Gabby took a moment to study Mule. His face was set in its usual easygoing expression. But there was something in his tone—a barb or jagged edge—that told her to be careful.
“I don’t think Prentiss is smart enough to have ulterior motives,” she said, with total conviction. “Frankly, I’m not sure he’s evolved past the Homo habilis stage.”
Mule seemed to relax into his chair a bit more. “Ah. Maybe he’s studying spear making at community college.”
“Maybe.” Gabby laughed, but it felt forced and phony, powered more by nerves than delight.
She didn’t like this. She didn’t want to be uneasy around Mule. She didn’t want to be scared of accidentally staring at his crotch or feel the need to protect his feelings by disparaging Prentiss. More to the point, she didn’t want to be so very much aware that he was a guy.
Because guys couldn’t be trusted.
“How long has she been up there?” Daphne stood looking out the front window, biting her nails in loud, rhythmic chomps.
“I don’t know. Maybe … forty minutes?”
“What could they be talking about?”
“Beats me.” Gabby tried to look and sound uninterested, but in truth she couldn’t stop wondering why her mom was meeting with the Applewhites in their showy chateau. They’d found her note on the kitchen table when they arrived home from school, but it didn’t provide any details. Had she been summoned? Had she set it up? Maybe Prentiss had lost his license and they needed Gabby and her mom to become his private chauffeurs.
“I hope we’re not in trouble,” Daphne said. “Do you think they saw me accidentally step on those flowers the other day?”
“Not unless they have infrared vision. It was after dark.”
“Maybe they want to invite us over to swim. Or maybe they want us to move into the big house!”
Gabby made a face. “Why the hell would they suggest something like that?”
“I don’t know.” Daphne shrugged. “Maybe they always wanted daughters or something.”
“That would be creepy.” Gabby went back to pretending to read her economics textbook.
“Here she comes!”
Gabby couldn’t help tossing her book onto the coffee table and rushing to stand next to her sister.
Mrs. Rivera stopped in her tracks when she found her daughters standing just inside the front door. Gabby scrutinized her expression but couldn’t glean anything from it. No smile, but no evidence of crying or a heated argument, either. Just the usual stress fissures. And a little extra powder and lipstick, as if she’d freshened up before meeting their landlord and landlady.
“Well?” Daphne asked, her whole body pitched forward with anticipation.
Gabby was torn between yelling at her sister to give their mom some space and bouncing along beside her demanding to know what was up.
Her mom slowly, infuriatingly, took off her sweater, hung it on a wooden peg next to the door, and then sank down into the nearest chair. “Well, I have good news and bad news.”
“Bad news first,” Daphne urged.
“No, let me start with the good news and continue from there.”
“That means the bad news is really bad,” Daphne whispered to Gabby.
“Be quiet,” Gabby muttered, but secretly she agreed.
“Are we in trouble?” Daphne asked, chewing her left thumbnail.
“No, no. Now please listen. As it turns out”—Mrs. Rivera paused and a soft smile stole across her face—“I’m getting a promotion at work.”
“Mom!” Daphne squealed. “That’s awesome!”
“Does it mean more money?” Gabby asked.
“Thank you, dear,” her mom said. “And yes, it’s a little more money. Plus an office of my own. But …” She bit her lip and glanced at each of them.
“We have to move?” Gabby said. That would be so unfair. They’d only just settled in.
“No, we don’t have to move,” Mrs. Rivera replied. “But I have to go away for some training. This Wednesday, in fact. They’re flying me out to Atlanta, and I’ll have to stay there for three and a half weeks.”
“But … what about us?” Daphne asked.
“You’ll be on your own. Gabby is old enough to watch out for you guys, and the Applewhites said they would be glad to help if there are any problems. Of course, I’ll be in touch by phone as often as I can. And it’s only for a few weeks.” Three faint grooves appeared in Mrs. Rivera’s forehead and each hand took turns gripping the other.
“It’ll be fine,” Gabby said. She reached over and squeezed her mother’s arm. “I’m so proud of you for getting that promotion. You deserve it.”
Mrs. Rivera smiled and one of the worry lines disappeared. The grin also seemed to brighten her face and add sparkle to her wide green eyes. Gabby hadn’t seen her look so young and pretty—and happy—in a long time. “Thanks,” she said. “I knew I’d lost out on that one job to Rick, but then they told me I’d gotten this one. I didn’t even know about the opening.”
“Wait a minute.” Daphne looked even more concerned than she had before she heard the news. “Does this mean Gabby gets to boss me around for almost a month?”
The crease reappeared in her mom’s brow. “Not exactly …,” she began.
“What’s wrong with you?” Gabby said to Daphne. “Why can’t you be happy for Mom? You should be congratulating her, not complaining.”
Daphne gestured toward her. “This is what I mean. She’s going to do this the whole time. Can’t Dad come stay with us?”
“That’s not possible.” Her mom’s gaze lowered to her lap. “Not with his job, his situation.”
“But—”
“Sweetie, try to understand. It’s the only way.” Mrs. Rivera reached out and grabbed Daphne’s extended hand. “I’m going to be depending on you, too. Not just Gabby. She can’t watch you all day and night, you know. So I’m going to need you to be a little more responsible and independent. Can you do that for me?”
Gabby watched her sister’s expression ease into a smile. She knew exactly what Daphne was thinking: more time with her latest boy obsession, less nagging from Mom. Gabby wondered if she should say something, but her mom already had so much on her mind. Besides, she’d be the one in charge. She’d handle it.
“Don’t worry. I can do that,” Daphne said. She stepped forward and hugged her mom around the neck. “And I am really proud of you.”
“Thanks, baby. Now what do you say we all go out to dinner and celebrate?”
“You mean … at a restaurant?” Daphne asked.
Mrs. Rivera laughed. “Yes.”
“We’ve got that coupon for Whataburger,” Gabby said, heading for the drawer in the kitchen where they kept loose papers.
“No. No coupons. No fast food. Let’s go to the Rushing Water Inn.”
Daphne sucked in her breath. “Really?”
“Sure, why not?” Mrs. Rivera said.
“Oh, thank you!” Daphne hugged their mom again and then trotted off toward the bedroom. “I’m going to change into something swanky!”
“Mom, are you sure?” Gabby asked once Daphne was out of earshot. “That place is so expensive.”
Her mom held up both hands in a “stop” gesture. “I don’t care. We have lots to celebrate. New house. New job. I think we deserve to spoil ourselves at least one night, right?”
“I guess,” Gabby replied. She didn’t like this shifting of positions. Daphne promising to be responsible. Mom offering to blow a ton of money on a fancy meal. It was disturbing.
“Well? Get to it,” her mom said. “Like Daff said, go get swanky!”
Her mom looked so happy, so relaxed. Gabby knew she should be ecstatic for her. For all of them. So why was she so edgy? Why did all these good things feel … wrong?
“Oh, my god. I’m so full.” Daphne patted her stomach as if Luke could somehow see her over the phone. “You won’t believe where we ate dinner tonight. The Rushing Water Inn!”
“What’s that?”
“The best restaurant in town.”
Daphne lifted one of Gabby’s T-shirts off the pile and checked it for stains as well as she could with one hand. She had offered to sort the laundry to prove to her mom that they’d be fine without her for a few weeks. It seemed like an easier chore than doing the dishes. Plus, the utility room in their new house was nice and secluded—a cramped little room off the kitchen with only one tiny window. When the dishwasher was running it muffled all noise, so there was little danger of her conversations being overheard.
“It’s really awesome,” she said, shoving the shirt into the washer. “I ordered something French-sounding. Chicken breast with this cheesy stuff inside it.”
“Cordon bleu?”
“Yeah, that’s it!” Daphne said. “It’s nice. You should go there sometime.” Like, for prom, she added mentally. With me.
“Yeah, I should.”
She waited, hoping he would use this as a chance to finally ask her, but he said nothing further. Just made a little combination humming-sighing sound, as if he were stretching.
This was getting frustrating. Sure, prom was still three weeks away, but so many people had already been asked. All they had left to do was brag and daydream. She at least had the dress, and was therefore slightly ahead of the game, and she was doing her best to be patient, but she still wished a fairy godmother would suddenly materialize atop the dryer and wave her magic wand, making Luke her official date.
In fairy tales, the heroine always had someone to help her, like a pixie or a band of dwarves or a flock of animated bluebirds. But who did Daphne have? Who was on her side? Definitely not Mom or Gabby or anyone on the cheer squad. This meant she had to figure things out herself. Only solving problems was more her sister’s forte; Daphne was better at wishing them away.
“So what are you doing this weekend?” she asked as she reached into the hamper and pulled out another blouse. It was one of her mom’s, beige with a light yellow floral design. Should it go with the lights or darks? It was medium in color and weight. And the label had faded so much she couldn’t tell what the manufacturer recommended.
“I don’t know.…” Luke’s voice trailed off, as if he were considering something.
Daphne shoved the blouse into the washer and waited. Perhaps if he didn’t want to take this chance to ask her to prom, he’d at least ask her out somewhere—this time excluding Walt and Todd.
“Oh, wait. There is something going on,” Luke said. “I heard about a big party Saturday night.”
Oh, no! So he knew about Tracy’s party. Daphne’s heart sped up so suddenly, the pile of clothes in front of her started to shimmer. She twisted her thumbnail between her teeth, envisioning Lynette in one of her slutty party dresses, targeting Luke like a blond heat-seeking missile.
“They said it was going to be pretty cool. Are you going?” he asked.
“Um, I’m not sure I can. Are you?”
“Yeah, I promised the guys I’d go. I hope you’ll be there. I hardly get to see you. It would be nice to … hang out.” His tone turned soft and rumbly. Almost like a purr.
Daphne leaned against the wall of the laundry room and closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his words ooze all over her. Think, Daphne, think. There had to be some way she could get out of the house without her sister knowing. But the front door squeaked, and Gabby was such a light sleeper, despite the snoring.
Opening her eyes, Daphne suddenly beheld the window … small but not too tiny to fit through, and perfectly situated above the sturdy dryer.
Could she?
No. She couldn’t. Even with Mom gone, Gabby would be watching her like a hawk. No … a vulture. Yeah. A grumpy, killjoy vulture. And if she waited until Gabby went to sleep, the party would be almost over. Plus, even if she managed to sneak out of the house, what then? She couldn’t exactly walk the ten miles to Tracy’s house.
Her eyes clouded and her nose got that itchy feeling that always preceded a good cry. If only she had the freedom to come and go as she wanted—to attend keg parties and go on unchaperoned trips to the beach. Some kids had it so easy. Meanwhile, she was stuck at home with a cruel older sister, doing drudge work, just like Cinderella.
It was Fate testing her again, seeing whether she could be the noble heroine. If she did something stupid, she could blow all her chances of going out with Luke. She had to remember that.
“I really want to see you, too,” she said. “But we can be patient, right? And what about Sunday? Maybe, after you’ve slept late, we could meet up and bowl another game or two. You could tell me all about the party. And maybe this time it could just be you and me? You know … so I can give you pointers?” She bit her lip and shut her eyes again, wallowing in her longing for him, concentrating on each wrenching beat of her heart and the faint shushing sounds of the telephone connection.
“Sure. That sounds great,” he said.
He sounded pleased, even excited. Daphne took comfort in it.
“Well, I gotta run. See you later, Daffodil.”
“Bye.”
Daffodil! Daphne shut off the phone, hugged it to her chest, and lay back against the dirty laundry. First he gave her a penny, and now a nickname? It was the best reassurance she could have asked for. (Well … second to an invitation to prom.) But still, it was a sign of closeness. Of love. It made her feel hopeful and strong enough to endure. Like a princess in a tower or a genie in a bottle.
Or a flower standing straight and tall in a storm.
The springs in the old sofa let out their familiar squeaks as Gabby settled onto the cushion beside her mother and handed her a cup of coffee.
Her mom’s flight left Houston at ten-thirty, which meant she had to leave Barton at six to check in at the airport two hours early. Luckily, the Sandbornes made occasional trips to Houston during the week for salon supplies and had offered to give her a lift. That way there was no need to pay for parking, and Gabby could use the car during her mother’s absence.
Of course Daffy couldn’t bother to get out of bed long enough to kiss her mother goodbye. Gabby wasn’t surprised, and she was kind of glad to have her mom to herself, but it still irritated her that Daphne had, once again, gotten away with being totally selfish.
Gabby wondered why she’d bothered to brew up the Colombian Supremo, since her mom certainly didn’t seem to need caffeine. Mrs. Rivera kept checking her watch, rummaging through her bag, and occasionally standing to gaze out the front window at the driveway.
“Do you have that list of phone numbers I gave you?”
“Yes, it’s on the bulletin board,” Gabby said, pointing to the wall in back of them.
“And you have the number for the Applewhites on your cell?”
“I have it,” she said. She didn’t, actually, but she did have Prentiss’s pretentious business card in her purse. So it wasn’t a total lie.
“And you put all that money in a safe place?”
“Yes. I told you. Part of it is in the empty tea tin and the rest is hidden in the bedroom—your bedroom. I figure I’ll sleep in there while you’re gone.”
Her mom’s nods slowed and stopped. Suddenly her fingers flew to her forehead. “Oh, honey, maybe I shouldn’t go. I’m so worried that this is a mistake.”
“Why? We’re old enough to take care of ourselves for a little while.”
“Yes, I know. But I can’t help feeling … negligent.”
Gabby gave her a shoulder bump. “Hey. Think of it as a vacation from us. You’ve never had that before, and you deserve it. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”
“I’m already crazy about you girls.” Her mom looked at her tenderly.
“Yeah, but we’re not that fond of you.” Gabby laughed as her mom’s adoring smile disappeared, replaced by a look of indignation. “Kidding!”
Right at that moment, a car honked. Mrs. Rivera leaped to her feet.
“That’s them,” she said, her eyes wide and frantic.
“You remembered to pack your cell phone charger, right?” Gabby asked, handing her mother the tweedy blue garment bag.
“Yes.”
“Good. And your neck pillow?”
Mrs. Rivera nodded.
Gabby grabbed the rolling suitcase and followed her to the door. “Did you get a refill on your headache medicine?”
“Right here.” She patted her purse.
Gabby smiled. “Now, remember … if a handsome guy asks you for your room key …”
“I know, I know. Ask him for his bank statement, three references, and a clean bill of health from his doctor.”
“Good girl.”
Her mom’s chuckles petered out. “You two really will be okay, right?”
“We really will be.”
The horn sounded again. Mrs. Rivera threw her arms around Gabby and squeezed her tightly. “Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it, but … good luck.”
Gabby kissed her mom and passed her the handle to the suitcase. Then she followed her outside and stood on the porch waving and watching until the Sandbornes’ minivan turned out of the drive and disappeared into the twilight.
She stepped to the edge of the porch and wrapped her arms around one of the posts, feeling suddenly small under the vast, colorless sky. There was something eerie about the predawn stillness. The world didn’t seem to be sleeping so much as pointedly ignoring her. It reminded her of when she was really young and her parents would go out, leaving her and Daphne in the care of a babysitter—usually old Mrs. Palacky from next door, who, for some reason, would always bring over two bananas, one for each of the girls, and liked to teach them Czech drinking songs. Even at that age Gabby knew her mom and dad deserved to go out and have fun, but it still unsettled her. She couldn’t help wondering what would happen if something went wrong and they never came back, and she couldn’t fall asleep until she heard their car’s tires crunching up the driveway.
Such fear made a lot of sense in an eight-year-old, but not in an eighteen-year-old. Gabby knew she should quit worrying and be excited for her mom. But then … in a way, that vague, childlike dread had come true. There really had come a day when her dad packed up his car and left, never returning—at least, not to stay.
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