“One of the girls called in sick.” Her mother shrugged one shoulder. “It’s the dinner rush. More tips.”
“That’s always good.” She tugged on a slice of pepperoni, jalape?o, and pineapple with extra cheese. A weird combination, but it worked. Carbs, meat, veg, and fruit all in one bite. She hummed in appreciation at the salty, sweet, tangy, spicy extravaganza happening in her mouth.
“You’re in a good mood today.” Her mother bit into her own slice, a string of gooey cheese following in the wake of the pizza.
Excitement bubbled from her insides to manifest as prickles just beneath her skin. “I’m giving Caleb a painting for his birthday.”
At the mention of Caleb, some of the light in her mother’s expression dimmed. “Oh.”
“Mom,” she whined. “Don’t tell me we have to talk about this again.”
Her mother chewed thoughtfully. “It’s just I thought I would have met him by now.”
“I’m not hiding him from you.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” She took another bite. “Don’t be so defensive.”
Didi’s shoulders stiffened. Then she forced herself to relax by exhaling slowly. She wasn’t going to fight with her mother about this. “Your schedules just haven’t meshed, that’s all. He spends most of the time at his father’s firm.”
“But he’s important enough that you’re giving him a painting for his birthday.”
The skepticism stung, but she was determined not to let it affect her. “It seems like the appropriate gift. Personal and made by me. Plus, what do you give someone who already has everything money can buy?”
The ever-present concern that seemed to wrinkle her mother’s brow returned. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I won’t,” Didi said without hesitation. “You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”
“You know I trust you. I just . . .”
“Worry,” Didi finished for her. Putting her pizza down, she rounded the table and gave her mother a hug, which her mom returned. “After his birthday, Caleb will be off to Europe with Nathan, and I will concentrate on finding a job.” The air in the room shifted from tense to comfortable again. “But if you really want to meet him, I can give him a call.”
“I guess there’s no point if he’s leaving so soon. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend, right?”
The knot in Didi’s gut tightened. Did she want him to be her actual boyfriend? The kiss by the lake had made her wish for it. She had learned so much about him in the short time they had been together: He hated junk food. He was athletic and competitive. And he was sweet.
The last part she hoped wasn’t just pretend. That the kindness he had shown her had been genuine. To think otherwise would break her heart.
She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall and said, “Aren’t you going to be late?”
Her mom’s eyes widened. “Ah, crap!” She took one more bite of her pizza, gave Didi a quick kiss on the cheek, and ran up the stairs to her room. “Can you grab my—”
“Uniform’s already ironed,” she interrupted, raising her voice so her mother could hear her.
“You’re an angel.”
With a smile on her face, Didi finished her slice and ambled back into her art room. The canvas still remained as blank as when she’d left it, but instead of looking like an empty space, it now resembled possibilities. An infinite number of them. Ideas flitted across her mind’s eye, one after the other. It was caused by the excitement of creation. The real effect of not taking the drugs would begin tomorrow morning at the earliest, but she wasn’t worried. She had time. With the boost of energy she expected to come, she would have a million paintings completed way before Caleb’s birthday bash.
Picking up her palette and brush off the floor, she swiped the tip across the white, creating a bright yellow arch. She tilted her head, placing the brush’s handle between her teeth, and grinned. It was a start.
Nineteen
INSIDE HIS CAR, Caleb gently nudged Didi’s shoulder. Instead of waking up, she snuggled closer against the door she had been leaning on since he picked her up that morning. She made the cutest murmuring sleep noises. Like a content kitten in a patch of sunlight. She looked paler than usual, which twisted his insides. The dark purple smudges beneath her eyes were also a cause for concern. Reminding himself there was no point in worrying, since they were nearing the end of their time together, he gave her shoulder another nudge.
“We’re here,” he said softly.
“Too early,” she grumbled back, eyes shut tight.
“It’s already ten.”
“Mmm . . .”
He shook his head and smiled. Then he spoke without thinking about the words, “Come on, da—” He stopped, shocked. He had been about to call her darling. It was what his father used to call his mother. Where the hell had the impulse come from? He swallowed as the rightness of the endearment spread through him. Fortunately her next words distracted him from himself.