How (Not) to Fall in Love(25)

She ignored my outstretched hand and pulled me into a hug. “I know you won’t. Now let’s get out of here and tell your uncle the good news.”





Chapter Ten


October 3


The next day I barely focused on school. Mom had been passed out on the couch when I’d gotten home from the coffee shop the night before, killing my glow from Tin Lizzy’s. I wanted to talk to her about my new job. About ditching her at the photo shoot. About Dad’s latest postcard that had arrived yesterday. But how could I if she wasn’t awake in the mornings and was hardly ever sober at night?

She wasn’t home when I got home from school. After calling Liz to figure out my work schedule, I took Toby for a long run, listening on my phone to one of Dad’s classic spiels on how to survive tough times. “The human spirit is indomitable,” he said. “Just like gardens that lie dormant all winter and resurrect every spring. So do we, even when we’re sure we can’t.”

His latest postcard wasn’t so indomitable. The front of the plain black card said, “This is a postcard from someone on the road.” How lame. On the back he’d scrawled, “I’m still looking. Not sure when I’ll find it. But I love you. –Dad.”

What was I supposed to do with that?

My stomach rumbled as Toby and I neared home. I hadn’t eaten lunch at school because I’d forgotten my sandwich, and I didn’t want to spend any cash. I thought of Mom spending her day with the evil Pam, and guilt washed over me as I remembered how I’d ditched the photo shoot and destroyed our henge.

Instead of microwaving junk tonight, I’d make her dinner, to apologize for everything.

But I had no idea what to cook. I’d never made anything besides cereal, Pop Tarts, and sandwiches. Maybe I could find something easy from one of her cookbooks.

I flopped onto the couch with a stack of cookbooks. Toby jumped up next to me, nosing the books. How did that crazy dog know I was reading about food?

French Cuisine for Special Occasions. Indonesian Delicacies for the Adventurous Cook. Whatever happened to Cooking for Dummies? I pulled out my phone and searched “cooking for idiots.” Aha. Cookingfortheclueless.com.

Step one: what ingredients are on hand?

Hmm. I moved Toby from my lap, went to the pantry, and stared at the nearly empty shelves. Noodles. A jar of salsa. A can of tuna. A half-empty box of generic cereal. Two bottles of unopened dill pickles. A can of evaporated milk.

“Not even Mom could turn this junk into a meal,” I told Toby.

I looked at the website again. “Tasty meals on a tight budget.” That was more like it. I clicked the link and scrolled through the choices. Tuna noodle casserole. Hmm. I pictured the pantry shelves. We had noodles. And tuna. What else did I need? Frozen peas, cream of mushroom soup. Sour cream. I had twenty bucks in my wallet.



When Mom got home three hours later, she almost fainted when she saw the casserole dish on the counter.

“Darcy? Is this… Did you cook dinner?”

I grinned. “Yes ma’am. It ain’t fancy, but it’s not too bad.”

She gaped at me, then regained her composure. “Don’t say— ”

“Ain’t. I know.” I grabbed a plate from the cupboard and spooned a heap of tuna and noodles on it, then zapped it in the microwave.

“So.” I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to give her the same assessing look she’d given me every day after school. “How’s life? Aside from your photographer bailing on you?”

She laughed, then dropped her keys on the counter and walked over to give me a hug.

“My day sucked. But it just got a lot better.” She held me tight.

“Mom, please. Only vulgar girls say ‘sucked.’”

She stepped back from me and shook her head. “You never cease to amaze me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Mom. It’s just tuna casserole, not the Nobel Prize.” I opened the freezer and grabbed the pint of Ben & Jerry’s I’d splurged on.

“How was your day?” she asked. “The truth, please.”

I shrugged. “Like yours. It sucked.” I pulled the lid off the ice cream and grinned at her. “But it’s better now.”

We sat together on the couch watching some show about hot aliens with supernatural powers. One of them kind of reminded me of Lucas.

“So,” I said. “I have news. I have a job.”

She almost choked on her food. “You’re kidding. Where?”

I told her about Charlie and Liz, about how I’d made a mess with Bella but somehow gotten the job anyway. I didn’t mention Lucas. I was keeping him all to myself.

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

Her pride made it that much harder to tell her the next thing. I swallowed over the lump that rose in my throat.

“After I left Pam’s, I went to the cabin. And I…” I blinked my eyes against the tears. “I knocked down Dad’s Stonehenge.”

Mom didn’t say anything for a long time, then she heaved a long sigh. “So you saw the ‘for sale’ sign?”

I nodded, still fighting back tears, and full of remorse.

“I was going to tell you. Eventually. But I knew you’d be upset.” She gave me a sad smile. “Guess I was right about that.”