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“Okay. I would be careful if I were you. She might go Katie Ka-Boom all over you.” He grabbed another cookie. “She’s in the first bedroom.” He sounded like he was daring me.
I swallowed hard, feeling like Tom Cruise flying right into the Danger Zone.
“KNOCK, KNOCK,” I SANG, INmy best Mrs. Brady voice.
“Go away!” Bridgette yelled.
I’d had a feeling that was the response I would get, but I knew I couldn’t give up. “I can’t, knowing that you’re in there hurting.”
“The only reason you care about me is because of my dad.”
“The only reason I know about you is because of your dad, but I do care.”
There was a bout of silence before the door flung open with gusto, making me jump. Bridgette stood there with red, puffy eyes, raging. “Why do you care?”
That was a fair question. I knew I had one shot to get her to open up to me. I said a silent prayer. “Bridgette, I know you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But what kind of person would I be to see you hurting the way you are and not try to help?”
“You’d be like my mother,” her voice cracked.
In the crack, I heard the anguish. What had Nina done? Or not done? I could hardly imagine my ditzy, bubbly friend being the awful person her family implied she may have been. Yet, there was no denying the pain I felt emanating from Bridgette. It was like she was begging me to make it better, while wishing I would go away and prove I was just like her mother.Nina, who did you become?
“I’m not your mother, but I would like to be your friend.”
“Friend,” she scoffed. “You just want to impress my dad.”
“I’ve never tried to impress your dad.”
She blinked, stunned.
“Your dad isn’t the kind of man to ask that of me.”
“No, he’s not,” she sniffled.
I held up the plate. “I brought cookies, and I’m told I have a good listening ear. But at any time, if you want me to leave, I will. Please, just give me a chance to help if I can,” I begged—for her sake, not mine.
She nibbled on her lower lip, thinking while she stared at the cookies. “Are those skinny cookies?”
“What are skinny cookies? They sound terrible.”
“They are.” She almost laughed before stopping herself.
“I can promise lots of heavenly empty carbs in these bad boys.”
She hemmed and hawed. “Okay, fine.” She waved me in.
“Good luck in the lair!” Rory called out, laughing hysterically.
It didn’t give me the warm fuzzies. I had to admit, I wasn’t expecting to get this far. I tiptoed across the threshold. I smiled when I noticed the personal touches she had added to Jameson’s old room. On the wall above one of the twin beds hung aPretty in Pinkposter. Above the other bed,The Breakfast Club.
“I love those movies.” EspeciallyPretty in Pink. I hadn’t seen it since watching it in Patrick’s arms one night many years ago.
“I love eighties movies and Molly Ringwald. My dad and I watch them together.”
“That’s fun.” I was happy that Patrick shared the classics with his kiddos.
“Yeah.” She shrugged.
“Do you mind if I sit on the extra bed?”
