I gasp loudly. “Are you sure?”
“Why not? I think it’d be a blast to bring you. And who knows? You might get lucky and walk away with a job.”
I throw my arms around Colin’s neck and thank him effusively for his generosity, yet again, and Colin laughs into my hair.
“This isn’t me being generous, Ames. I’m already going to the party. All I’m doing is bringing you along.”
When we disengage from our hug, I take a sip of water, trying to calm down, but my arm is shaking disastrously. So much so, I’d literally be spilling everywhere if my glass had more water in it. “Whose birthday is it?” I ask, my voice quavering.
“Laila Fitzgerald. Her boyfriend is throwing the party at their place in Malibu.”
I slam my glass down and shriek, much too loudly for the indoor setting, and my mother throws me a harsh glare from the far end of the table. Ignoring my mother’s daggers, I lean into Colin and whisper-shout, “I love Laila Fitzgerald! She’s so gorgeous and talented!”
“Yeah, she’s a sweetheart. Lots of people from River Records and Sing Your Heart Out will be at the party, so I think the opportunities for you to network will be through the roof.”
I babble incoherently about my excitement, and then ask Colin a thousand questions. Until all of a sudden, I realize people have been getting up from the table and grabbing their purses and coats.
“Looks like the party’s shutting down,” I say.
“Yeah, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At my mom’s place tonight,” Colin says. “I’ll probably crash in Dax’s suite at the hotel tomorrow after the wedding reception.”
“Hey, I’m staying at the hotel tomorrow night, too!”
“Awesome. I’m sure we’ll party in Dax’s suite after the reception. Come party with us.”
“I will!” I clutch my heart, feeling like it’s in danger of physically exploding and splattering all over Colin and the restaurant walls. I jerk to standing, too excited to sit a second longer, and shout, “I’ll drive you to your mom’s house!”
Colin chuckles at my exuberance. “Are you sure? I’m fine taking an Uber.”
“Don’t be silly. Your suitcase is still in my car, remember? And I’d love to say hi to your mom, if she’s still awake.”
“Cool. Thanks.” Colin stands and grabs his coat. “I’m sure my mom will be thrilled to see you again.”
We say our goodbyes to everyone remaining in the restaurant, including blecchy Luke, who seems shocked and mildly offended when he finds out I’m driving Colin to his mom’s house. Snicker. And then, off Colin and I go, out the door of the restaurant and into the crisp Seattle night, to head to our childhood stomping grounds. Only this time, as adults.
Five
Colin
“And then,” Amy gushes, “Colin invited me to tag along to a birthday party for Laila Fitzgerald!”
We’re sitting across from my mom and stepdad in their living room, and Amy is currently regaling them with all her exciting news. And as Amy talks, it’s clear my mother is every bit as enamored with her as she always used to be when Amy lived next door.
“Is Laila Fitzgerald the sassy blonde on Sing Your Heart Out?” my mom asks. And when Amy confirms that’s the one, the two women chat enthusiastically about Laila for a few minutes, before Amy shifts the topic of conversation to me. Specifically, how “generous and thoughtful” I am for arranging such incredible opportunities for her.
“I think that has more to do with you, Amy,” my mother replies, “than Colin’s general character.”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Oh, come on. You’ve always had a huge soft spot for Amy, ever since she was a baby.”
What the fuck? Shocked, I glower at my mother, telepathically commanding her to shut the fuck up now, please. But Mom quickly returns her attention to Amy and totally ignores my death stare.
Mom says to Amy, “When your parents brought you home from the hospital after having you, they came over here to fetch Logan, because he’d stayed overnight with us. And the second Colin saw you, all wrapped up like a little burrito, he asked to hold you. And you know what Colin said when he looked down into your sweet, scrunched-up little face in his lap?”
“Mom.” I’ve never heard this story before, but I can tell from my mother’s facial expression, it’s going to embarrass the hell out of me.
Mom bats her eyelashes at Amy. “Colin looked down at you and said, ‘I love you, baby.’”
“Mom!” I shout. But it’s too late. My diabolical mother is a runaway train.
“And then, after your family left, Colin begged me to give him a baby of his own—one just like you!”
“Mom, stop.”
“And I told him, ‘No, sweetie, you were an ‘oops’ baby. I’m all done.” Mom guffaws while I shoot her profile daggers. “And you know what Colin did then?” Mom hoots with laughter. “He burst into big old soggy tears!”
While Amy joins my mother in laughing, I mutter, “Probably because you’d just told me I was an accident.”
“And from that day forward,” Mom says brightly, “from that first time Colin saw you and fell in love with your sweet little face—”
“Mom!”
“He always looked out for you. Remember that time you had that lemonade stand to raise money, Amy?”
Amy nods. “For the animal shelter.”
“When are Chiara and Caitlyn arriving tomorrow?” I interject, trying to change the subject. But it’s no use.
Mom says, “I bet you didn’t know all that money Colin gave you for the animal shelter was all the birthday and Christmas money he’d been saving to buy himself a video game he’d been dying to play.”
Amy looks at me, her eyes like saucers.
Blushing, I murmur lamely, “I like animals.”
“I swear, though, Colin only ever did that kind of thing for you,” Mom says. “Otherwise, I guarantee we wouldn’t have been able to pry that money out of Colin’s cold, dead fist.”
“Mom!” I say, as my stepfather chuckles next to her. My stepdad wasn’t around during my childhood. He came along after Amy had already moved away. But clearly, he’s thoroughly enjoying my mother’s diabolical machinations. He’s a smart man, my stepfather. Surely, he knows what his wife is trying to do—because I sure as hell do.
“And do you remember the time you ‘ran away’ from home, when you were just a tiny little thing?” Mom asks.
“Enough, Mom,” I interject. “Please.”
Mom bats her eyelashes at me, feigning innocence. “Sweetheart, Amy and I are just reminiscing.” She returns to Amy, her eyebrows lifted in faux concern. “Am I making you uncomfortable, sweetheart?”
“Not at all. I’m loving this walk down memory lane.” As Mom flashes me a snarky look that says, See?, Amy laughs and says, “I’m pretty sure I ran away that time because nobody at home would play dolls with me.”