“Ryan and Gyver don’t really mix.”
“That’s too bad.” Her sincerity was undermined by how quickly she moved on. “I’ll make dinner reservations at Chez Bleu and we’ll all dress up and go.”
“When?”
“How about tonight? Tomorrow you’re busy with East versus Green, and Saturday you’re going to be recovering from East versus Green.”
I looked at Mom’s eager face. This was important to her, and the sooner we did the dinner the better, because if I gave her a week she’d rent a banquet hall and book a DJ. “Sounds fun. You can ask Ryan when he comes to pick me up.”
“Do you have something to wear? If not, we can delay a few days and go shopping.” Her eyes brightened at the prospect.
“No, I’ve got the perfect dress. I’m going to get in the shower.”
“I’m excited about this—are you?” She hugged me and touched the scarf I’d tied around my head. “You’ll wear your wig, of course. You only wear these things in the house, right?”
I nodded and backed out of the room.
I fell asleep in the shower—something I hadn’t realized was possible until I woke up sliding down the tile wall and had to make a slippery grab at the shower curtain. It tore free of two of the metal rings. I was too dizzy and disoriented to care. I wrapped up in a towel and lay on my bed, dripping and sudsy. It was eleven minutes before I could summon the energy to sit up and towel off, another two before my head cleared enough to stand and lurch to the dresser for clothing.
When I came downstairs, Ryan was in the kitchen eating oatmeal and nodding at Mom as she blathered. “Maybe there’ll be a pianist at Chez Bleu. I love a good pianist, don’t you?”
Ryan struggled to keep a straight face as he swallowed a scoop of oatmeal. “Absolutely.”
I rolled my eyes behind Mom’s back. His smile widened and she turned to see the cause. “Oh, kitten, Ryan’s free tonight! I already called Chez Bleu and left a message to call me as soon as they open. I’ve got to pick up your father’s blue suit from the cleaners and maybe buy him a new tie. I wonder if I’ll have time to get a mani/pedi over lunch. How are your nails? Do you want me to wait and we can go together after school?”
“No, go at lunch. I may want a nap after practice.” I meant it as a hint not to go overboard, to alert her that I wasn’t feeling a hundred percent, but she barreled on.
“Okay. Maybe I’ll call Christine’s Bakery and reserve a cake or pie. What types of pie do you like, Ryan? Mia, eat something.”
I scooped oatmeal into a bowl, adding liberal amounts of raisins and honey, but even doctored up, it wasn’t appealing. My stomach clamped around the first bites I forced down.
Mom prattled, Ryan smiled politely while poking me under the table, I pushed oatmeal around my bowl. Until I looked at the clock. “Ryan, we’re going to be late.”
Just as I was about to write her off as frivolous, Mom surprised me with her parting comments. “We need this, kitten. A reason to be excited, I mean. You’ve been gloomy and out of sorts this week—it’s affecting us all. Could you get excited about this and perk up?”
My eyes widened at her observations, but years of practice summoned a smile to my lips. “Of course, Mom. You’re right, this is a great idea—I can’t wait!”
“Great. Now have a good day at school, both of you.” She touched the tip of my nose with a finger. “Tonight’s going to be perfect. Wait and see.”
Climbing out of the car made the school parking lot tilt. I clung to Ryan as my vision spun.
He held me and laughed. “I’m usually the one convincing you it’s worth it to be late. Not that I’m complaining …”
My forehead was beaded in sweat and my stomach churned, but I felt steadier. I let go of his arm and took my book bag from his hand. “I just stood up too fast.”
“Sure,” he teased, his hand curling around my waist, thumb threading through a belt loop on my jeans. “We both know you find me irresistible.”
I smiled and started up the steps. “Completely irresistible. Can you blame me?”
“Not at all.” He opened the school door, then paused when he saw who was waiting on the other side. He’d taken a forget-about-it attitude with Hil, but they were awkward. “Oh, hey.”
She nodded to him and turned to me. “Can I have a minute? I brought you a mocha.”
Her question and caffeinated bribe conveyed her guilt; I needed my actions to speak as loudly. I unhooked Ryan’s thumb from my waistband.
“Sure. I’ll see you later, Ryan.” I wobbled as I stepped away from his supportive arm and took the cup. “Thanks. I missed breakfast, so perfect timing.”
She smiled tentatively. “We’re still okay?”
“Yes.” My voice was breathless and tired.
“Good. Come over before the game tomorrow? I need some us time. We can talk about everything but boys. And if you really want to talk about Ryan or Gyver too, I suppose I’ll allow it.”