“We got it covered,” Jeff says with a nod at Lilah. He’s fifty and married, but I feel a stab of jealousy at his gesture and realize just how screwed I am.
But thankfully, I’ve got a crisis to keep me from delving too deeply into exactly what Lilah means to me. I’m trying not to hyperventilate at the image of having to deliver this baby in the backseat of the Torino.
When Carol and I reach the sidewalk, Mom is just climbing out of her car. She’s in her PJs with her hair up in rollers.
“Let me take her,” she says, opening the passenger door for Carol. “It makes more sense for you to stay here.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” I guide Carol to her passenger door.
“I thought you were changing,” Carol says as I lower her into Mom’s car.
Mom pokes at her curlers. “Decided my grandniece was more important than my image.” She waves before she drops into the driver’s seat. “I’ll keep you posted.”
I watch them roll away from the curb. One bullet dodged.
But there’s another waiting at the bar to take me down.
I take a deep breath. The night air is cold and helps ground me. Because, despite everything that just happened with Carol, it’s that kiss that’s left me spinning.
Inside, Lilah is standing at the end of the bar, looking every inch as stunned as I feel. She just stares at me a long second before climbing onto her stool. “You didn’t make her drive herself, did you?”
I smile. “Mom just got here and took her.”
I pick up the drink shaker with the girls’ concoction and pour it into glasses, then bring them to the table. They all thank me and the blonde slips a napkin into my hand. When I look, I see it’s got her number scrawled on it. But I can’t find it in me to follow through with what I started.
Lilah’s playing when I get back to the bar. She doesn’t look at me and I’m not sure what that means. And at eleven thirty, same as every other night, she packs up.
“’Night, Bran. Hope everything’s okay with Carol.”
I nod and she leaves. And out the window, a white Mustang passes by.
Chapter 14
Lilah
Jon’s family is scarily well adjusted. He’s got an older sister, Jennifer, who’s the cheerleader I saw at the dance, and a younger brother, Jeff, who’s in junior high. His parents are both home from work by six every night and they eat dinner together as a family, late on practice days and early on game nights. I’ve never seen anything like it, even on TV.
We’ve spent a lot of time together in the three weeks since the Homecoming dance. He drives me to school, and picks me up on his way home from practice every Tuesday and Wednesday so we can watch The Voice together, because our TV still isn’t fixed. On Fridays, he picks me up at the bar at eleven thirty, and on Saturdays, he drives me both ways.
But we’ve only kissed three times, and they’ve all been at school, when his friends were watching. And that was all the week after the dance. Over the weeks between, things have evolved into something very un-romantic. We sit and bitch about teachers, and his friends, and he talks about his love of all things Marvel, which makes sense since he’s a little comic himself. He’s turned out to be not so horrible to hang out with.
We’re sitting at the dinner table and everyone’s taking turns talking about their day. The only one who seems to escape show-and-tell is Jon’s dad, who just sits at his end of the table chewing and nodding at what everyone else has to say.
When they all look at me I feel myself tense a little. I can sing to a crowded room, but there’s nothing I hate more than talking about myself. “Nothing really happened at school except the algebra test Jon mentioned.”
“How do you think you did?” Bethany, Jon’s mother asks, all bright eyes and smiles.
I shrug. “Pretty sure I bombed it.”
Her face goes all mock disappointment. “Maybe Jonathan can help you study for the next one. He’s a math whiz.”
I don’t tell her he helped me study for this one. Don’t want to tarnish his “math whiz” status.
She pats my hand. “I was talking to one of my dearest friends today, and her brother’s family runs Mimi’s, the market on the corner of Main and Sierra. She said he might be looking for stock clerk if you haven’t found anything yet.
“That would be great. Thanks!” I wonder to myself if there’s an employee discount. Destiny and I are barely scraping by and something for dinner other than ramen would be nice every once in a while.
She tells me who to ask for when I stop by and we move on to Jeff.
He talks about his soccer team as we all finish eating and clear the table. When the kitchen is clean—another family activity—Jon and I head to the loft where the kids’ TV is. It’s Wednesday night. The semifinals results show. The Voice is down to its final six and Lo is one of them.