Page 159 of Things We Hide from the Light

“Thanks,” I said, warding off the hug by gesturing with my glass of wine. “So do you.”

“No. Really. You look wonderful. Stunning even.”

This coming from the girl who’d canceled my standing invitation to sleepovers at her house.

“Thanks,” I said again.

She shook her head and grinned, showing that long forgotten dimple. “I’m gushing. I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve thought about you so often over the years.”

I couldn’t think of a single reason why. She and the rest of the team, the rest of my friends, had essentially abandoned me.

It wasn’t like faulty heart valves were contagious, but being linked to me was apparently deadly for teenage reputations.

“Mom!” A boy with fiery red hair and milkshake staining his jacket launched himself into the midst of our conversation. “Mom!”

Angie rolled her eyes but somehow did so with affection. “Hey. Remember that whole manners conversation we had yesterday and the day before that and the day before that?” she asked.

The boy’s eye roll was an exact copy of his mother’s. He heaved a world-weary sigh before turning to me. “Hi. I’m Austin. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Austin,” I said, not quite able to smother a smile.

“Cool.” He turned back to his mother. “Nowcan I ask you my very important, worth-interrupting-you question?”

“Fire away,” Angie said.

He took a deep breath. “Okay, so Davy said there was no way I could beat him at the balloon dart game. Which is totally stupid because I’m way better at throwing things than he is. Only I didn’t do so good in the first round because he cheated and poked me in my tickle zone. Which isnotfair. And I need a rematch.”

“So you need more than the ten bucks I gave you in the car that came with an explicit warning not to ask for more because you weren’t going to get another dollar out of me,” Angie summarized, shooting me an amused look.

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yep!”

“Why didn’t you ask your father?”

“He’s in a grudge match with Brayden at Whack-a-Mole.”

Angie closed her eyes and then looked up at the night sky. “Is it too much to have asked for a little estrogen in my house?” she asked the universe.

“Mom,” Austin said on a desperate whine.

“Did you take the garbage out last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you do all your homework for Monday?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you willing to pull the weeds in the front flower bed without complaining or asking for more money?”

His nod was even more vigorous. “I’ll even fold my own laundry for the week.”

“Five bucks,” Angie said, producing her wallet from her purse.

“Yes!” Austin pumped his fist victoriously.

She held out the bill but pulled it back when her son reached for it. “Hold it, buster. When Davy goes to throw his dart, wave and say ‘Hi, Erika.’”

Austin frowned. “Why?”