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“So it’s not so much a gift as blind stinking luck.”
“Don’t think of it that way. Think of it as serendipity.” When I rolled my eyes, he nuzzled my neck. “It led me to you.”
“You’re not strong enough yet!” I cried. “Let me come with you.”
“No. I’ve learned my lesson, Iris. And after what happened in the shed, don’t even think of arguing,” he said. “I want you and Gigi to be seen out in public, somewhere with lots of people.”
“Yes, thank you for including me in this decision that affects me. I am so glad my opinions and considerations were taken into account.”
“Trust me, your needs were taken into account, which is why you aren’t going,” he said, slipping into his jacket. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than a few hours. If you come home and I’m not here, if anything seems wrong, I want you to call Ophelia. Tell her the information she needs is in graphite under petal.”
“Is that considered English?”
“She’ll understand eventually.”
“So was this the big ‘moment’ you were waiting for?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, but it’s a step in the right direction. It’s coming, Iris. And when it does—”
“All set!” Gigi crowed as she bounced back into the room. “I even put a Britney Spears CD in the stereo for you.”
It took the concentration of every single cell in my body to keep from bursting out laughing at the expression on Cal’s face.
“I’ll be back soon,” he told me, kissing me softly. Gigi made requisite gagging noises until Cal walked out the front door. We watched as he folded himself into the little green car and drove away.
I tried to tamp down my disquiet. He was just running to the post office. People did that every day … in broad daylight … when it was open. Still, it wasn’t as if someone was going to be lying in wait there just in case Cal caught a misdirected Post-it. But why had Cal given me the weird instructions? Why did he seem so worried?
And when he kissed me, why did it feel like good-bye?
When the brake lights cleared my driveway, I turned on Gigi. “What do you want?”
Her brow creased, and her blue eyes widened to the point where she looked like an animé character. I knew something was up. “Why would you assume that I want something?”
I crossed my arms and gave her a speculative once-over. “June 2007, you wanted your ears pierced a second time. Your grades improved to a three-point-four average without a lecture from me on responsibility or buckling down. November 2008, you wanted an iPod for Christmas. Without preamble, the garbage was routinely taken out without my nagging, and the laundry pile mysteriously disappeared from the office couch. June 2009, you wanted a car. The recycling miraculously sorted itself. History shows that your sudden willingness to share your car, which you’ve never even let me drive, has to be connected to some sort of personal goal.”
She winced, wringing her hands and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I might have told Sammi Jo and Braelynn that I would meet them for ice cream tonight at ten.”
Excellent—mundane details to distract me!
“At ten? On a school night?” I exclaimed.
“They’re both in rehearsals for the spring musical,” she said, her tone tipping toward wheedling. “They won’t get out until ten. I haven’t seen them in weeks. Please, Iris, please! I’ve got all of my homework done, and I don’t have any tests tomorrow. I’ll be home by eleven.”
I checked my watch. It was around seven-thirty. Cal had told us to go somewhere public, with lots of witnesses.
“I tell you what, you and I will go see a movie, and I’ll drop you off at the Dairy Freeze on the way home. Can Sammi Jo give you a ride?”
“Yes!” she cried, hugging me. “Thank you, thank you!”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I told her. “I get to pick the movie.”
“Oh, no.” She moaned. “Come on, Iris, I can’t suffer through an Iris pick on a school night!”
“My movie taste isn’t that bad,” I protested as she grabbed her purse.
She snorted. “Says the girl who paid top dollar to see The Bounty Hunter in the theater.”
“I have an inappropriate loyalty to Gerard Butler,” I grumbled, shutting the door behind us.
