If Only We (7 page)

The first step in this plan is to get Lyndsay on board with the ruse. I'll say I’m meeting up with her in the morning so the two of us can “carpool.” Instead, I will be inside her house all day. What will I be doing while I'm there? I’m supposed to be searching out my career path. I haven’t quite figured the details of how yet. Something will come to me.

The harder part, aside from keeping it secret, will be getting Faith to go along with it. Due to their animosity, I wouldn’t want to add on the aiding and abetting of my lie to the things my mom dislikes about Faith. I'd have to convince her that I would take full responsibility. Faith may know what I'm doing, but since I
am
an adult, my mom should not hold it against her.

The hardest part? Not screwing it up this time around.

Chapter Eight

Tuesday, June 5
^th

I send Lyndsay a text message when I wake up the next day for her to come over later on so I can talk to her about something. She asks what it's about but I don’t tell her any details. It’s better not to have any written proof floating around in the digital world.

After I take care of some chores around the house, I ask Kaitlin if she wants to watch some more episodes. I cross my fingers that she will because I cannot stand being in my head any longer. It has become a whirlwind that keeps trying to suck me down into a pit without a way to climb up. I need a distraction, even if for a few hours.

She says, “Just a couple. I have a book I want to finish.”

I always saw her reading but never bothered to see what it was. “What book?” I ask.

“It’s called
What My Mother Doesn’t Know
.”

I brighten up. “I read that.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

I can’t blame her for the surprise. Reading for pleasure is something I haven’t done much of in the last year. I nod. “I picked it up at the school library a couple years ago. It was different than what I’m used to but I really liked it.”

A smile slowly appears on Kaitlin's face. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure if I would like a story written in poems. I almost didn’t get it but I’m glad I did.”

It may seem like such an ordinary thing, having a book in common, but it feels like more. This is something she and I didn’t share before. When my mom and her dad started seeing each other, it was new for both of us. For me, it was the first time I saw my mom with somebody other than my dad. For Kaitlin, it had been just her and her dad for years. Her mom left when she was six and she has never tried to communicate with Kaitlin since. I was never told much else. It broke my heart to think about somebody doing that to their own child. I got the impression that Kaitlin was okay with the way things were so I didn’t worry much.

Mom and Maurice got married last summer. Although we all moved into the same house, Kaitlin and I haven’t had much time to talk. I was busy with senior year—homework and studying and preparing for college. Until the TV show, we were lucky to talk at all. It never really felt like I had a sister. It felt more like a roommate, only she lived in the room across the hall.

Just before dinner, Lyndsay knocks on the front door. The second I open it, she bursts in. She is wearing her professional outfit: gray slacks along with a white button down. She says, “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I got the job!” she squeals with a big smile.

“Of course you did.”

She frowns. “Where’s the enthusiasm?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” I give her a squeeze. “I really am very happy for you.”

“Thanks. I would have been here earlier but I had some forms to fill out. Then I had to talk with the manager about my schedule. I start next Tuesday.”

“That’s cool.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?” She pauses and whispers, “Did last night not go over well?”

I glance over at the kitchen where my mom is. “It…everything went fine.”

She wipes the back of her hand across her forehead. “Oh, good. I was worried something wouldn’t go according to plan.”

“Actually…” I start to say when my mom walks into the room.

She stops mid-walk. “Oh, hello sweetie.”

“Hi, Aunt Joy! Guess what? I got a job at The Community Market.”

My mom’s eyebrows rise. “A job?”

“Yup. It sounds like they might need someone else too, since I can only take on a couple days. So that’s good news.”

I freeze. Oh no. I open my mouth to change the subject but my mom beats me. “Good news?” she asks with a wary glance in my direction.

“For Adrienne.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we were talking last night,” Lyndsay begins.

“About the job opening,” I interrupt. “You see, Lynds thought it would be a good idea for me to apply too. That way I could pay for more things on my own. I considered it for a minute but decided that it would be too much for me to do along with the volunteer work.”

Lyndsay stares at me dumbfounded. “Wha-huh?”

My mom nods. “That’s a wise decision, Adrienne. Maybe once you see how you handle your classes in the fall you can look into a part-time job in the spring.” She turns to Lyndsay. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, dear. It’s all set, so come on in.” She walks back to the kitchen.

I heave a sigh of relief. “That was close.”

Lyndsay grabs at my arm. “I thought you talked to her.”

I put my hands over my face. “I was going to but I just couldn’t.”

“But you’re going to tell her?”

“Eventually…”

“What do you mean eventually?”

I touch her arm. “I can explain more after we eat. Just…pretend I’m still going for now. Please?”

“Okay, but only because you asked so politely.”

Later on in my room, I tell her all about my idea. She sits there silently as I talk. Then her forehead wrinkles and she finally says, “You know I’m willing to support you in your crazy endeavors. Even though I don’t think it is a good idea, I can’t tell you what to do. The problem is going to be getting my mom on board.”

“That’s the part I was most concerned with. The last thing I want is any more trouble between her and my mom. The bottom line is that this is my decision. If my mom wants to blame someone, it will have to be me, whether she likes it or not.”

Lyndsay puts her arm around my shoulder. “I’ll find a way to convince her.” She stands up, reaches into her pants pocket, and makes a face. “Drat. There’s a hole in this pocket.”

“Did you lose something?”

“No, I was reaching for my phone, but I realized I put it in my purse. Good thing I did apparently.” She feels it again. “Ugh. I don’t want to fix it but I will need these for work.”

I go to my dresser. “I can do it. Just leave them.” I hold out a pair of jeans. “Here. Change into these. I’ll have that pocket fixed by tomorrow.”

She hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.” The more projects I have to do, the better. Plus, I can brush up on my sewing skills. It has been at least a year since I've had to mend anything.

After she leaves, I pull out the sewing kit from my closet and get to work. It doesn’t take me long to fix it. I wish it took longer because I need something to distract me. I keep thinking about tomorrow and everything surrounding my decision. There is so much that is wrong with what I am doing. Yet the idea of being honest brings back memories I'd sooner forget than relive. What am I going to do?

Chapter Nine

Wednesday, June 6
^th

Sleep eludes me most of the night. When I get to Lyndsay’s, I'm thankful I have nowhere to be so I can take a quick nap. Faith, as I expected, wasn’t too keen about me not telling my mom the truth. She did agree that I should take some time to find out what I want from life.

“In fact,” she says. “It might not be a bad idea to take a semester off.”

I straighten up. “I couldn’t do that.” Taking a semester off would be worse than taking the summer off.

“Why not?”

“I need to at least be going to college, even if it’s not the career my mom wants.”

“
Do
you know what you want to do?” she asks.

I slump down in my chair. “No,” I say, dragging out the word.

“Just think about it. You don’t want to rush into something else and regret it.”

What she says resonates with me. I spent my high school years preparing for a career I didn’t want in the first place. It would be less than useless for me to jump into something else just to go to college. I need to know what I want before I proceed. Right now, I have no idea what I want. It's all for the best since I would have to sign up for classes in the next couple of weeks to get in.

I spend the morning browsing the internet for career suggestions to no avail. Instead of spending the afternoon getting the same results, I organize their books by author and movies by title. When I finish, the living room feels cleaner, but I am still at a loss as far as what to do with myself. I keep on organizing until Lyndsay comes back.

She stares at the room. “What are you doing to my house?”

“Organizing,” I say as I transfer magazines from the coffee table to the magazine rack.

“You are officially crazy.”

“What makes you the judge of that?”

“Uh, the fact that I’m not crazy, that’s what.”

I stand up with my hands on my hips. “The fact that you think you can say that while being part of this family makes
you
the crazy one.”

“Let's call it a tie.” She sits down on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

I sit next to her. “I say rematch.”

She sticks her tongue out at me. “I'd ask you how the career search went today but I have a feeling I already know the answer.”

“Yeah. I'm still completely lost there.” And probably will be for a while.

“I forgot to ask you this morning: did you take care of my pants?”

I jump up off the couch. “Oh! I left them in my car.” I run out and come back in with them. “Here you go.”

She reaches in the pocket. “Wow. I can’t even tell the difference from when I bought these.”

I make a face. “You exaggerate.”

She shakes her head. “Really, I can’t.” Her face lights up. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“You can do this,” she says, holding up her pants to me.

“Sewing? I can’t make a career out of sewing.”

She rolls her eyes. “Not just sewing. Mending, hemming, quilting… Ooh! You could design clothes!”

“That's a bit unrealistic.”

“So? Maybe it's so unrealistic that it's possible.”

“I think I just won the rematch.”

“I'm being
serious
! Where do all the great ones start? They start with something small, something simple, then they keep going until they reach the top. You could make it into a business.”

I have spent so many years dwelling on one career. Then I spent these last couple of days coming up with others. Never once did I think about starting a business. Me? Running a business of my own? Could I do it? My first thoughts are along the lines of “not going to happen” but I have to keep options open.

She can see me considering the possibility. “Just tell me you'll think about it.”

I smile and say, “I’ll think about it.”

Chapter Ten

Friday, June 8
^th

Two days later, I'm still thinking about it. I can’t
stop
thinking about it. There's just something about it that appeals to me. Although I have no clue why it would. I have barely done any bigger sewing projects aside from mending since I was ten.

Lyndsay reiterates it Friday. “My mom still has the sewing machine in the attic somewhere. Remember when we played with it to make quilts for our dolls?”

“Yeah,” I say with a nostalgic smile. “That was fun.”

“See! The look on your face says it all. It’s settled. We’re going to dig it out.” We go upstairs to the attic and find it covered with a film of dust. “There’s step one. Step two is finding some fabric.” She moves the sewing machine out of the way and we open up the boxes nearby.

Dust particles puff up into the air, causing me to cough. “Why are none of these boxes marked?” I ask, setting aside another box to rub my nose.

“They were going in the attic, it didn’t matter. Plus, my mom has a photographic memory of everything up here.” She drops a box down in a huff. “You would think they would be right here.” She walks to the doorway and yells, “Mom! Where’s all that fabric we used to have?”

“It should be up there!” Faith yells back.

“Where?”

“Under the old black and white television set!” Sure enough, there it was.

We take the sewing machine and box of fabric downstairs and set it down on the living-room floor. After moving the coffee table off to the side, I open up the box. I chuckle as I pull out some flowered fabric. “Hey, I used this one to make a scrunchie.”

She laughs. “I think I still have that scrunchie.” She reaches in and then freezes. “Oh my goodness.”

“What?” She holds up one of our quilts. The bright colors clash like an outfit from the eighties. “Oh my goodness is right,” I say as I touch it. “Boy, does that bring back the memories.” Our poor dolls. All they ever wanted was a nice duvet. What did we make them? A crazy quilt.

Faith comes into the room. “When are we leaving for Ben’s house?”

Lyndsay looks at the clock on the VCR. “Crap. In about ten minutes.”

While she gets ready, I move everything out of the way. I almost forgot about their families going to dinner tonight. Aside from the brief moments Lyndsay and I had, most of the week was spent with my family. After the whirlwind of a week I just had, I really need to get out of the house and talk to someone.

And I know exactly who that someone should be.

~*~

Chevy and I meet up after dinner at the Sweet Treat, the local outdoor ice cream eatery twenty yards from the high school. It was a smart move on their part because when kids are walking home from school, all they want is to go there every day. Of course, when you’re young you don’t have enough money to.

We place our order—he chooses a strawberry shake and I choose marshmallow—then we take a seat on the furthest picnic table along the side of the building. After he fills me in on his week, I tell him about mine. I try to make it as brief as possible, since I've already talked excessively about it in the last five days.