How (Not) to Fall in Love(40)

He looked at his plate. “The thing about Harvest,” he said quietly, “is that I agree with most of what your dad says.” He looked up and grinned at me. “Your dad and I believe many of the same things. We just have different ways of living what we believe.”

That was an understatement. I thought of my dad jetting around the country and hanging out with famous people. Then I thought of Charlie hanging out behind his counter, listening to anyone’s story in exchange for a donut. Charlie was the listener. My dad was the speaker. But maybe they weren’t so very different underneath the surface.

“You should’ve been a priest,” I said, taking another bite of my sandwich.

His eyebrows rose. “Almost did that,” he said. “But then I ended up with the store. And I met Liz.”

I thought of all the people Charlie helped, the clothes he gave away, the homeless who found warmth in his store on cold days, telling him stories for free donuts. “Your store is like your church,” I said.

He reached across the table to squeeze my hand. We sat quietly, just looking at each other. Finally I picked up the ninjas and waved them between us. “I should head back to Liz’s. It’s time for my badass ninja self to kick some espresso butt.”

Charlie laughed as he put cash on the table to pay our bill. As we left the restaurant, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and smiled down at me. “Remember when I said you were my favorite niece?”

“And your only niece,” I reminded him as we fell into step together.

He ruffled my hair. “You’d be my favorite even if I had a hundred nieces.”

Mom was already passed out in her bed when I got home close to eleven. Judging by the state of the kitchen, she’d had wine for dinner.

Toby slept next to me on the couch as I watched a rerun of Friends. In the middle of an episode, Mom staggered into the family room rubbing her eyes.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Almost midnight. You never called.” She stared at me glassy-eyed so I went on in the same level voice, “I had an early dinner with Charlie so I didn’t cook. But there’s still leftover meatloaf from last night in the fridge.”

“Ugh. Disgusting. I hate meatloaf.”

I glared at her. “Well, pardon me, madam chef, but it’s the best I could do. And it’s better than a crummy frozen dinner so I think you should thank me.”

She sank into the chair across from me. She was still in her work clothes. Her slacks were wrinkled and her blouse dotted with red wine stains. “Give me a break, Darcy. I’ve had a long day.”

I stared at her in disbelief. I could tell by the way her words slurred that she was still drunk, even after sleeping. “You’ve had a long day?” I asked. “What about me?”

“It’s not the same thing. You’re just a kid.”

“Not anymore I’m not. Thanks to Dad.” I paused. “And you.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t you dare blame me for this.”

My chest heaved. “I don’t blame you for Dad leaving. I don’t. But I do blame you for not being around anymore.” And for being drunk all the time, but I was too scared to say that out loud.

“I have to work, Darcy,” she whined. “I have to do whatever Pam tells me to. The money she’s paying me is the only thing keeping us going.”

I took a calming breath, because I needed her onboard with the estate sale idea. I wanted her to act like a grown-up, to be her old self, to take some of the load off my shoulders. But maybe that was too much to ask. “That’s why I called you this afternoon about selling our stuff. What do you think?”

She stared at the television for a long time, then shifted her gaze to me. “It’s too much for me, Darcy. But if you’re willing to do it, go ahead.”

Just because it was the answer I’d expected didn’t make it hurt any less. “You’ll probably have to sign the contract,” I told her. “I’m sure I’m too young.”

She closed her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Go ahead and set it up.”

I shut off the television and went to bed without saying good night.





Chapter Fifteen


October 29


The next day I called the first estate sale company on Charlie’s list. I’d worried about it all day at school and tackled it first thing when I got home.

“Family Solutions,” said a tinkling voice.

“Hi, I’m Darcy Covington. My uncle, Charlie Covington, recommended that I call you.”

“Yes?” The woman on the phone was hesitant.

I tried to lower my voice so I sounded older. “My family needs to have an estate sale.” I took a breath. “My mom will sign all the paperwork, but I’ll be coordinating it.” I tried to sound bossy, like Sal, and give her no chance to say no. “Charlie assured me that you’d be happy to work with me, with our family, but if you’d rather not, he’s given me some other names to call.”

“Oh, well, of course I can help.” The woman sounded perkier. “Since Charlie recommended you.”

“Great.” I smiled into the phone. “When can you come to our house? We’re moving at the end of the month so we need to do this sale right away.”