How (Not) to Fall in Love(46)

“Well, fortunately the decision was put to the board, and J.J. was outvoted.” I smiled at her, but she just shook her head.

“Sometimes you remind me a lot of your father.”

“Really?”

She nodded as she bit into a taco.

This was the first conversation in a long time where she was mostly sober. I decided to take advantage of it. “Mom?” She watched me, eyebrows raised expectantly, and I went on. “I’ve been thinking about Dad. About how at first I couldn’t believe he just…just left us. But I’ve been remembering stuff. Like over the summer when he missed an appearance in Salt Lake. Remember that?”

Mom put down her taco. She nodded, wiping her hands on her napkin. “He said he had a really bad stomach bug.”

“But I read some stuff online, from over the summer. People who went to his shows said he didn’t seem like himself.” Mom didn’t say anything so I pressed on. “And he’d been sleeping a lot. There were some days he didn’t get out of bed until dinner time.”

He’d told us he was just exhausted from work and travel, but it had been completely unlike him. Dad was invincible, so I’d taken his word that he was okay, but I’d been thinking about all of this when I lay awake at night, trying to put the pieces together.

“I should have done something,” Mom said, her voice barely a whisper. “Called his doctor. Asked J.J. for help. But I wanted to believe him when he said he was just tired from working too much.”

We sat in silence, focusing on the tuneless girl on TV. It hadn’t occurred to me that Mom might be feeling as guilty as I did about missing the clues. But I couldn’t shut down. I’d learned that about myself. I was learning that I could make things happen. People listened to me. They helped when I asked them to, like Charlie and Lucas. They even changed their minds, like today at the board meeting.

“The estate sale lady is coming tomorrow at four,” I reminded Mom. “Can you be here?”

Mom ran a hand across her eyes. “I don’t think so. I’m working on a special project for Pam. On the computer.” Mom lowered her eyes. “I get the feeling she doesn’t want me meeting with clients right now. I can’t blame her.” She raised her eyes, pooled with tears.

“Oh, Mom.” I pushed aside my TV tray and scooted closer to her on the couch. I held her hand. “Pam’s an evil bitch. So is her daughter Chloe.”

Mom laughed. “Maybe so, but she’s paying me right now so I have to do what she asks.”

I sighed. “Can’t you find a better job, Mom? Someplace where you’re not treated like a slave?”

Mom leaned against me. “It’s been so long since I’ve worked, Darcy. I don’t have many marketable skills.”

“You have lots of skills, Mom. You just can’t recognize them right now.”

She laughed. “You’re my daughter so you have to say that.” She squeezed my hand. “Maybe after we get moved I’ll look for something else.”

I wanted to believe her. “I almost forgot,” I said, anxious to change the subject. “I’m going to look at apartments soon with Lucas. Do you want to come with us?”

Lucas had texted me during school to say he’d found several places that fit our criteria. He’d also sent me a photo of a Toy Story salt and pepper shaker set: Woody and Buzz Lightyear. “Yes or no?” he’d texted.

“Yes,” I’d replied, grinning at my phone until Sal kicked my foot so I didn’t get busted texting in class.

Mom shook her head. “I’m doing open houses the next few Saturdays.”

“I thought you said Pam didn’t want you meeting potential clients.”

“These are foreclosures. I don’t think she cares who sees me there.”

So it would just be Lucas and me. Together. I bit my lip. No big deal. He was helping me as a friend. Sal’s skeptical face loomed in my mind, but I shook my head to get rid of the image. I didn’t have time for wishful daydreams. We had to get ready for the estate sale, pack, find a place, and move. Plus school, which I wasn’t focusing much energy on. At all.

The guidance counselor had called me into her office a few days ago to tell me she’d met with my teachers and because of my “situation” I was being given a reduced workload for now. That was a relief, but I didn’t care about my grades as long as I passed. I knew my Ivy League dreams were dust, but I didn’t want to give up on the idea of college completely.

We watched the rest of American Idol, and Mom even laughed out loud a few times at some of the contestants. Reality television had its uses.



Sal called me just as Toby and I were drifting off to sleep.

“What’s up?” I mumbled.

“Just checking on you. How’s everything going?”

I expelled a sigh of relief. “Better, believe it or not. We’ve got some extra time to move.”

“That’s great. How’d that happen?”

I smiled into the phone. “I asked. And I received.”

She was silent for a few moments. “That’s awesome, Darcy. Good for you.”

“Thanks.” Pride washed over me again, a pinprick of daylight in my darkened state of mind. “So anyway, I’m going to be busy getting everything ready. I hope you aren’t calling to invite me to a party, ’cause you know I can’t come.”