He'd asked me the hardest question first, so all that followed were easier. To label it neatly on a page: this leads to this leads to this. Looking at her, I realized that I was upset, even hurt: but Kristy, she waspissed . Along the front, sunflowers moved lazily in the breeze, brushing a side window: beneath them were a row of rosebushes, their perfumelike scent permeating the air. "Macy," she said, "I need you to get me a phone number." He'd just appeared, as if he'd dropped out of the sky or something. "Um, no," I said. He looked at me. "I would think it would be horrible, having to be on your feet all the time and waiting on people… plus, well, that woman just seemed so disorganized. I could tell he was shocked by my running, by the very fact that I was standing there in front of him, gasping for air. Once, I would have just let Wes go. "A Coke sign!" Rachel stumbled off to the jeep, where she was greeted with more laughter and a few bicycling jokes. "Macy," she said, "I am so sorry. She's got some swatches she wants to show me." "Fes. "No," Wes said. But it was. "Her name was Mrs. Felton, Barbara Felton's mom. "God," she said, sighing as she pushed her hair out of her face, "doesn't it seem, sometimes, that the whole damn world's uphill?" "Good God," she said finally, fanning her face with her hand, "I've seen it a million times, but it just never gets old. It wasn't new, this realization that I would never be like them. Here I go. "I bet," he said, "you'd be faster than you think. "It depends on the brand," my mother said, her eyes on the screen. Hit me." This last part, I was already beginning to recognize, was a mantra of sorts for her, as if by stringing all these words together, one of them might stick. I didn't want it to end at all, much less right that second. Independent marketing representatives are far more economical than employed salespeople. For a second none of us said anything, and I wondered if, in the end, this is how all disputes are settled, with a shared silence as things become equal. "I thought maybe she'd be in tonight." "My friend was giving birth." "What—" "Hold on," I told him. my mother asked me as we walked around the side of the house, and suddenly I realized it was Wes's stuff. Kristy was leaning forward from the backseat, hand on the radio: I could hear the dial moving across stations, from static to pop songs to some thumping techno bass beat. Bethany and Amanda did, too. "I mean, shoot. It's like forever, always changing." I was not a drinker, never had been. Page 63 Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Because she was behind me, fussing with the rollers, I couldn't see her face as she said this. "Unless you just had nothing else to do." Make that a lot unsteady. With my dad gone, we had assumed our relationship with EZ Products was over. "Hey," he said. My mother trafficked in new houses, so of course the idea of everything being perfect and pristine, even better than before, would appeal to her. "He didn't," I told her, and she visibly relaxed. I was truly stumped. They'd forgotten about me already, it seemed. I really envy that." It's just… something that happened. There you are!" "Actually, you're not. I watched her gaze move across the tables of fresh corn, goat cheese, and hammocks, until, finally: "Oh." "He survived." "Are you wearing a tie?" I made a face. The older guy nudged him, then nodded toward the fliers. Unless you count this conversation." "Macy, no. He stood there for a second, taking a final look around, before climbing in and shutting the door behind him. "I think." "Macy, please, take these and put them somewhere. "It's supposed to be off this road, but I can't—" "Right there," she said, turning and pointing to a gravel strip to the right of the produce stand, so narrow it looked more like a driveway than a real street. Another few seconds passed. "Cam-ooo." Page 95 Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "During staring contests," I said, "she always blinked.Always . Wes nodded, slowly de-shelling another shrimp. An hour earlier, when she'd settled in front of the TV, she'd begun dozing immediately. "Why? He walked through with me. "Macy," she said, gesturing down the table to a heavyset guy in a baseball cap, another in an orange shirt, and, at the end, a hippie-looking type with blue eyes and a ponytail, "this is John, Donald, and Philip." In so many ways, I was realizing, the info desk was a lot like my life had been before Wish and Kristy and Wes. I hated that face. "He was just some random guy who'd been on his way to the store, and he'd stopped and was trying to give my dad CPR. It was seven a.m. and he was just looking at all his pieces, at their movement, and then, as I shifted, leaning in closer to my screen, at me. "That was the night he saw you at Milton's, right, and he said he had an appointment?" "Nope. Caroline was still looking at us, expectant. But that is definitely one of them." And then, in a cloud of dust, the radio blasting, she was gone, hardly slowing for the stop sign at the end of the road. "Hello down there!" I said, bending down to grab my shoes off the floor. This is my mom's house." So much for teamwork, I thought, as I dropped the cloth and cleaner beside me and began to pick up the broken glass as fast as I could. "This is a cookout. I like that. Now. Never." "How far," I said, "would you say it is to the nearest gas station?" Even when I got to my car and opened the door, he hadn't moved, stayed there as I drove away. Not to Jason, who'd shed his commitment to me as easily as a second, ill-fitting skin. Read The Truth About Forever Online Free. Or maybe I did. "Okay," I said. Delia asked me. "It's done," my mother repeated slowly. Kissed him. "Exactly." I mean, you did a little, but nothing like most girls. It was always changing, it was what everything was really all about. "What time is it?" "Goat cheese currant?" "She was in a car accident when she was eleven." "Go ahead. "There you are," he said, as Hank/Frank looked on, annoyed. Only when I swallowed did I realize they were both looking at me, waiting for me to elaborate. "It's a big hole," I said, taking another look at it. She leveled her gaze at me, and I saw my sister was right. "Clowns," I repeated. Just the addition of so many people breathing gave it a totally different feel, some sort of palpable energy that was never there otherwise. Vinyl; plot, reader notes. Monica, across the room, said, "Hmmm," as if all of this actually made sense. They have to be! "This way," she said, and I followed her, pushing my cart, to the bottom of the driveway. "You have not," I said. I'd thought it might be like my dreams. A war in some Baltic country. No one else ever laughed—they were more groan inducing than anything else—but my mother always thought they were hysterical. "I know what it means to me," he said. He hadn't even kissed me until our third date, and now, after a year and a half, we still hadn't discussed going all the way. I just sat there watching him approach, his slow loping gait, and wondered what it would be like if he was coming to see me, coming to be with me. Or would tile be too expensive? Something with flair, you know. I'd chosen instead to just change my route, go miles out of the way, as if avoiding it would make it go away once and for all. In between, she'd taken to dropping in to show us pictures of the progress, ask for our opinions on decorating decisions, and tell my mother, repeatedly, that she needed to relax and take a vacation. she said, and they all laughed. "Bert. Or both. "My birthday is ticking away. So there we were, me and Wes, still walking, in the dark, on a break. Clearly she was on a mission. And suddenly I had these two boys to take care of, plus a newborn of my own. We were stuck out in the middle of nowhere." "Two and move," I said. All around us the house was so quiet, as if it, too, was just waiting for this to be over. "What do you mean?" Page 47 Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html I just sat there holding the phone, as the crying subsided to sniffling, then to hiccuping, then stopped altogether. "I haven't done anything wrong." Okay?" When I pulled in the driveway of the doublewide, I could see the light of the TV through the window. I knew she blamed herself for his death, thought that maybe it was the added stress of Wildflower Ridge that taxed my dad's heart, and if she hadn't pushed him to expand so much everything would have been different. "I have to be here," she said finally. Then we both shut up, abruptly: it was one of those moments when you're not sure what to respond to first, like a conversational photo finish where you're still waiting for the judges to weigh in. She took a breath. You'll see. "Whatever you do," he called out, "don't try and reverse out of it. I think I want to be a Veronique. Really. It had been so hard to come in here that first day, and every day since. You were so—" I trailed off, not knowing what word to use. "We were just concerned it might, you know, affect your performance." "No," she said quietly. It's the same reason I refuse to trade in my car, even though, for some reason, the A/C won't work when I have the radio on. I drank all of it down, rinsed the cup, and put it in the dishwasher. Only Monica stayed where she was, staring out the win-dow as I tried, hard, to comprehend everything that had just happened. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" When you develop your very first ad in the Facebook Ad Manager portal, you’ll see a laundry list of options to choose from. I pulled Kristy's jeans out of the dryer and folded them. "You know, it takes time to look like this. I, however, was exiled to the back room to organize mildewed magazines. He'd come highly recommended, but so far he and my mother had butted heads repeatedly, about his erratic schedule (he never seemed to answer the phone), the expensive china dishes Page 180 Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html he insisted she rent (because only they allowed the full culinary experience), and the menu, about which he'd so far declined to give specifics. Stupid Rachel, I thought. "Right as we're about to start boiling all those potatoes, I get this phone call from the client. "He was not happy." As she went inside I stood there for a second, the guys loading up things from all around me. "I am not," I said indignantly. For a second, I just sat there, letting it sink in. "Clowns." I asked him, forcing the words out, then immediately realized I was looking at him, not at his arm, so this question could concern just about anything. What's yours?" A bird flew by overhead, its shadow moving across the windshield. I wondered, as they reached the stop sign there, if she'd already remembered. "Yes," she said. I knew, deep down, it was more complicated than that, but watching Jason, I was hopeful. "Good night, Macy," she said after a second of quiet. Kristy looked at the slumped body beside her, then at me, and I raised my eyebrows. But my mother would never have understood why, in some small way, the mayhem of Delia's business would appeal to me. Monica stood up and followed her, and they went around to the back, pulling open the rear doors. From Delia's chaotic business practices to Kristy's scars to Wes's past, it was clear they were far from flawless. Then I headed back to the party and bathroom duty. "Thank you," I said. "It's good to see you." "Yeah, right," I said glumly. "Keep 'em coming!" A few seconds later I heard my sister come down the stairs. I bounced the quarter like Kristy had, and it landed in the cup with a splash, which was good. As this came out, it was like someone else had said it. "The current girlfriend," I said. As he got closer he squinted, making me out in the semi-dark. He has to be very careful not to get distracted from his goals."

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