Disgusted with myself for sounding like a prude, I stomped downstairs, feeling like fun evaporated the moment I touched it. I was so occupied with my fuming that I almost ran into Mrs. M waiting for us at the foot of the stairs, camera loaded. She wolf-whistled at me and Ashley-Leigh, who was right on my heels.
“Don’t you two girls look gorgeous!” she exclaimed, oblivious to the tension in the air.
“Thank you,” I said, not quite meeting her eyes.
“Thanks, mom!” Ashley-Leigh did a little twirl and hip bumped me into the banister. Obviously, she was over our little tiff, or else wouldn’t allow her good mood to be hampered by little ole me. She even linked her arm in mine before proceeding to march me out the door. “Let’s get goin’ while the gettin’s still good!”
“Not so fast girls. I wanna take a few pictures first.”
“Not now, Mom . . . we’re already runnin’ late.” Ashley shot me a pointed look. “’Sides, we got our phones. Let’s just take some there—that way we can post one with everybody.”
“Ashley-Leigh, it’s not every day a girl turns seventeen. Now you can spare a couple more minutes.” Ashley started to protest again, but Mrs. M cut her off. “What’s gotten into you? . . . I’ve never heard you complain about being the subject of a photo before.” She winked at me. “Remember when you two girls wanted to move to Paris to be models?” she reminisced as she posed us like mannequins.
We stiffly put an arm around each other, neither of our hearts quite into it. I did vaguely remember that was one of Ashley-Leigh’s many grand schemes. I was to go along as her manager, though I didn’t bring it up.
“Too bad you didn’t keep growin’ like Katie here.” Mrs. M snapped a couple of pictures still reminiscing about our long-forgotten plans. “You two could’ve been roomies!”
“Mom! That was like a million years ago . . . ‘sides, models’ careers are short. I’m in it for the long haul, so I’m gonna be an actress now.” She said this as matter-of-factly as ‘I’m going to be a redhead now,’ and it was as easy as a visit to the hairdresser.
The sky had turned dusky with twilight, so Mrs. M turned on the flash and blinded us with a couple of more pictures. My eyes are super-sensitive to light, so I was only able to see stars for a few seconds. Ashley-Leigh took advantage of the break, bounding out the door, cell phone already up to her ear.
Mrs. M sighed at the sight of her daughter’s sudden exit stage right and came over to place an arm around my shoulders. “You okay, Katie?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I furiously blinked back tears. “The flash seems to have got me.”
“Oh, sweetheart!” she clucked. “I know it’s been hard for you—no girl should have to go through her teenage years without her mother.” She brushed the tears from the corners of my eyes. “I want you to know that I’m here for you anytime you need me.”
I appreciated the sentiment, I truly did. It was just that she was as different from my mother as night is from day. And I didn’t want some manicured, Victoria Secret-wearing mom who wanted to be my best friend. I wanted my real mother like I wanted to breathe air, after holding my breath for as long as I could. I dubiously eyed the cleavage I was being smooshed into as she rocked me back and forth. I was clearing my throat, unsure how to extricate myself gracefully, when a sharp honk intervened on my behalf.
At least the girl had good timing.
“Mom! Cut the sentimental crap—we’re missin’ all the fun!” Ashley-Leigh called from a slit in the window.
Mrs. M and I chuckled together gently at her daughter’s expense and proceeded to the car. “Just a minute.” I broke away. “I just remembered I brought some heirloom tomatoes for y’all. I’’ll just go get them.”
Another sharp honk hit my back as I hustled to the hatchback, followed by the mechanical buzz of a window going down. “Katie, just ride with mom. I’m goin’ on to get a table for everyone,” she announced, backing out of the driveway before squealing down the street.
“Okay . . .” I trailed off with a half wave.
Mrs. M came up and put her arm around me again, and I didn’t mind so much now. “She’s just bein’ an impatient teenager. Don’t pay any attention to her—not every teenager is as mature as you.”
“That’s alright. I don’t mind. I’m sorry I was late. Daddy—” What could I say?
“I know, honey. I know.” She accepted the grocery sack of tomatoes from me and peered inside. “Thanks, sweetie. These will be just super in our salads. I always did envy Lara her green thumb—looks like she passed the gene onto you.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling the kind of pleased that glowed skin.
“You really do remind me so much of her.”
I couldn’t answer right away because my throat ached with longing. “We’d better get goin’ before Ashley-Leigh disowns us both,” I finally said, making a stab at humor.
“Yes! And enough of this sentimental crap—let’s have fun, party, and get down tonight!” Mrs. M danced off to her suburban with her mini Coach bag and sparkly key chain, and I tromped after her, feeling distinctly like a fish out of water.
6
ALL THE COOL KIDS
Radio blaring, we rolled up into what was considered the hippest restaurant in town, Chapa’s Sports Grill. I couldn’t help compare it to Norma’s crowd. The cars here were . . . well, mostly cars and not semi-trucks for one. The trucks that were here were newish and freshly washed. The lot was packed with the well-heeled citizens of Clovis out in their Saturday-night-best—casual with mall name brands flashing. Recognizing several kids from school, I cringed. I’d been so preoccupied with thoughts of my mother that I totally forgot what I was wearing for half a second. And now it was time to get out.
“We’re here!” Mrs. M trilled, waving at familiar faces coming to-and-fro.
“We are,” I confirmed, also giving a half-wave to one of Ashley-Leigh’s friends. My stomach clenched when I saw her do a double-take.
Mrs. M’s door opened, and the ping, ping, ping of the car’s electrical system signaled it was time for me to get out. Ready or not here I come . . . I heaved myself against the door with unnecessary force and almost fell onto the asphalt.
“Oh, honey! Are you all right?” Mrs. M click-clacked over to assist me, but I’d only hurt my pride. I was being uncharacteristically clumsy—a sure sign of nerves. I needed to get a grip. This was perfectly normal attire, I told myself. No one’s even going to notice you.
“I’m fine.” I gave Mrs. M a weak smile and gave up on my fight against fidgeting to tug on the back of my shorts.
She smiled warmly. “You look beautiful, darling.”
“Thanks,” I replied doubtfully. “So do you.”
She beamed in response, doing a little twirl. “Katie Lee, I fully expect to see more of you from now on.”
“Everyone’s gonna fully see a lot more of me tonight!” I muttered.
Mrs. M laughed and put an arm around my waist. “Katie, you’re only seventeen one time. I highly suggest you try to enjoy yourself tonight . . . and if anyone can pull this look off my dear, it’s you.”