How (Not) to Fall in Love(37)

She gave me a sad, halfhearted wave as I walked away. I felt unsettled, too. Sal was my only friend left at Woodbridge. I didn’t want to lose her, but all I could think about was the next problem, and the next, and hope that someday things would be normal again. Not like they used to be, but a different type of normal, one where there’d be time for Sal and hanging out. I just hoped she’d still be there for me when that day finally came.



I called Mom during a free period, shivering on the empty soccer field because I didn’t want anyone to overhear my conversation.

“Mom, I’ve got an idea. A way for us to get money.”

“Money? What are you talking about?”

Her voice sounded slurred. God. It was only one forty-five. On a Tuesday. Working for Pam was a crap job but it wouldn’t last if she kept drinking during the day.

I pushed that worry away and concentrated on the one I could do something about. “We could sell our stuff at an estate sale. Most of it anyway. I bet we’d make a lot of cash.”

Silence.

“Mom?”

Her sigh was long and shaky. “I don’t know, Darcy. That sounds…overwhelming.”

I paced along the edge of the field. “I know, but I’m going to talk to Charlie about it today. Get some names from him. Will you at least think about it?”

She sighed again. “I guess so. But even if we do it, I’m not going to have time to deal with it.”

So it was going to be my problem? How would I pull off an estate sale by myself?

“Mom, I don’t think I can do it alone.” I hesitated. “Will you be home tonight? After I get off work I’ll make dinner. We can talk about it.”

“You don’t have to cook.”

“I know.” But if I didn’t, who would? Besides, I was getting better at it. I’d found an old cookbook in Charlie’s store that didn’t require twenty ingredients for every recipe. I wasn’t a gourmet chef like my mom, but the stuff I made was edible. Usually.

“I’m not sure how late I’ll be working.” Her voice was distant. “And I might just go to bed when I get home.”

I held my breath, anxiety overtaking me again. Exhale. “Okay. Can you call me though? Let me know when you’re home.”

“I’ll try to remember.”

How hard was it to remember to call your own daughter? And who was the mom, anyway?

I knew the answer to that, even if it made me sad and anxious. But if I had to be the parent, then okay. I was going to make this happen, because I had no other choice.

Charlie grinned as he looked up from behind the counter. “So what’s the emergency? Donut deficiency?” He lifted the lid of his donut case and handed me my favorite. He never ran out of pink frosting and sprinkles.

I took a huge bite, then plunked onto a swiveling stool and dropped my messenger bag to the floor. “I wish that’s all I needed.” I brushed crumbs off my shirt. “Mom and I have to move. By the end of the month.”

Charlie’s grin faded. “Oh God, Darcy.” His eyes filled with sympathy and sadness. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s just too much. It’s not fair.”

I frowned. “Honestly, Charlie, I can’t get distracted feeling sorry for myself.” It was true. I’d thought about it on the bus ride. We needed money desperately. I had to do what I could to get Mom to face reality somehow. You can’t control the storms that tear through your crop, Dad said. But it’s up to you what you do after the storm moves on. You can give up, or clean up.

“I need names of estate sale companies. People you know, honest people who won’t screw us over.” Charlie regarded me soberly and I continued, “And we’ve got to find an apartment, too. Somewhere cheap, but not too scary.”

“I might know of a few places.” Lucas startled me as he emerged from the curtains hiding his fix-it area.

My hormones did a happy dance at the sound of his voice. I was glad Sal wasn’t there to say “I told you so.”

“We can’t afford too much.” I dropped my eyes, embarrassed, then remembered who I was talking to. Lucas was hardly a rich kid. He would understand. His gaze fixed steadily on mine as he waited for me to speak.

“Depending on how much we make on the estate sale, I’m guessing we can afford about six or seven hundred a month. We need two bedrooms. And somewhere that takes dogs.”

“Duh. Of course you need to bring Toby.” His mouth quirked up, but I thought I saw a trace of pity in his eyes, and my jaw tightened.

“If you know of some places, that’d be great,” I said a little stiffly. “We don’t have much time.”

The two of them stared at me without speaking. I looked from Charlie to Lucas, bothered by their silence. “What is it?” I asked. “You both still speak English, don’t you?” I tried to joke, but I needed to keep my momentum, just like when I ran. I slid off the stool and headed toward the furniture section. “We’re probably going to need a small kitchen table. No way can we take our gigantic one to a small apartment.”

Lucas stood between me and the furniture. My shoulder brushed against his chest as I stepped around him, and I tried to ignore the sparks shooting through me from the brief touch.

“We should probably keep the good stuff we already have, right? Like the espresso maker, the toaster, that kind of stuff.” My words tumbled over each other. Keep moving. Gotta keep moving. I turned back to Charlie. “Mom always bought the best.” I glanced at Lucas and smiled shakily. “Anyway, I know a guy who can fix those things if they break.” My heart didn’t race. Too much. My pulse stayed steady. Mostly. This “just friends” thing was working great.