by Amy Clipston
I climbed into my Jeep and steered through the parking lot while considering my day. I wondered why Taylor didn’t like me, while Brett was jealous of him. I switched on my favorite radio station in an attempt to drown out my conflicted thoughts.
When I pulled into the driveway, I stared up at my house and wondered what Taylor would say if he came over for a visit. Would he sneer at the house my father had paid for with his successful banking career?
I headed toward the back door with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I couldn’t figure out why Taylor didn’t like me. I couldn’t get past it, even though I knew I should just let the frustration go. I’d always tried to be everyone’s friend. I wanted people to like me. As far as I knew, most kids at our school thought I was nice. And if that was true, then why didn’t he like me?
I hoped I could grasp calculus quickly and not have to deal with Taylor Martinez for more than a few tutoring sessions.
chapter four
The following afternoon I made a detour to the mall after school. Although I was still technically grounded, I knew my mom had a meeting at the country club and wouldn’t be home for about another hour and a half. I had just enough time to dash into the bookstore and see if the new Ludwig Becker mystery had made its bookstore debut. I’d been watching the author’s website, and it said some exclusive bookstores would have copies today. I hoped the mall’s bookstore was considered exclusive.
I steered into a parking space near the mall entrance and then hurried into the bookstore. I perused the new arrivals section, and my heart sank when I didn’t find my favorite mystery author’s book on the rack. I made my way to the mystery section and scanned the shelves, finding Becker’s shelf. I pulled out one of his books and began to read the summary on the back, even though I’d read the book twice already.
“Can I help you find something?”
I looked back and found Taylor Martinez watching me with a couple of books in his hands. He wore a blue shirt with a nametag pinned to it, declaring him a bookstore employee.
“Taylor. Hey.” I hugged the book to my chest. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“I’ve been here a couple of years now.” He pointed toward the book in my arms. “You’re a Becker fan, huh?”
I glanced down at it. “Yeah. I’ve actually read this one a few times. I was hoping to find his new book.”
He stepped over to me. “Excuse me. Let me just put these books up.”
“Sure.” I moved to the side, and his arm brushed mine as he placed the books on the shelves.
He moved away from the shelf and tapped the book in my hands. “So you’re waiting for Beyond the Fog too.”
“You read Becker?” I studied him, finding it interesting that he liked the same author I did.
Taylor shrugged. “Sure I do. I like a good mystery, and he knows how to write them.”
“Yeah, he does. I heard it was going to be out early in a few exclusive stores. I was hoping our little bookstore would be considered exclusive, but I guess not.”
He leaned against the bookshelf behind him. “No, I don’t think we’re exclusive.” He pointed toward the front of the store. “That book’s actually going to hit our new-arrivals shelves on Friday. Do you want me to snag a copy for you? We have a waiting list, but I can sneak your name in.”
“Oh.” I was caught off guard by his thoughtfulness. Could we actually be friends? “Sure. I’d love one.”
“Okay.” Taylor touched the cover of the book in my hands. “I liked Murder in the Delta. That was a good one, but Sweet Revenge was my favorite.” Reaching past me, he retrieved Sweet Revenge from the shelf and handed it to me.
“Yeah, it was his best. I hope the new one is just as good.”
“I bet it will be.” He pushed an errant curl back from his forehead, and I wondered what it would be like to have naturally curly hair. I wondered if he hated his hair or appreciated it.
I reached out to place the books on the shelf, and he stepped closer to me.
“Want me to put those back on the shelf for you?”
“Thanks.” I handed him the books.
“You’re welcome.” He pushed the books into their proper places and then faced me again. “You do realize I get paid big bucks to keep these books straight.”
I laughed. “You make the big bucks, huh?”
“Absolutely. Bookstore work pays minimum wage, and don’t you forget it.” He grinned, and I was caught off guard by his smile, which made him even more attractive.
“Why don’t you put your high salary to good use and recommend another good mystery author for me.”
“I’d be happy to.” He began pulling books off the shelf while telling me which authors wrote the best stories.
He handed me a few books, and his witty commentary about the stories made me laugh. Before I knew it, I was holding a stack of six books.
“These are a few of my favorites anyway. If we had all afternoon, I could give you my recommendations for all of the sections.” He took the books from my hands. “Do you think you’ll purchase any of them today?”
“Hmm.” I pressed my finger to my lips. “Which are your top two picks?”
“That’s a difficult question.” He examined the books. “These two.” He pulled out two from the stack.
“I’ll take those, then.” I took the books from him, and he put the others back on the shelf. “What time is it?”
He checked his wristwatch. “Almost four fifteen.”
“Oh no.” Panic washed over me. I had less than thirty minutes to get home. Mom always got home by 4:45 on her meeting days. “I have to run.”
“Let’s get you checked out.”
I followed him to the register, where he rang up my books and I paid. “Thanks for your help,” I said as I took the bag from him.
“I look forward to hearing how you like the books.”
“Great.” I adjusted my purse strap on my shoulder. “See ya.”
I rushed to my Jeep and sped home, cutting through a nearby neighborhood to avoid driving past the country club.
When I reached the driveway, I parked in my usual spot and then ran into the house. I hid the two new books in my room, and then I ran down to the kitchen. I was spreading out my homework on the kitchen table when Logan appeared in the doorway.
He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at me. “I thought you were grounded.”
I glared at him, but he just stood there grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Look, I ran by the bookstore on the way home. Just keep it to yourself, okay?”
The hum of an engine announced my mother’s arrival home. I was arranging my schoolbooks on the table when Mom bounded through the back door.
“Hello!” She balanced a grocery bag on her hip. “Logan, would you please go get the other bag in my trunk and then lock the car?”
“Sure.” Logan gave me one last smirk before taking the keys from Mom and disappearing out the door.
“Hi, Mom.” I popped up from the table and started to put the groceries away. “How was your day?”
“It was good, thank you. And yours?” Mom poked her head in the refrigerator and began opening drawers.
“Fine, thanks.” I placed a jar of peanut butter in the pantry.
Mom stacked lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes, green peppers, onions, radishes, and carrots on the counter and then looked at me. “Did you see your tutor today?”
“No.” Yes, I did, but he didn’t tutor me. “We only meet on Tuesdays.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She pointed toward the pile on the counter. “Whitney, would you be a dear and start making the salad? I need to get the salmon loaf in the oven.”
“Sure.” I pulled out a large crystal salad bowl and began slicing and dicing the vegetables.
My mother preheated the oven and then started pulling together the ingredients for the salmon loaf. While we worked, she filled me in on her club meeting and their charity benefit plans for the coming spring. I nodded
and feigned interest, but my thoughts were stuck at the bookstore. I silently pondered the new information I’d discovered about Taylor Martinez—not only did he work at the bookstore, but he also liked the same genre of books and author I did. Perhaps he and I did have something in common, and we could be friends. What a crazy notion! I had to be losing my mind.
“Whitney?” My mother studied me. “Are you okay? You seem to be on another planet.”
“I’m sorry.” I began to cut up an onion, hoping that the smell would pull my attention away from my thoughts of Taylor. “I was just thinking about school. I have a test in health class tomorrow.”
“Oh.” My mother looked concerned. “Are you prepared?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need to review the material again.” I lifted the cutting board and sprinkled the onion into the bowl.
“Oh, good.” She placed the salmon loaf in the oven and set the timer. “Is the calculus tutoring helping you?”
I shrugged. “Yes, I think so.”
“That’s good.” Mom wiped her hands on a towel. “I expect at least a B on your next calculus test.”
I swallowed a sigh. “Yes, Mom.”
I listened to my mother talk on about her friends at the country club and church while I finished making the salad. Then Mom began washing up some larger bowls and items that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher, and I dried.
“I saw Brett’s mother today at the meeting.” Mom handed me a clean mixing bowl. “How’s Brett doing?”
“Fine, I guess.” I dried the bowl.
“Did you two have a disagreement?” My mother tilted her head with concern.
“We broke up.” I turned my back to her while placing the bowl in the cabinet.
“What?” My mother’s eyes were wide with surprise. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I haven’t had a chance. We’ve both been busy.”
“Oh, Whitney. I’m so sorry. I’m never too busy to talk to you when you need me.” Mom cupped my face with her hands. “You must be devastated.”
“Not really.” I shrugged.
“Did he break up with you?”
“It was sort of mutual. He was starting to break up with me, but I finished his sentences for him.”
“Oh dear.” Mom shook her head and clicked her tongue. “When did this happen?”
I grabbed the utensils from the sink and slipped them into the dishwasher. “Valentine’s Day.”
“I had no idea.” She touched my shoulder. “I wonder why Rhonda didn’t say anything about it to me. That’s simply terrible. I must say something to her about it.”
“Mom!” I grabbed her arm. “Please don’t say anything to Brett or his mom. I said it was mutual. I’m okay with it. Don’t get involved.” This was why I didn’t want to tell my mother about the breakup. She overreacted about everything, and this wasn’t something I needed her to handle for me.
“If you say so.” She shook her head. “He was such a nice young man. Maybe he’ll change his mind and ask you to prom. You certainly don’t want to go alone.”
“I’m really not worried about prom right now, Mom. It’s only February. Besides, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I went to prom alone.” The idea of walking into my senior prom without a date didn’t thrill me, but I could handle it.
“Oh, don’t say that! You have to have a date for the prom, Whitney.” Mom tapped her chin. “I’ll have to talk to some of my friends. I don’t think Lola’s son is dating anyone.”
“Mom, I don’t need your help finding a date for prom, okay? Just worry about your charity events for your women’s group.” Don’t make me your charity case. I closed my eyes and silently counted to ten to prevent myself from saying something rude.
She nodded. “Fine. But if you want me to speak to Rhonda, I will. Maybe she can talk some sense into Brett. You two were an adorable couple.”
I turned my back toward her so she couldn’t see my scowl. “I’m going to go work on my homework until Dad gets home.” I packed up my books and moved to the dining-room table, where I worked until I heard my father’s Mercedes SUV pull into the driveway.
“Whitney!” Mom called from the kitchen. “Your father is home. Would you please set the table?”
“Yes.” I closed up my notebook and headed to the cabinets to grab the dishes. I was setting them out when my father came through the back door.
“Hello, hello!” Dad placed his briefcase on the bench by the door. He was wearing an expensive Italian suit, and his graying brown hair was cut short.
“Daddy!” Even at eighteen, I was always excited when Dad got home. “How was your day?”
“It was good, pumpkin. How was yours?” He made his way into the kitchen, pulling off his tie as he walked.
“Good.” I placed the dishes on the table and then fetched the utensils.
“What smells so good, Darlene?” Dad moved behind Mom and placed a kiss on her cheek, a gesture I’d witnessed every night since I was little.
“Salmon loaf.” Mom motioned for him to move away from the oven. “I need to pull it out.” She glanced toward the doorway. “Where’s Logan? Whitney, would you please call your brother down?”
“I’m here.” Logan appeared and crossed to the cabinets, stopping briefly to high-five Dad on his way. “I’ll get the glasses.”
I set out the utensils while Logan placed a glass at each setting and brought the pitcher of tea. Mom and I brought the meal to the table, and then we all sat in our usual spots.
My father nodded at Logan. “Say the prayer, son.”
We all bowed our heads while Logan prayed out loud. Once he was finished, my father took the large crystal salad serving bowl and filled the small bowl at his place setting before passing the salad to my mother.
“Whitney,” Mom said while filling her salad bowl. “Would you mind running a stack of mail over to Uncle Brad’s tomorrow after school? I’ve been meaning to take it to him, but I keep forgetting. I have a ladies’ luncheon at church tomorrow, so I won’t have time.” She handed the salad to me and then pointed toward the counter. “There are a few letters for your uncle. I’m not certain they’re important, but I think we should take them to him right away. It’s funny how he’s still getting mail here. I guess it takes a while for an address change to catch up with everyone.”
“Sure.” I filled my salad bowl. “I’d love to see Em. I haven’t run into her at school.”
“Oh my gosh. The funniest thing happened at school today.” Logan launched into a story about something that had happened during gym class, and my parents laughed.
I studied my parents, and I suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion. I was truly blessed to come from a family that was still intact.
As I watched my father delight in my brother’s story, I wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up without a father.
chapter five
After school the next day, I steered into Emily’s driveway and parked behind the red Honda Accord my mom had given her last year. The car looked great since Uncle Brad worked on it. In fact, it looked much better than when it had been mine. Brad had healed up nicely after slicing his arm in a body-shop accident over a year ago, and he’d gotten back to both working as an assistant manager in the Cameronville Auto and Body shop and doing some car repairs on the side. Aside from giving the Honda a good tune-up, he’d fixed the dents I’d put in it and painted it bright red. Emily had told me more than once that she loved the car and was thankful Mom gave it to her.
I climbed from the Jeep and walked up the front path toward the small, two-bedroom, ranch-style house. The aluminum siding was beige, and the windows were accented with country-blue shutters. I walked up to the front door and knocked.
Emily opened the door and pulled me into a hug. “Hey, cousin! I was so excited when I got your text message. It’s been way too long since we’ve talked. Come in.”
She was a few inches shorter than I was and had long, naturally curly, brown hair and emeral
d-green eyes. I’d often told her I’d love to have her naturally curly hair, but she insisted I wouldn’t like it as much if I had to deal with the constant knots and tangles. She often let her hair hang free, which drove my mother insane. When Emily lived with us, my mother constantly nagged her about straightening her mess of curls, but I always felt the hair suited my cousin just fine. She wore faded jeans and a loose T-shirt with a classic-car design on it. Her only makeup was a twinge of pink lip gloss, but that was all she needed.
“I’m so glad you’re home. I heard you’ve been working a lot.” I handed her the mail and then followed her into the small family room at the front of the house.
“Yeah, I am,” she said as we walked toward the kitchen. “My dad is letting me work as many hours as I want at the shop as long as I keep my grades up. He’s actually letting me work on a few cars along with doing some of the paperwork in the office.” She tossed the mail onto the counter and then opened the refrigerator. “My scholarships and grants aren’t going to cover all of my expenses next year, so I have to work.” She pulled out two cans of Diet Coke and handed me one. “It’s nice out. Want to sit outside and talk for a while?” She picked up a bowl of caramel popcorn.
“That sounds great.” I grabbed a handful of popcorn as we started back to the door. “I love this stuff. My mom would flip if she saw me eating it.”
“Is she still on you about your weight?” Emily pushed open the door.
“She’s on me about everything.” I shook my head and stepped onto the porch. “Boy, do I miss having you at my house. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you and your dad are on your own, but I miss our talks.”
“I do too.” Emily lowered herself into a plastic chair on the small front porch and rested her ankle on her knee. “Have a seat. Tell me what’s been going on.”
I sat next to her and grabbed another handful of caramel popcorn. “So much has been going on. It’s crazy. I’m actually grounded right now. The only reason I was allowed to come over here was to deliver your mail.”
“What?” Emily studied me. “You haven’t been grounded at all since I moved down here last year. In fact, I’ve never heard of you getting in trouble, ever, Whitney. What on earth did you do to get grounded?”