“Late morning?” He looks at his phone—the weather app. “The weather actually looks pretty nice.”
Thank goodness for that. The last thing I need is a repeat from Thanksgiving and the freak snowstorm that ruined our lives. “Can I meet you here?”
“Actually, the tree place is up past Lee Vines. That’s where you live, right?”
“Yeah, it is. You want to pick me up?”
“Sure. How about eleven?”
“Sounds good.” I glance up at the clock on the wall. “I better run to catch my bus.”
I walk outside and the bright sun hurts my eyes but like Jasper said, the weather is pretty nice. I hear loud laughter and look to my right, seeing Christina holding court with her friends. She spots me and her lips turn in a cruel smirk. To my surprise though, she says nothing. Well, that’s a first.
I keep walking and get on the bus, sliding down in the vinyl seats. I have a clear view of the parking lot and Dexter’s Jeep. It’s stupid that we’re going to the same place but my ride takes twice as long.
By the time I get home, Jake and Dex are busy at the shop and I plan on spending Friday night alone, when I get a call from Claire.
“Want to go to the movies tonight?”
“Really? There’s a movie theater around here?”
“Sure. It’s between the June Lake dance studio and the Sophisticated Woman Wig Shop.”
I laugh. “That can’t be a real thing.”
“I took dance there until I was twelve and people need wigs. It’s just a fact.” She laughs. “Come on. I’m bored and it’s cold and I already know you’re not doing anything tonight.”
“Hold on, let me see if it’s okay with my grandmother.”
Turns out, it’s fine. Leelee has plans with Tom. “Meet me at the diner down the block at six.”
“Sounds good.”
I’ve hung up the phone when it rings again. I don’t recognize the number but it’s not in America.
“Hello?”
“Hey girl!”
“Hi Mom, how are you? Where are you?”
“Amazing,” she says, sounding like a different person than a few months before. My leaving gave her some kind of profound clarity and she took off on a trip to Europe on her own. “And Greece. It’s beautiful.”
She launches into a description of the buildings and art—her yoga and meditation classes. She sounds happy and I’d made a decision not to tell her all the drama going on here. There’s nothing she could do about it and I also wasn’t ready for a big dose of “I told you so” about the complications of being in relationships.
“What are you up to?”
“Headed into town for a movie, actually.”
“Oh, the one in June Lake,” she says fondly. “I spent many weekends at that theater. Do you have a date?”
The question is asked with forced lightness. She’s wondering about Dexter or maybe one of the other boys. For once, I don’t have to lie. “No. I’m just meeting a friend.”
“A girl?”
“Yes. Her name is Claire.”
Having a female platonic friend is almost as big news as a boyfriend. It’s all foreign territory for me and my mother to navigate, but to her credit, she manages to keep her opinions and fears in check.