I was definitely going to kick his ass, no matter how many damn wrestling medals he’d won.
Mom brushed her hair behind her ears. “So. My advice as a woman.” She chewed her lip. “She won’t take your calls at all?”
I shook my head.
She reached across the table to rest her hand on mine. “Then you need to do something unexpected. Something she can’t ignore.”
“Yeah. But I don’t know what.”
She tapped her chin. “She’s a smart girl. I bet she’s not into big displays like flowers or singing telegrams.”
That almost made me laugh. What would the person sing?
She ran her fingers across the tablecloth. “Maybe you need to do something old-fashioned, but powerful.”
I shifted in my chair uneasily. “Like what?”
She leaned across the table, looking way too excited. “Like a letter.” She paused. “A love letter.”
“Uh…I don’t think so.”
“Why not? You love her, don’t you?”
My face burned and I looked away. I should’ve asked Desi for advice, not Mom.
“Fine, don’t admit it. I’m only your mother. Only changed your diapers—”
“Stop, Mom. Right now. You know that BS doesn’t work on me.”
She sighed then laughed softly. “All right. But honestly, Slade, I think this could work. Write down all your feelings. Remind her of all the special times you’ve spent together.”
I reached up to pull the shoelace out of my hair. I twisted it around my fingers, considering the idea. Write a love letter? For real?
“You need to use stationery. No more texts.” She paused, and then grinned. “Maybe put some of your cologne on the paper.”
“Mom.” My face burned again, but I laughed at her. “You sure you’re a professional? Didn’t you have to pass some sort of test before they let you loose on strangers with this kind of pathetic advice?”
She laughed, but then her face turned all serious. “It kills me to see you like this. You two are so…so adorable together. When I set up this job for you, I never would’ve guessed—” She stopped talking suddenly, her face stricken.
I scratched the back of my head. “Maybe you set up the interview, but I got the job by myself.” I grinned at her. “Max’s mom was totally wowed by my awesomeness.”
Mom’s responding smile looked forced. “That’s what I meant.” She tore at the tissue still in her hand. “Of course you got the job by yourself.” She stood up suddenly. “I’ll get the stationery. Be right back.”
While I waited for her to return, I checked my phone. Of course she hadn’t texted me. But Desi had: Still pouting. But keep trying.
I wasn’t giving up. I was about to write an actual love letter. If that wasn’t trying, I didn’t know what was.
Mom returned with a box and dropped it on the table. I eyed it warily. “It has flowers, Mom. And baby ducks. I can’t use that.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Do we need to watch You’ve Got Mail together?”
I jerked upright. “No, we do not.” I pulled out a piece of paper and scrawled quickly, then passed the letter to Mom.
Sorry I was a dick. You’re a cool chick.
Mom threw the paper on the table, but I could tell she was biting back laughter. I stood up, grabbing the box of girlie paper.
“You didn’t really think I’d write it in front of you, did you? This isn’t fourth grade homework at the kitchen table, Mom.”
She shook her head, smiling in exasperation, and I backed out of the room, giving her a lazy salute.
Chapter Forty-Two
Trina
July 17, Wednesday
Mom knocked softly on my door, stepped inside, and held out a lavender envelope.
“For you.”
I yanked my earbuds out of my ears and stared at the envelope. My heart flipped over when I recognized Slade’s messy scrawl.
Mom waited, smiling down at me. I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Privacy, please.”
She sighed, but left the room. “At least let me know if you forgive him,” she called through the door.
Why couldn’t she be at work today? “Not listening!” I yelled. “Putting in earbuds.”
I tore open the envelope then hesitated. What if this was an official “we’re done” letter? But nobody did that anymore. We dumped by text, not old lady stationery. I caught a whiff of something. I pressed the envelope to my nose and almost giggled out loud. Had he actually put his cologne on this?
I took a deep breath and eased the letter out of the envelope. My eyes scanned the page, reading greedily, and then I started over again, reading slowly. By the third pass, tears flowed down my cheeks and my heart banged against my rib cage. I reached for my phone, ready to call him to see when we could meet.