mom went outside, to talk about the money, I assumed. Mrs. Sandri took the empty plates to the kitchen while Lucas and I sat on the small sofa, our legs in full contact this time. He leaned over to kiss me, but I pushed him away.
“What?” he laughed as I held him at arm’s length.
“Mrs. Sandri will be back any second.”
“So? She figured out you were my girlfriend before you did.”
I shoved him back against the fluffy cushions. “Very funny.”
He pulled me into him and kissed me before I could argue any more.
“I knew I was right about you two,” said Mrs. Sandri as she walked back into the room. Her eyes danced, and she smiled at me when we pulled apart. “One of the advantages of old age, dear. I know love when I see it.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
December 5
Sal and I ate lunch together in the back of the cafeteria. Her fierce glares scared away all the drama groupies. She knew today was the estate sale, but she also knew I didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, she prattled on about rehearsals, interspersed with stories about Mark’s creative bedroom skills. “Speaking of,” she said, pausing to suck down soda, “what’s up in that department with you and the smexy college boy-toy?”
I smiled but shook my head. “Nothing to spill.”
Sal had been deliriously happy when I’d told her about Lucas and me. She’d gloated about how she was right about him on Homecoming night. “You’ve got to be kidding me. If I were you, by now I would’ve—”
“Stop. I don’t need you to spell out what you’d have done by now.” I stole one of her fries. “I’m moving at my own speed with Lucas. And he’s fine with that.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t get you, Darcy. That’s like having dinner in a gourmet restaurant but skipping dessert.”
“Drop it, Sal. He’s not just a boy toy. He means a lot to me.”
Sal rolled her eyes. “Like I don’t know you’re madly in love?” She paused, giving me one of her mind-reading glares. “Did you tell him yet? That you love him?”
I sighed. “Not yet. I will. Soon.” He knew. How could he not?
“You have to say it. Especially since he said it to you first. It’s like a rule.”
“It’s not a rule.”
She snorted. “Whatever. Subject change. Give me some juicy details. Please tell me he’s an awesome kisser.”
I shook my head, laughing at her, but I felt my cheeks burning as I thought of Lucas’s kisses. He was most definitely awesome. Epic. Off-the-charts.
She grinned, pointing a fry at me. “I knew it. Details. Now.”
“No.” I reached for another fry but she pulled them away.
“No details, no fries.”
Mom picked me up after school and we went to a movie, then dinner, something we hadn’t done in ages. When we got home, it was clear that the estate sale lady was right about not being around to watch the vultures. Our house was almost picked clean of small items. Sold tags were on most of the furniture. I was grateful my room was off-limits, since I was bringing everything with me.
“You okay?” I gripped Mom’s hand as we walked into the kitchen, where the cupboards were open and almost bare. We’d saved a set of dishes and glasses, some pots and pans, but all the fancy china and crystal was gone.
> She bit her lip as she took it all in. She squeezed my hand. “I will be.”
We watched a Hugh Grant movie, since Mom loved him, nestled on the couch together like when I was a kid. She drank herbal tea and I ate popcorn. We even managed to laugh a little when Hugh’s friends all crammed into a tiny car to race across London so he could declare his love to Julia Roberts.
“We’re going to be okay, Mom,” I whispered, as the movie credits rolled.
“I hope so, honey. I hope so.”
Lucas texted me as I was falling asleep. He’d gone to a basketball game with friends.
“How’s my girl?”
“Sleepy. But ok.”
“How’s your mom?”
“Sad. But sober.”
“That’s good, right?”
It was.
Darcy and Marilyn,
Houses built on sand collapse. Empires built on lies cannot stand. I pray for forgiveness.
–Ty
Chapter Twenty-Eight
December 6
Mom and I stood in the driveway ready to go our separate ways on Saturday. A line of people snaked down our sidewalk, anxious to get into the sale. They watched us curiously as we stood by our vehicles.
Mrs. Sandri had given us a key and told us to clean and paint, whatever we needed to do. Mom had decided to paint. She looked determined, wearing an old Tri T-shirt and sweatpants. I didn’t even know she owned sweats.
“Come by on your lunch break,” she said, since I was scheduled to work all day at Liz’s.
I nodded, my throat tight around unshed tears. I was so proud of her and so relieved she hadn’t relapsed. I’d been terrified she would. I took a breath and smiled. “Don’t paint the living room puke green. Or princess pink.” I crossed my eyes, making her laugh.
She did her best Fake-Bake Pam impression. “I think you know I have much better taste than that.”
We laughed and hugged each other tightly.
I was glad to be working by myself for the first part of the morning. The smell of brewing coffee relaxed me, reminding me that I was in a safe place. His Royal Hotness was my first customer, entering through the alley door before I’d unlocked the front door. Unlike the front-door customers, he greeted me with a kiss that set me on fire, chasing away my worries with his touch.
“I didn’t think you were working today,” I said, when we came up for air.
“I’m not,” he said, his eyes drinking me in like he hadn’t seen me in a year. “But I wanted to see you.” I leaned against his chest and sighed without words. He held me, running a hand through my hair. “What’s wrong?”
“The house is practically empty. It’s so hard being there when it doesn’t feel like home.”
“You’re almost out of there,” he whispered against my hair.
“I know.” I raised my head to smile at him. “Mom’s at Mrs. Sandri’s today. Painting. But I don’t think she knows how.”
“I can go by the house to help her.”
I rolled my eyes. “How many times must we discuss the hero complex? You’re not in charge of rescuing us.”
His jaw tightened. “Stop psycho-analyzing me. I happen to be an experienced painter.”
I stepped around him to go unlock the front door. “Of course you are,” I said over my shoulder, flipping the closed sign to open. “You also leap tall buildings in a single bound.”
He ignored me, instead busying himself at the espresso machine. “I have a ladder. Paintbrushes. I even have painter’s pants.”
“I have a better idea. If you really have nothing to do today, how about fixing my truck?”
His smile faded. “Is it acting up?”
“No, just the blue smoke you already saw. But I’d like to know it’s in good shape.”
He frowned at me. “Are you planning a road trip?”
“No.” My cheeks flushed under his penetrating stare.
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What are you up to, Shaker Girl?”
I turned away, filling the pastry case. “I’m not up to anything. You know I want the truck fixed. And we’ll have the estate sale money by the end of the week. So I can pay you for parts.” I shot him a sideways glance. “And labor.”
“My labor costs are high.” He took the pastry box and set it on the counter, then pulled me into his arms again. “Very high. But I’ll consider giving you a discount.” He bent to kiss me again, tasting like coffee.
The front door whooshed open and we pulled apart. His eyes danced as he looked down at me, holding out his hand. “Give me your truck key.”
I fished my keys out of my pocket and handed them over. Lucas glanced toward the guy in bike shorts who’d paused to pick up a copy of the daily paper I’d set on a table.
“I’ll see you later,” he whispered, kissing me quickly on the top of my head. I heard the alley door close as I turned to take the cyclist’s order.
Lucas returned at five o’clock, just as my shift ended. He’d texted me earlier, telling me that he and Mom decided I had to wait until the end of the day to see their handiwork, because it was a surprise. True to his word, he wore painter’s pants, a torn T-shirt, and a bandana tied around his forehead. There was grease on his arms and paint splatters on his nose. It was surprisingly sexy.
“Wow,” I said. “How much is this day going to cost me?”
“You have no idea,” he said. “Even with your girlfriend discount, you’ll probably have to take out a loan.” He slanted me a wicked grin. “Or maybe we can work something else out.”
Liz emerged from Fairyland, a stack of books in her hands. She stopped short when she saw Lucas. “Oh my. What have you been up to?”
He shrugged. “Not rescuing people. Not helping out people I care about. Not much of anything, really.”
Liz looked between us and laughed. “I’m not sure what’s going on here,” she said, “but I’d recommend a shower for one of you. Dinner for both of you.” She stage-whispered to me, “Somewhere romantic. With lots of candles.”
“What a genius idea. Darcy, you can drive.” Lucas tossed my keys over the counter and I caught them, barely.
“What about the shower?” I said.
“Go check out your new purple living room. Then pick me up at my place in an hour.” Lucas turned and headed for the front door. He stopped to look at me over his shoulder. “Don’t be late. I turn into a monster if I’m not fed regularly.”
“Maybe I prefer vampires.”
“You disappoint me,” he said, shaking his head in mock disgust. “I thought your tastes were more original.”
The door slammed behind him, but I knew he heard my laughter.
The living room wasn’t purple. The pale gray walls were soft and welcoming, and the molding and baseboards gleamed white. The colors made the pale pink stone around the fireplace glow, beckoning people to gather around it.
“This is amazing,” I breathed, looking around.
“We did good, didn’t we?” Mom agreed. I raised my eyebrows at her grammar. She giggled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her T-shirt and jeans were covered with paint splatters and her grin was huge, and proud.
How could I ever thank him? I knew he was kidding about payment, but I wished I could show him how much his time meant. I knew that I would’ve done the same for him, if I could. Maybe someday I could return all the favors I owed him.
I looked out the window to the barren trees outside. When something was given out of love, was it really a favor? Or was it simply a gift, given without expectation of anything in return? I knew the answer.
“He helped me paint for several hours.” Mom smiled at me. “He’s quite entertaining. And very sweet. I’d say you’re a lucky girl, but I think he’s lucky, too, to have found you.”
I blushed. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” Mom said.
“What are you doing for dinner?” I suddenly felt guilty and anxi
ous about leaving Mom alone tonight. “You could join us.”
Mom shook her head. “No way. You two deserve a night out without your pathetic mom tagging along. Besides, I have plans.”
That was a surprise. “Plans? With who?”
“Some new friends from my meetings. We’re having Thai food, then going bowling.”
My mouth dropped open. “Bowling? You? Do you even know how?”
“I think there’s a stick involved, right? And beanbags?”
Laughing, I tossed a rag at her. “You’re doomed.”
We washed the paintbrushes in the utility sink in the basement and left them to dry.
“I brought clothes and toiletries so I could shower here,” Mom said. “Since the sale goes until seven tonight.”
That was a good sign, Mom planning ahead. But I was still anxious. “You sure you’ll be okay tonight?” I asked. “Call me after bowling when you’re heading home. I’ll meet you there, so we can face the vulture pickings together.”
Mom pulled me into a hug. “Don’t worry. I feel like a new person today. This was what I needed, to get busy. You just enjoy your night with Lucas.” She released me from her hug. “Darcy, we haven’t talked about this for a long time, but make sure you’re using protection, okay? If you are having sex, I want you to be safe.”
“Mom!”
She frowned at me. “It’s my job to look out for you. I don’t mean to embarrass you, but—”
“Mom, stop. We’re not. Trust me, okay?”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re not? Really?”
God. She was worse than Sal.
“This conversation is over. I have to pick up Lucas in half an hour.” I sighed and tugged at my hair. “You’re right about him, Mom. He’s very sweet. We’re not rushing things.”
She sighed, with what I assumed was relief. “Well, when the time does come—”
“Bye, Mom,” I hollered as I shot up the basement stairs like a rocket. “We’ll finish this conversation in our next lives.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
How (Not) to Fall in Love Page 22