How (Not) to Fall in Love(60)

Pickles bounced into the kitchen. “Charlie says there’s more pie! A chocolate one. Daddy says I can have a piece.” She looked at her brother with pleading eyes. “Where is it?”

Lucas laughed as he ruffled her hair. “In the fridge.”

I yanked open the refrigerator to retrieve the pie box, grateful for the distraction.

“Let’s take it to the dining room, Pickles,” I said, sidestepping around Lucas. “I’m sure other people will want some, too.”

Mom yawned and stretched as we drove home. “That was wonderful, Darcy. Thank you for dragging me out.”

“They’re awesome people.”

“They are,” she agreed. “So…” She hesitated. “You and Lucas? Is there something going on I should know about?”

I squeezed the steering wheel. “We’re friends. That’s all.” For now.

“Hmm,” she said. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

“What do you mean?” Had my mom seen the way he looked at me? The way I looked at him?

She chuckled softly. “Nothing.” She patted my knee. “I owe you an apology. Earlier today you said we had each other to be thankful for. I said some things that weren’t kind. Or true.”

I glanced at her and then looked back at the road.

“Darcy.” Mom’s voice was soft. “You’ve grown up so fast…with all that’s happened. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Your dad would be, too.” She swallowed. “He will be, I mean. When he comes home.”

“I wonder what he’s doing tonight,” I said.

She shifted in her seat. “I wonder, too.” Her hand reached for mine and I took it, leaving one hand on the wheel.

We drove the rest of the way hands gripped together, each of us sending wishes and hopes to Dad, wherever he was.





Chapter Twenty-Three


November 29


Lucas called me on Saturday morning as I was getting dressed to go apartment-hunting with him. I’d been staring in my closet, debating what to wear. Boring sweatshirt and ratty jeans because we were just friends and I didn’t care how I looked? Or cute sweater and nice jeans because I did care? Especially after what he’d said at Thanksgiving about missing me. Missing us.

It felt like something had shifted again that night, and it wasn’t just my ever-hopeful imagination or all the romances I’d been reading. Which reminded me, Charlie still hadn’t found the stack of regencies I’d set aside in his store, and I was desperate for new books to read. I could ask Lucas if he’d seen them, but that was too embarrassing.

“So,” he said on the phone. “I was thinking it’d be easier if I picked you up. That way you don’t have to take the bus down here to meet me.”

My heart sped up. Pick me up? Like a date?

“But it’s out of your way. Aren’t the apartments down by Charlie’s store?”

There was a moment of silence. “Yeah. But still. It’s not that far. And I was thinking I could check out your truck like I suggested before.”

“Did Charlie put you up to this?” I demanded.

His laughter sent a shiver down my neck. “No. I thought of it all by myself. Imagine that.”

I smiled into the phone. “Well, in that case you can pick me up. Do you need my address?”

“I remember where you live. I’ll see you in an hour.”

I compromised and went with the cute sweater and ratty jeans. And a tiny bit of mascara. And lip gloss. And earrings.

While I waited for Lucas to arrive, I stared at my map. Ingram, Texas. Rolla, Missouri. Alliance, Nebraska. Santa Fe, New Mexico. Laguna Beach, California. There weren’t any henges in Laguna Beach. Dad’s postcard had been of a sunset over the ocean. Dad loved the ocean. Maybe he’d just headed west after leaving Santa Fe.

The doorbell startled Toby awake and he tore down the stairs, barking like mad. I stopped at the mirror over my dresser. No, I was nothing like Heather. But that didn’t matter. Like Sal said, I was on fire. Lit from the inside.

“Get your butt in gear,” I told my reflection. I ran a brush through my hair one last time, then hurried down the stairs to calm Toby.

“Hey,” said Lucas when I opened the door, as relaxed as if he came over every day. Toby became a wriggling ball of pathetic dog suck-up-ness. Lucas laughed and bent to play with him.

“God, my dog is a useless protector. What if you were a crazy serial killer?”

“Then I wouldn’t have rung the doorbell.” He looked up and grinned at me.

“Good point. Let me just grab my bag.” I turned away so he wouldn’t see me blushing. My body was so over this “just friends” delusion.

“Hold on,” Lucas said. “What about your truck?”

Oh yeah, that. I turned back to him. “Do you really have time for that?”

“Got the whole day off. Charlie was cool with it since I’m helping you.”

“So helping me is a way for you to suck up to your boss, is that it?”

He rolled his eyes. “You figured it out. My ultimate evil plan is to rule the empire of Broadway. First, the Second Hand Story. Then Liz’s store. Then Homeless Harry and I are taking over Inkheart. Harry’s got wicked ink skills.”