“Ready?” I asked Auggie before moving the computer off the coffee table and onto my lap. “It’s time to send our baby out into the world.”
Holding my breath, I posted the video for public consumption. That one action opened me to criticism in cyberspace from cynics who couldn’t understand the need to help people half a world away. But hopefully, hopefully, the story and images would reach the right people, touch the ones who cared, inspire even one person to give. And maybe the one guy who’d trekked his way into my heart would find the Easter egg hidden inside and know how much I cared.
Chapter Thirty
Trust Mom to look out for me even when she was almost three thousand miles from home. Before we ventured off to Peru, she had arranged a special surprise: Reb. On a two-day reprieve from her treehouse restaurant project, my best friend showed up at our door early that evening, sleeping bag in one hand, bag of treats in the other, and a big squealing “Surprise!”
First thing, Reb reared back in horror—no pretense ever with her—when her shocked gaze locked in on my bare feet, bracketed by crutches: “Whoa… those are just wrong.” She gagged. “Bleh. Ballerina feet.”
“You mean old man feet,” I said, wiggling my toes, banged up with blisters and topped with chipped nail polish that had once been angry purple. My feet were best hidden in socks, but I had better traction with bare feet on the slippery hardwood floors. I shrugged. “It was all those downhill miles in hiking boots.”
“Good thing I’m such a great friend.” Reb jabbed a finger in the direction of my offending feet. “I’ll lead the SOS mission. Just remind me to thank Mom for telling me to bring supplies.”
An hour later, my poor, trek-battered feet were soft from a long, pampering soak in Hawaiian bath salts—“My grandpa wants to know whether these would be good amenities for his inn. What’s your vote?” (Two thumbs up.) Then she handed me a lava pumice stone—“He’s testing these, too. What do you think?” (Only for guests into masochism.) And finally after vigorous scrubbing, we both lavished Notice Me Red on our toenails. While Reb waddled to the kitchen on the backs of her heels, doing an unintentional penguin impression, I surreptitiously checked my phone. Still no answering text or e-mail from Quattro. What did I expect when he didn’t even own a cell phone?
“Quick, where’s my phone?” asked Reb, scanning the kitchen counters frantically. “I know it’s got to be around here somewhere.”
“Why?”
“I need a picture for proof. The official end of your boycott.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ummm… that’s like the fifteenth time you checked your phone. Does bending your own No Boy rule have anything to do with that rather spectacular guy I met? The rather spectacular guy that Grandma Stesha can’t stop talking about?”
“Hey! Isn’t there some kind of confidential tour guide–client privilege?” I demanded as Reb rummaged in the grocery bag that she had brought with her. She held up a bag of fresh kettle corn triumphantly.
“Why would you want to keep Quattro a secret?” Reb asked me, dodging out of danger’s way when Auggie bounded into the kitchen. Smart dog, she knows when food is about to be consumed. Reb’s voice may have softened, yet her tone was insistent: “Why would you want to keep anyone a secret?”
Good question.
I sighed as Reb stopped Auggie from lunging at a stray piece of popcorn that had fallen to the floor after she ripped the bag open. “I guess you know about Dom.”
“Well… yeah. It wasn’t just that you never talked about him with me and Ginny after mentioning him once or twice but that you totally changed how you dealt with boys afterward.”
“I think I didn’t say anything—I know I didn’t say anything—because deep down I knew he was all wrong. I mean, what kind of guy asks you not to tell anyone that you’re dating unless he’s embarrassed by you?”
“Or… maybe he was embarrassed by himself? I mean, isn’t it a little creepy for a business school student to date a high school junior?”
“When you put it that way…”
Reb brought the popcorn bowl over to me, and we each grabbed a handful.
I continued. “I’m such a hypocrite. I gave you a hard time about staying with Jackson. What did I say again?”
“What are you guys going to talk about when you’re in college and he’s still in high school? Prom?” Reb quoted with near-verbatim accuracy as she delicately plucked one piece of popcorn from the bowl and dropped it into her mouth.
“Ouch.” I grimaced. “Sorry. How can you stand me?”