Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1)
Page 93
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Patrick and I went shopping for a present for his mom. We had already looked all over the mall and couldn’t find anything. This time, we were going to check out kitchen and food related stores since she loved cooking.
The best place we went to was The Gourmet Kitchen. They had all sorts of kitchen gadgets, electrics and specialty food. They even had cooking classes. This place was like a hardware store for cooks.
We each found something for his mom there. Separate gifts that went together. He signed her up for an Asian cooking class because she had kept talking about how she wanted to learn it. I didn’t really think of myself as Asian, even though I looked like it. I was brought up on Asian food and knew what sauces and seasonings she would need to replicate the recipes she’d learn. So, I made a gift basket with that stuff.
“Did you find out about going to Disneyland yet?” He asked as we headed back to my house. The entire crew was going to go next week. I had never been to Disneyland and he had told me that the next time they went, I was going with them. That was before I was really part of the crew.
“I didn’t ask yet. They just got home yesterday, so I didn’t want to bring it up. I’ll ask tonight.” I was really nervous to ask because we’d leave around 6:00 am and get back probably around 2:00am.
“You think they’d say ‘no’?” He sounded disappointed at the thought.
I shrugged my shoulders, “Who knows…” I mimicked my mom’s patronizing tone. “You never know what kind of trouble I can get myself in at Disneyland.”
“Come on. You can’t seriously think they’d think that.”
I stared at him. “These are my parents we’re talking about. What do you think?”
“Well, okay.” He conceded. “But, you’ll be with me and the crew. It’s not like you’re going alone. Not that I see you getting into ‘trouble’ at Disneyland even if you went by yourself.”
I thought about what they would say. “Would you mind being there when I asked? It might help my chances.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He grinned. “Whatever will help.”
Of course, this could all backfire on me. My mom could accuse me of putting her on the spot. Which I was doing. But at least she’d be more likely to let me go—after yelling at me for a while.