Page 141 of Waiting on You


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“Sorry I left my scarlet letter at home.”

Well. That was surprising—a literary reference from the Tail.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Gail said. “I can read, you know.” She paused, taking a cookie from the plate and breaking it in half. “I think he’s seeing someone else.”

And of course, Dadwasseeing someone else, namely Mom. Though Colleen saw doom painted all over that one, there was certainly some poetic justice at work.

Gail put half of a cookie in her mouth and chewed. “I know you hate me, Colleen,” she said. “I know I was the other woman. But I love your father. I was very naive ten years ago.”

“Really? Because I think you came out of the womb with a calculator in one hand and a pair of Manolo Blahniks in the other.”

Gail sighed and ate the other half. “Fine. If you want to think of it that way, go ahead. But it hasn’t all been fun, you know. You think I’d choose a guy with two grown kids? You think I wanted to be a slut?”

“Who put the gun to your head, Gail?”

“He didn’t tell me he was married. Not for a long time.”

Shit. That did sound like her father, didn’t it?

“And by then, the damage was done. I was in love with him. He said he was in the process of getting a divorce, and I believed him. And then I got pregnant. I know you don’t think so, but I love Savvi. She’s everything to me.” Much to Colleen’s surprise, Gail’s eyes filled with tears.

“Then why are you trying to make her into a Barbie doll?” Colleen whispered. “The diets, Gail! The cheerleading and the horrible clothes.”

“I want her to be...” Gail’s voice trailed off.

“Pretty?” Colleen said.

“Sheispretty! It’s not that. I want her to...belong. To be popular and happy and fit in. She’s overweight, Colleen, and you and Connor stuffing her full of nachos and pie and cheeseburgers doesn’t help. It just makes me the bad guy. Do you know the statistics on childhood obesity?”

Colleen felt a stab of guilt. “She’s not obese, Gail. She’s chubby.”

“Ten more pounds and she’s medically obese, according to her doctor,” Gail whispered vehemently. “You like to think of me as the evil stepmother, and you do it very well, but the truth is, I’m trying to keep my daughter healthy. I broil her fish and make her salads and take her for hikes and walks. We don’t all have your metabolism.”

“But you can’t make her into your image, Gail. She’s her own person.”

“I know that! I’ve taken her to gymnastics and tap and karate, and the only thing she likes is baseball, which isn’t exactly an aerobic sport. Cheerleading would get her moving, at least.” She grabbed another cookie. “And now she’s stress-eating. And so am I. These are fantastic.” Gail gave a muffled sob, spewing crumbs, and tears spilled over.

Colleen handed Gail a napkin and took out the next batch of cookies, moving slowly. Okay, yeah. Savannah was overweight, and maybe a little more than just chubby. And Colleendidlike to spoil her with the food she never got at home (and so did Connor). Taking her for a swim now and again might be a better way to spend time with their sister, instead of just movies and popcorn and Milk Duds (though if you couldn’t have Milk Duds once in a while, what was the point of living?).

Still, she wasn’t used to being wrong. It was an itchy feeling.

“What can I do to help, Gail?” she asked as Gail polished off the last cookie.

Gail didn’t look at her, only folded up her napkin into a tiny square. “Maybe you could just...put in a good word about me once in a while. With Savannah. I don’t want her to feel like there are battle lines, the O’Rourkes on one side, and me on the other.”

Shit. That was exactly how it had always been, after all. Not that Gail had helped the cause, but still. Connor and Colleen had never befriended the Tail and never wanted to.

Maybe Gail had always clung to Dad not just to prove she was the hottest thing on earth, but because she didn’t have anyone else. And Colleen Margaret Mary O’Rourke, famed for being friends with every living creature in Manningsport, had never once offered friendship.

Colleen cleared her throat. “You bet. You know how much I love Savannah. I’ll make sure she doesn’t feel caught in the middle.” She paused. “And I’ll make sure we throw some vegetables her way, too.”

“Thanks.” Gail wiped her eyes and looked down at the table.

“But let her stay in baseball. She’s so good, Gail. She’s scholarship good. Drop the cheerleading—I’ll take her to kickboxing with me. Maybe Tom Barlow will let her join his boxing club, even though it’s for high school kids. I’ll talk to him.”

“I appreciate that,” Gail whispered. “Can I have more of these?” She pointed to the empty plate.

“Coming up,” Colleen said.

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