Page 34 of Before We’re More Than Friends (When We Faced the Music #1)
“Sorry, girl.” Mom placed glasses of sweet tea on the table before sitting in her usual spot.
“ Per favore, benedici il nostro cibo ,” she said, a prayer I hadn’t heard in a long time.
When we were little, she used to slip bits of Italian into her speech, but as she got older, she shifted from her roots as Patricia De Luca and becoming rooted in Patsy Vermont.
The same warmth that used to fill my chest when she spoke Italian overcame me. “ Buon appetite .”
Arielle shoved the garlic bread in her mouth, not giving herself any room to breathe.
Mom giggled. “My goodness.”
“This is so freaking good,” Arielle said while chewing, her words barely audible.
“Thank you.” Mom brushed her hair back. “I wasn’t sure if I still had it in me.”
“You do,” I said as I ate my pasta, though I wasn’t eating sloppily like Arielle. I couldn’t help but to beam through my bites. I was slowly getting my mom back after years of watching her fade in horror.
“Thank you.” Mom’s cheeks flushed before she cleared her throat. “I do have news for the two of you, though. And no, it is not related to . . .” Her eyes traveled to the counter with the envelopes on them. “It’s news that you might like.”
Of course there was an occasion for this dinner. There was always an occasion for something.
Arielle slowed her eating, finally giving herself the chance to breathe. She exchanged a concerned look with me before asking, “What is it?”
“I signed up for the recovery program at the local hospital,” Mom said, her hands starting to shake as she clasped them together.
She hadn’t touched her food yet. “It’ll be every Monday, starting next week.
I was able to work it out with my boss to cut my Monday shifts in half so I can attend.
” She swallowed, her eyes locking with Arielle’s.
“I don’t want this to be an empty promise. ”
A few moments of silence passed by before I broke the ice. “I’m proud of you.” And I meant it.
“Me too,” Arielle said, though she stared at her plate.
“It’s going to be a long road,” Mom said.
“But I’m willing to drive down it if it means I can get to the destination I want to be.
” She finally touched her fork. “Arielle, you were right when you said you two don’t have real parents anymore.
I expect you to be more respectful, but I know I’ve caused just as much pain as your father has. ”
“Yeah.” Arielle fiddled with her own fork. “But I really want you to follow through this time.”
“I won’t break my promise.” Mom reached her hands out on the table. I grabbed hers and squeezed it, but it took a few seconds for Arielle to do the same. Tears shone in Mom’s eyes. “You don’t break promises to people you love.”
“You don’t,” Arielle said before letting go of Mom’s hand.
Mom nodded, wiping a tear that fell down her cheeks. She let go of my hand and started eating her pasta.
“I love you, Mom,” I said, looking her in the eyes. I was used to the distressed look of guilt in them, but it wasn’t there now. There was a sliver of hope in the sea of brown.
Arielle smiled. “I love you, too.”
“I love you girls.” Mom beamed, another tear trailing down her cheek. “You’re my sunshine and moonlight.”
Tuesday marked a full week of being back at school. Thankfully, not many people were talking about Dad’s arrest anymore. There were fewer eyes on me, and no one brought anything up to my face.
But that was short-lived at lunch.
“I think I prefer passion fruit to strawberry,” Gracelynn said after sipping on the strawberry bubble tea Sienna had gotten us—along with her signature coffee. “I love strawberry, but nothing compares to my passion fruit.”
“I don’t understand how you could prefer passion fruit over strawberry,” I said, already finished with my own drink.
“I don’t understand how you could not prefer passionate fruit over strawberry.” Gracelynn shook her head. “I don’t trust your judgment anymore.”
“You don’t trust anyone’s judgment.”
“Well, now I trust yours even less.”
“I have to agree with Raina,” Sienna said as she inhaled her tea—though she made more progress with her coffee. “Passion fruit is great, but you can never go wrong with strawberry.”
“And I thought we were always on the same team.” Gracelynn mock-frowned before facing Arielle, who hadn’t made much progress with her strawberry bubble tea.
She’d barely brushed her hair, rushed her makeup routine, and nearly got us in at least four accidents during our twenty-minute drive to school.
“What’s wrong today?” Gracelynn asked. “You’ve barely said two words to us.”
“I’m sorry.” Arielle played with her straw. “I don’t know how to feel.”
“What happened?” Sienna asked, though I already knew what the problem was.
“Our dad sent us letters last night.” Boom . “And I read mine.”
“You what?” I asked, spit flying over my food.
Now that I hadn’t been expecting .
Arielle cringed and scooted away from me. “Say it, don’t spray it.”
“Sorry.” I put a paper towel over my half-eaten sandwiches. “I didn’t expect you to read the letter so soon.” In fact, I was surprised she hadn’t burned it with one of her cinnamon-scented candles.
“I wasn’t able to fall asleep until I finally read it at three in the morning or something.”
“ Three in the morning?” We got up at around six thirty to eat and do our makeup. “Even Sienna doesn’t stay up that late.”
“No, I do,” Sienna said, now sipping her coffee. “You get used to it.”
“Trust me, I don’t want to get used to that. School already starts early enough.” Arielle faced me again, her eyes heavy as she brushed her messy locks. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I told her, putting my hand on hers. “I’m proud of you for taking that step.”
“Thank you.” She gave me a pained smile. “That doesn’t mean I forgive him or want to respond, though.”
“You have every right to feel that way,” Sienna said.
“You don’t owe him anything.” The heavy tone in her voice made me think she was thinking about her own mom.
She knew what it was like not to forgive a parent, though her mom hadn’t bothered to reach out in the seven and a half years she’d been out of Sienna’s life.
“I agree,” Gracelynn said. “But I’m proud of you for taking that first step, too.”
Sienna nodded. “Me too.”
“Thank you, guys.” Arielle faced me again. “Are you going to read yours soon?”
I twirled a diamond bracelet around my wrist. “I’m not sure. ”
“If you do decide, good luck,” Sienna said. “I wouldn’t know how to respond.”
“ That makes me feel better.”
“Sorry.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it.
“It’s fine,” I said, though my tone sounded anything but. For the rest of the lunch period, I couldn’t even finish my bubble tea because of the sourness in my stomach.