A Mother's Homecoming(66)
Faith laughed. “I know. Dad’s head would explode. Morgan has this insanely convoluted plan for how to get the dress she really wants to wear—which her Mom won’t let her—into her locker at school so that she can slip away from the gymnasium during the dance and change. Tasha and I keep telling her it won’t work. The side hallways are locked during special events so no one can sneak off and get in trouble.”
Pam paused, wondering how much she could safely interfere without alienating Faith. “You and Morgan are pretty good friends?”
Faith nodded promptly. “She was the first person who was nice to me when Dad and I moved here. And she totally knows what it’s like to deal with divorce, not that my problems were as bad as hers. I was never that close to Jenna. Plus, even during the divorce, Jenna and Dad didn’t scream at each other. You should hear Morgan’s parents.”
Pam winced, feeling unwanted sympathy for the Bad Seed. “My mom screamed all the time when I was a kid. That can be rough.”
“Who was your best friend?” Faith wanted to know. “Ms. Lewin?”
Much as Pam liked Dawn, then and now, Pam had never wanted to burden her with the realities of life at the Wilson house. Dawn had spent the night only once, and had watched with wide-eyed shock as Mae staggered drunkenly down the hallway with the cordless phone, arguing loudly with some guy she’d been seeing.
“Actually,” Pam said, “I’d have to say your dad was my best friend. He’s a great guy. Do me a favor? Listen to him. Sometimes it will seem like more fun, or at least cooler, to do what Morgan or someone else tells you to do. But if your father tells you it’s a bad idea or your heart tells you it’s a bad idea, walk away. Especially if alcohol is involved.”
Faith regarded her seriously. “Is that why you used to drink too much, because some friends talked you into it?”
“I drank for a lot of reasons, none of them good. You’re genetically predisposed, so you may need to be even more careful than your friends. And one or two really hateful jerks might even tease you, but that’s preferable to stumbling and breaking your arm. Or wrapping your car around a tree. Got it?”
Faith nodded. “Got it.”
“All right, enough with the after school special. Let’s find you a killer dress.”
MIMOSA WAS ABUZZ with special events related to the homecoming. As far as Pam could tell, the week was crazy busy for everyone. Business at the salon never let up. Faith didn’t have time to practice guitar chords because she was studying for the school year’s first round of major exams. Nick’s construction crews doubled productivity now that they were working in humane temperatures. And Julia took two private orders for jewelry. One was for Faith, who had insisted on paying for a great necklace to go with her dress for the dance. The other order was a bit more substantial—a woman getting ready to take a cruise with her five sisters had commissioned a set of jewelry for each sister, all of similar design but with slightly different colors and stones.
For the first half of the week, Pam enjoyed the whirl of people and activity, but by Friday, she was frazzled. She was in the salon’s laundry room, adding detergent to a load and counting the hours until the end of her shift, when Beth called her to the front.
“Pam, you’ve got a delivery from a florist up here.”
Had Nick sent her flowers again? She wracked her mind, trying to figure out what the occasion was. It was possible he just wanted to say thanks for her help with Faith’s dress, but they’d brought that home days ago. He’d fussed over his daughter, who looked too much like “an elegant young woman—can’t you go in pigtails and overalls instead?” But it was easy to tell he approved of their choice.
Curious, Pam quickly set the dials on the washer and headed to the front desk. Once she saw the long box, she started laughing and couldn’t stop. “Seriously?” she asked no one in particular. “He sent me a homecoming mum?”
It was tradition at the high school for guys to get their girlfriends one of these huge adornments. At the top, a fluffy white mum was centered in ribbons of blue and gold, the high school’s colors. From there, long blue and gold ribbons trailed nearly to the floor, many with letters or decals on them. The sparkling foil letters on one of her ribbons spelled out Mimosa High; another read NS and PJW. Among the ribbons were chains of gold plastic microphones and guitars, as well as gold football helmets. It was incredibly gaudy.
Dawn stopped short when she saw it, wrinkling her nose uncertainly. “That is something, isn’t it? I can’t tell if he’s crazy about you or trying to punish you.”