If Only We (8 page)

When I reach the end, he waits a moment before speaking. Then he says, “First of all, I fully agree with your decision to stop doing something you don’t love. I’m not too keen on withholding that from your mom though.”

I sigh. “I know, neither am I.” I twist my straw between my thumb and index finger. “I want to tell her. I almost did, and then I chickened out. I could just see it all crumble and topple over. My mom wants nothing more than to see me succeed. I just want a little bit of time to figure those details out, and then I’ll come clean.”

He nods. “It’s a tough place to be in, trying to balance out pleasing your parents and following your dreams.”

“It is.”

“Do you know what you want to do?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Not really. Lyndsay is working on convincing me to be a seamstress.”

“Why? Is it something you're good at?”

“Um, sort of?”

He laughs. “That’s a good start, you know. Here’s the difficult question: do you enjoy it?”

I ponder this for a moment. Looking through the box of fabric earlier sent me to a land of reminiscing. All those rainy summer days Lyndsay and I would be sewing until the rain stopped. At the time, it was to stave off boredom. Thinking about the joy I got from creating something made me realize how I really felt. “Yes,” I respond with resolve. “I enjoy it.”

“Then that,” he says, “is your answer.” And it is.

I change the subject. “So, what else have you been up to?”

He shrugs. “Nothing really. Just hanging with Roger and Nathan. Speaking of which, how do you feel about karaoke?”

“Karaoke?” I look into his eyes to see if he is being serious.

He is. “Yes, karaoke.”

The last time I sang was for a spring recital in fifth grade, but I don’t like to think about that night. “I don’t know. I don’t really sing in front of people.”

“You can’t sing?”

“I can, I just…don’t.” I shake my head. “Why? Do you like to?”

“I can take it or leave it. I only ask because Nathan is leaving early for New York and he wants to go to the coffee shop next week for karaoke night.” He puts his hand to his face and sighs. “Of all the things he wants to do before leaving, karaoke and coffee on a Saturday night?”

I stifle a laugh. “Well, at least he didn’t want to go out clubbing or drinking.”

He straightens up a little. For a second he looks unsettled, but then it vanishes. “So, yeah, karaoke next Saturday. You, Lyndsay, and Ben can come.”

“Do I have to sing?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. Then he smirks. “But since it is Nathan’s night, I expect him to drag every last one of us up there at least once.”

I groan. “I guess that would be tolerable. It’s better than having to sing alone.”

He gestures to my cup with his. “Are you finished?” I nod yes. He takes it from me and throws them both away. “I’m going to walk you home.”

“My place is out of your way.”

“So?” He looks at me with raised eyebrows.

I narrow my eyes, and then nod. “Okay, if you insist.”

Chapter Eleven

Saturday, June 9
^th

“He walked you home?” Lyndsay asked in disbelief.

We are walking down the sidewalk at the Hamilton Outdoor Shopping Mall. The weather is cooler today than it usually is at this point in June. I convinced Lyndsay that it was going to be too hot the rest of the summer. She asked me how I knew that. I just rolled my eyes and told her that’s how it always goes. She humored me.

“Yes, he walked me home. What’s so unbelievable about it?”

“It’s not that it’s unbelievable. It just seems…never mind.”

I tap her arm. “Oh no, don’t you never mind me.”

She taps me back. “It’s nothing. I just think it seems interesting.”

“Interesting…that’s not vague at all.”

“Oh, come on, Adrienne!” she says, stopping to face me. “Can’t you see? There’s something more going on here. You should have asked him at graduation.”

“Why? Because he walked me home? He was just being a gentleman.”

“What about at the party last week?” she asks, staring me down.

I press my lips together, unable to come up with a reason. I still haven’t figured that out yet and I somehow doubt I will anytime soon.

She points her finger at me. “See, you know I’m right.”

“Maybe you are. Maybe there is something. But I’m not going to press the issue. Summer is only beginning. I have more important things to worry about.” I was implying my mom and my career but really meant Chevy’s dad. On the way back to my house, I asked him how it felt working with his dad and he didn’t have much to say about it. I got the feeling they weren't close anymore, which broke my heart more, knowing what was to come.

She rolls her eyes as we walk into a clothing store. “I still think you should do something about it.”

“I know you do.” I want to do something too. There's a special bond between us, and I feel like it could grow into something more someday. I just can’t risk it, not yet anyway. I need a little more time. “Besides, how can I focus on becoming a seamstress if I’m dating?” I say to her as a distraction.

Her eyes brighten. “You’re really going to do it?” I beam in response. “Oh, I am so excited now.” She bounces a little bit and claps her hands together. “You know what else? You wouldn’t even have to stop there. You could make your own line of clothes.”

I hold up my hand. “Whoa,” I say, feeling a little overwhelmed. “One thing at a time, Lynds. One thing at a time.”

“Okay, okay.” She puts her fingers to her lips. “There’s so much to be done. Where do you want to start?”

“I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. I need to go to the library next week and get some books on sewing. Spark some ideas better than scrunchies.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s a market for those anymore.” She strolls over to some hair accessories. “Looks like all we’ve got here are jewel-encrusted hair clips, fancy flower barrettes…” She gasps, picking up a jeweled headband. “Look at this.”

“Uh-huh…” It’s a headband. “And?”

She gives me a look. “Check it out, look at this design. You could make this.”

I take it from her and touch the beading on the fabric, lightly following the pattern with my finger. “This, no. Something
like
this, that is a possibility.”

She takes it and hangs it back on the hook. “No, my dear,” she says with conviction, “for you, the possibilities are endless.”

Chapter Twelve

Monday, June 11
^th

On Monday morning, I browse through books online to narrow down the ones I want to get from the library. I wanted to do this over the weekend, but I was afraid of my mom catching me. Instead, Kaitlin and I blitzed through seven more episodes Sunday night. She had finished her book and moved on to a new one about a girl who saves the president. I told her it sounded ridiculous but she informed me it was hilarious.

When Lyndsay gets back, I race out the door to stop by the library on my way home. I only check out a couple of books with the purpose of being able to tuck them into my purse. I also grab a fiction book for good measure. All of Kaitlin’s talk of books has me wanting to read for fun again.

My mom has me toss a salad when I get home. I combine the lettuce, spinach leaves, carrot shavings, and diced tomato into a bowl. As I toss, my mom talks.

“Paige started taking horseback riding lessons on Wednesdays, so now Kaitlin wants to take them. Maurice can drop her off after he gets home from work but it would be great if you could pick her up on your way home.”

“Oh, right,” I say quietly to myself. I say to Mom, “Yeah, sure. I can do it.”

“Great. I would do it, but she would have to wait awhile. I don’t like the idea of leaving her standing around by herself, or having Paige’s mom go out of her way to drop her off.”

I wonder if that is how they had to do it while I was gone. It makes me feel guilty. There were so many little things that happened because of me that I didn’t even realize until now.

She continues, “Kaitlin and I picked out a new color for her room. I’ll need you to stop by the hardware store to get the paint mixed. Maurice left the money for it next to the sample over there by the phone.”

I finish the salad and walk over to pick up the sample. There are two paint samples circled. The lighter shade at the bottom of the card, called Lovely Lilac, is the one I remember vividly. The other is a darker purple named Royalty. I rub my chin. “Um, which one? The top one or the bottom one?” I hold the card up for her.

She glances over. “The bottom one, hon.”

“Okay.” I pick up the twenty and say, “I’m going to go put this in my purse so I don’t forget it,” as I leave the room. I thought it was Kaitlin’s idea to make her room light purple. It never occurred to me that my mom would insist on a color different than the one Kaitlin wanted.

Kaitlin is sitting on her bed as I walk into my room. She is tightly curled up with her book. Her face appears gloomy. I go to her doorway and say, “Dinner’s almost ready.” She nods but doesn’t look up. “I heard about the riding lessons. That should be a lot of fun.”

She mutters what sounds like an “Uh-huh” to me.

I press my lips together. She should be excited. I would be. I have only ridden a horse once while out visiting my dad’s mom in Kentucky when I was eight. However, I know that’s not what is upsetting her. “Do you want to watch another episode tonight? I know we did a lot yesterday, but—”

“Yeah, sure,” she says quickly. “That sounds good.” She gives me a smile but I can tell she is forcing it.

Dinner conversation is mostly between my mom and Maurice. I interject a few things here and there but Kaitlin only says things like, “Pass the potatoes, please.” It doesn’t change much when we sit in front of the television later. She barely reacts to the jokes or the latest scandal going on in Orange County. I just want to chalk it up to her overreacting but I remember how I felt when mom insisted my room be a pale blue instead of forest green. I don’t mind the color so much now, but it wasn’t what I wanted.

Just like nursing wasn’t what I wanted, yet I was going to do it anyway.

That’s when I come up with a plan.

I go back downstairs after Kaitlin goes back to her reading. Mom is on the computer sending an email. “Hey, Mom. I’m trying to figure out what day would work best for painting. I was thinking either a Saturday or a Tuesday.”

“I don’t work this Saturday, so that might work.”

Drat. That won’t help. Time to move to Plan B. “I can’t this Saturday, I’m going out with Lyndsay and Ben and some friends from school.”

“I work the next Saturday, so how about…” she trails off to look at the calendar on the wall, “the thirtieth?”

“Um…” I have no excuses for that day yet.

Before I can move on to Plan C, my mom exclaims, “Oh, shoot! I almost forgot. Grandma’s coming into town on the twentieth.”

“She is?” Then a light bulb comes on in my mind. “I’m sure she would love to see it when she comes.”

“Yes, she would.” She taps her chin. “Well, I don’t see why you two couldn’t manage by yourselves. I think you’re mature enough to handle painting a room without making a mess.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, feigning disappointment. “I know how much you love to paint.”

“Yes, I’ll live.” She glances at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. “I need to go remind Maurice about the visit.” She stands up and kisses me on the cheek before she leaves the room.

Step one? Check.

Chapter Thirteen

Wednesday, June 13
^th

As soon as I get to Lyndsay’s on Wednesday, I dig through the box of fabric. Trails of swatches cover a quarter of the living-room floor.

“Whoa! I didn’t hear a siren,” Lyndsay says.

“Siren?”

“For Hurricane Adrienne! What in the world is going on in here? Are you going to make some headbands?” She sits on the chair next to me.

“No, throw pillows,” I answer. “For Kaitlin.”

“Really? Oh, because you guys are repainting her room.”

“Yep.”

“What color?”

I smile. “Dark purple.” Then I find what I was looking for. “Aha! Got it!” I pull out the paint card to compare. The shade is a little bit lighter but it still matches. I show it to Lyndsay.

“Nice. I thought your mom doesn’t like dark colors.”

“She doesn’t but this is what Kaitlin picked out.” That's the color her room
should
be.

Her forehead wrinkles. “Huh.” Then she shrugs. “Never thought I’d see the day where your mom would be okay with something like that.”

“She’ll get used to it. Eventually.” It’s about time she does. The more comfortable she gets with the little things, the better she will be when she finds out about my career change. Not to mention making this pillow will be proof of my ability.

When they leave, I pull out the library book and open it up to the page I bookmarked. Perfect Frilly Pillow. Hmm…I need some fiberfill to fill the pillow and a lace trim for the edges. I set the book down and search through the box for both. I come up with only enough fiberfill for one pillow and zero trim that matches.

I lean back and sigh. I can’t drive to the store; I can’t be seen in the store. Maybe I could go later tonight. Wait, I have to pick Kaitlin up from her riding lesson. If I go tomorrow, I would need an excuse and nothing is coming to mind. It’s also not easy to sneak a bag of fiberfill in without being noticed. I don’t want to ruin the surprise for Kaitlin or raise questions from my mom.

My phone starts to ring. Who would be calling me while I’m supposed to be working? It’s Chevy. “Could you by any chance do me a favor tonight?” he asks me. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice.

Hearing it makes me want to ask him what’s wrong, but I opt for a more normal approach. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Nathan wants to go see a movie tonight. He invited Brian, and Brian asked if he could bring his girlfriend along.”

“Okay.”

“His girlfriend is Heidi.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I have no desire to be anywhere near her by choice, but I can’t
not
go. Nathan doesn’t want to be a jerk and un-invite him, so I told him I’d find a way to make the best of it. My solution? Invite a couple friends. That way I’m not forced into talking to either of them.”