When I’d returned home with my sexy designer pumps that were not on my mother’s acceptable list of clothing, she’d had a full-out panic attack.
“How could you do this, Amelia? Don’t you understand who will be there? I should have never let you go to that school. It’s a terrible influence,” she said, clearly flustered.
“No, Mom, I don’t understand,” I answered bluntly.
I didn’t bother to correct her on the fact that they probably couldn’t afford to send me to a private school because of her massive clothing budget. Olivia’s parents sent her to public school to fit a certain image for her father’s political career, but I was under no illusions that my parents were doing the same.
“My school is perfectly fine,” I snapped.
I was angry. She was making a big deal out of nothing. I wanted to look grown-up for once. I was sick of looking like a porcelain doll. Look but don’t touch. I wanted my boyfriend to see me in something sexy for a change, rather than the mother-approved garments I was always in.
“You just don’t care about anything, do you?” she huffed.
“It’s just a pair of shoes, Mom.”
I stormed out the door and got ready for the evening.
I didn’t talk to my mom for the rest of the evening, even when I showed up with Olivia and Garrett. Just as I’d thought, no one gasped or fainted when I walked in, looking like a traitor in my inappropriate heels. It wasn’t like they were covered in rhinestones or glitter. They were designer, and they had cost a fortune. But in my mother’s head, she had a vision of what a sixteen-year-old should look like, and it was not this.
I’d spent the evening laughing and dancing with Garrett. It had been the first time I’d ever enjoyed being in that awful country club my parents loved so much. I hadn’t paid attention to anyone else other than my best friend and boyfriend. They’d made everything better. I’d thought I had won the battle with my mother that night, and I felt exhilarated. When I woke up the next morning and found my shoes had disappeared, I knew I hadn’t.
When I was chaperoned to every other shopping excursion from that moment on, I knew I would never win. I had been pretty sure the only reason she’d allowed me to keep Garrett around was because she’d known I would only rebel further if she tried to take him away, and she had been petrified of a scene.
“So, have you heard from him since?” Liv asked, bringing me out of my head and back to the present.
“Nope,” I answered.
He hadn’t shown up since then to help with the floors, and he hadn’t called to say if he would be returning. I thought it was safe to say he was done with me, and I didn’t blame him.
“That man is very different from the boy I once knew,” Liv said wistfully.
I didn’t say anything. I just nodded in agreement.
The more time I’d spent with him, the more evident this realization had become. This man was Garrett, but he wasn’t my Garrett, not anymore, and I couldn’t help but feel responsible. When I would look into his eyes, I could see pain, hurt, and anger. Those were emotions I’d never encountered before with the bright-eyed boy I’d left so long ago. When I’d decided to leave and never come back, I’d thought he would be better off because of it. I always pictured him happy with that carefree attitude of his. In my head, he had gotten married, and he was content. It hurt to think of it, but it was what had kept me from rushing back every day. It was the only thing that had allowed me to come back now. I’d thought that after so much time had passed, someone like him couldn’t possibly be alone.
Seeing him on that busy street in the middle of the farmers’ market, carrying the young boy on his shoulders was exactly how I’d pictured him in my head. But that wasn’t his life. After all this time, he was alone. Had I done that?
Before I had time to contemplate that, my doorbell rang. Our food had arrived.
Let our sad Saturday night begin.
I rose from the couch and gathered the money we’d pooled together off the kitchen counter. I headed for the door. Thanks to an overbearing Garrett sending over a locksmith, every door and window lock had been replaced with shiny new locks to keep the bad guys out. After flipping the new lock that had just been installed, I pulled the door open.
“Did someone order in on a Saturday night?” a feminine voice asked.
I found Leah standing on the other side, holding up two bags of food, as she sported a wry grin.
“Did you take up a new side job?” I asked, wondering why she was at my door.
“Nope, but I bet I could make a lot of tips dressed like this, huh?” she said, giving a glance at her attire.
She wasn’t kidding about the tips. She was dressed to kill. Mile-high nude heels made her already long legs look endless, and the pink dress she was wearing clung to her like a second skin. I didn’t know anyone who could pull off something like that, but she did so flawlessly.
“So, what exactly are you doing, looking like a guy’s wet dream on my doorstep?” I asked, motioning for her to come in.
She breezed past me and strutted toward the kitchen. She put the bags of food in the fridge.
Wait, what? I want to eat that.
“I ran into your delivery guy on your porch. I paid for your food. You’re welcome,” she said with a grin. “But you won’t be eating it tonight.”
“Hey, hot stuff,” Liv said, greeting Leah like they were old pals, as she came into the kitchen.
“Hey. Olivia, right?”
Liv nodded. “You can call me Liv.”
I gave Leah a look that said to get to the point. My food was currently cooling in the fridge, and I was getting cranky.
“So, you guys are seriously sitting around in your pajamas on a Saturday night?” Leah glanced down at our frumpy clothes.
I was pretty sure I could see a stain on my hoodie that had been there since college. I was so sexy.
“Yep,” we said in unison.
“That’s just sad. You are too young for this shit. Come on, let’s get you upstairs.”
She grabbed both of our hands and began dragging us up the flight of stairs.
“Wait, what are we doing?” I asked.
“We are going out. I have excuses for PJ Saturdays. It’s called two kids. You two, however, do not have any excuses. Tonight, Clare and I both have babysitters, and you two will be joining us on our night out.”
I thought about arguing, but from her determined face as she started rummaging through my closet, I didn’t think I had a choice. She was a woman on a mission.