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ABIGAIL PULLEDUP to Leif’s house the morning of the gala and stopped the car. "I contacted Mr. Lively- "
"You mean Leif?" Birdie's tone showed how little progress Abigail had made in modifying her daughter's behavior.·
"Yes. Your art instructor. His text said he was sorry he forgot the work, but he is certain he left your matted prints on his workbench. Use the key in the birdhouse and make sure you relock the door."
“Uh, this is so inconvenient.”
“I’m sorry. I’m the one who said I would pick them up and didn’t. He just forgot this morning. We both have a lot going on. Don’t be angry with him. It's my fault."
"Well, then why don'tyougo inside and get them?
“Because I have a few calls to make. Just go get them." Abigail said, jerking her head insistently toward the house where she’d found such pleasure. She didn’t want to go inside and remember the smells, the whispers of what they’d once been. Her heart just couldn’t handle it.
Birdie sat there staring straight ahead.
“Do you want to enter the contest or not? If so, go getyourart pieces. You want to be independent? This is how we start." Abigail motioned toward Leif's house.
“Fine. Jeez, you're as uptight as ever,” Birdie said, sliding from the car.
After Abigail had embarrassed Birdie in her English class, they'd had a heart-to-heart. Hadn't been easy, but Abigail had laid out how much Birdie's attitude hurt her. And Birdie had done some ranting herself. Thankfully, Cal had followed through with his promise to talk to their daughter about how he and her mother would not be reconciling. After the parental double team, Birdie had gone back to being a normal mercurial preteen. At times she settled into almost pleasant. Emphasis onalmost.
"I'm not being uptight. Go. We're on a schedule."
"We're always on a schedule. I can't believe you're waiting to the last minute. Not like you, Mom."
Well, maybe that was because she was an emotional wreck. She'd tried to be distant and hated every moment of playing the ice queen. Seeing Leif's reaction made something wither inside her. This was not who she wanted to be. So she'd had a come-to-Jesus meeting with herself, looking hard at the woman she'd clung to being. "I've been preoccupied."
“Because you broke up with Leif?”
“We didn’t break up. We were never together. We were just friends who hung out, but now we’re both busy so we just haven’t had the time.”
Friends didn't avoid one another. Friends also didn't cry themselves to sleep from missing the other person. She was lying to her daughter, but unwilling to tell the truth. How could she do that when she was still processing her life?
Birdie gave her a sympathetic look, like she totally knew that Leif had wised up.
Abigail gave a heavy sigh. A few nights ago her broken heart and two glasses of wine had convinced her to stomp over to Leif’s house, tell him she wanted him, and vow to not give a damn who knew it. But half way down the path, she turned around.
He was still going to leave. He’d said so many times. So why allow her heart to tumble even harder? She was halfway to healing. Or maybe a fourth of the way. No need to backtrack only to repeat herself. Besides, she didn’t know how to undo the hurt between them. She’d hurt his feelings by not squiring him around town. She’d wanted to keep her business private. Nothing wrong with that. Except it had hurt Leif. And she didn’t want to go through what she’d went through with Cal. The taillights of his car still haunted her.
Cal left. Leif would leave, too.
But what if she took a leap of faith and asked him to stay? Would he? He’d loved and left a lot of women. Was she special enough for him to stay? And if he did, what would that mean? Just an affair? A relationship? Something more permanent?
Dashing those thoughts from her head, Abigail looked at her watch. She had forty minutes to get Birdie and her entries to the judges' table before her hair appointment. The gala would be held at the newly renovated country club and the attire was dressy for once. Hilda insisted they move toward more black tie than work boots, so Abigail had dragged out an old bridesmaid's dress of inky blue, cut the skirt off to midthigh and bought a pair of silver stilettos that matched the streak in her hair. When she'd tried on the outfit last week, she'd nearly tossed it for her standby modest black dress with the satin bow. But then she imagined Leif seeing her in the blue one, and she'd decided to be bold.
Maybe wearing something sexy and not so Abigail would give her the courage to do what she deep down wanted to do - ask Leif to stay.
God, why was she so indecisive? Why did she let her past hurts overshadow her new intentions. She wanted Leif. She loved…
Wait, did she love him?
Oh, God. She knew she did.
Birdie came out carrying her two pieces and an additional piece that looked to be hastily wrapped. She placed the work in the back before sliding into her seat up front. Her face looked stony, like she was still peeved Abigail hadn’t picked up the entries in the first place.
“I thought you only had two entries?”
“I do. But I think this one is Hayden Mott’s. Figured I would bring it in case. The deadline is at 4:00 so if he’s entering it, he wouldn’t have time to come get it.” Birdie clicked her seat belt, then stared straight ahead, shoving her earbuds into her ears.
