girl’s day out. It’s Chocolate Affaire weekend.”
I’d been so involved with Guy I had nearly forgotten about the Chocolate Affaire.
“Breakfast, a little candy shopping, and then mud baths at that new day spa in Scottsdale we’ve been dying to try. How does that sound?”
It sounded wonderful. But it wasn’t the kind of treatment normally afforded prisoners on death row. She was up to something.
“Um, good,” I said softly, as I waited for her to take it back and begin hurling accusations at me.
“Great. Get dressed.” She was smiling when she left the room.
The Chocolate Affaire was Glendale’s tribute to all things chocolate. A carnival set up in Murphy Park with rides, music, and loads of vendors selling everything sweet, gooey, and chocolate.
In the car, on the way to breakfast, Suze chatted as if all the drama of the past week had never occurred; I’d never kissed Guy in the back of the bus; I’d never been kicked off the mathletes; I’d never snatched the letter sent by the school and hidden it—wait a minute. She didn’t know about that one. I still had a few secrets, thank goodness.
It was as if we’d hopped into the old Wayback Machine and cruised to a time before the mathlete challenge, back to the good old days when we were friends.
I didn’t buy her softened attitude for one minute. I sat there on pins and needles, contributing very little to the conversation—single syllables and soft grunts, as I waited for her to pounce.
I’d seen it all in an old sitcom, the one where Vanessa comes home thinking she’s put one over on old Mom and Dad, and they greet her at the door smiling, gently feeding her the rope she’d use to hang herself: “You enjoy the concert, dear?”her mother asked. “It was amazing. My favorite group on stage right before my eyes. A dream come true.” “You neglected to tell us your favorite group was performing in… Baltimore!” “But, but…”
No way was I going to let the fate that befell poor Vanessa happen to me. The key was to say as little as possible. Grudging single syllables was all my mom was going to get:
Yes. No. Really?
She wouldn’t get enough rope out of me to hang a flea.
We went to Sylvia’s, our favorite breakfast spot. Like a lot of the restaurants in town, Sylvia’s got into the Chocolate Affaire spirit by adding once yearly chocolate treats to their menu. My favorite was the chocolate chocolate chip pancakes. This super sweet delight was enough to put a big grin on my face.
Guys think diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Ha! Trust me, it’s chocolate.
“There you are,” Suze said when she saw me smiling into my plate. She was grinning at me as if she’d just discovered a national treasure. “I was beginning to think Little Miss Sour Puss was going to be with me all day. So glad you could make it. Your friend was a lousy companion.”
My smile widened as finally I relaxed. She wasn’t setting me up. She was truly trying to reconnect. I let out a soft sigh, as the cloud that had hung over the morning lifted and we started down the road back to friendship.
Don’t get me wrong, I realize she’s a parent, fully capable of lulling me into a false sense of confidence before swooping in and cutting my legs out from under me. But I didn’t think that was happening here. And if it was, she was even better than Vanessa’s parents.
It was mostly frivolous girl talk—fashion, hair styles, the pop star who’d gone off the deep end. Then suddenly her expression turned serious.
“Megan, I owe you an apology.”
Uh-oh. Is that the sound of the other shoe dropping?
She obviously didn’t owe
me
an apology. My antennae immediately went up.
“For what?” I said, as I searched her face for tell-tale signs of what was to come.
“For not seeing your side of things.”
“Uhh… Okay. Apology accepted.” I planted a fake smile on my lips, my eyes diving to my plate as I pretended to concentrate on the remains of a
I’d been so involved with Guy I had nearly forgotten about the Chocolate Affaire.
“Breakfast, a little candy shopping, and then mud baths at that new day spa in Scottsdale we’ve been dying to try. How does that sound?”
It sounded wonderful. But it wasn’t the kind of treatment normally afforded prisoners on death row. She was up to something.
“Um, good,” I said softly, as I waited for her to take it back and begin hurling accusations at me.
“Great. Get dressed.” She was smiling when she left the room.
The Chocolate Affaire was Glendale’s tribute to all things chocolate. A carnival set up in Murphy Park with rides, music, and loads of vendors selling everything sweet, gooey, and chocolate.
In the car, on the way to breakfast, Suze chatted as if all the drama of the past week had never occurred; I’d never kissed Guy in the back of the bus; I’d never been kicked off the mathletes; I’d never snatched the letter sent by the school and hidden it—wait a minute. She didn’t know about that one. I still had a few secrets, thank goodness.
It was as if we’d hopped into the old Wayback Machine and cruised to a time before the mathlete challenge, back to the good old days when we were friends.
I didn’t buy her softened attitude for one minute. I sat there on pins and needles, contributing very little to the conversation—single syllables and soft grunts, as I waited for her to pounce.
I’d seen it all in an old sitcom, the one where Vanessa comes home thinking she’s put one over on old Mom and Dad, and they greet her at the door smiling, gently feeding her the rope she’d use to hang herself: “You enjoy the concert, dear?”her mother asked. “It was amazing. My favorite group on stage right before my eyes. A dream come true.” “You neglected to tell us your favorite group was performing in… Baltimore!” “But, but…”
No way was I going to let the fate that befell poor Vanessa happen to me. The key was to say as little as possible. Grudging single syllables was all my mom was going to get:
Yes. No. Really?
She wouldn’t get enough rope out of me to hang a flea.
We went to Sylvia’s, our favorite breakfast spot. Like a lot of the restaurants in town, Sylvia’s got into the Chocolate Affaire spirit by adding once yearly chocolate treats to their menu. My favorite was the chocolate chocolate chip pancakes. This super sweet delight was enough to put a big grin on my face.
Guys think diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Ha! Trust me, it’s chocolate.
“There you are,” Suze said when she saw me smiling into my plate. She was grinning at me as if she’d just discovered a national treasure. “I was beginning to think Little Miss Sour Puss was going to be with me all day. So glad you could make it. Your friend was a lousy companion.”
My smile widened as finally I relaxed. She wasn’t setting me up. She was truly trying to reconnect. I let out a soft sigh, as the cloud that had hung over the morning lifted and we started down the road back to friendship.
Don’t get me wrong, I realize she’s a parent, fully capable of lulling me into a false sense of confidence before swooping in and cutting my legs out from under me. But I didn’t think that was happening here. And if it was, she was even better than Vanessa’s parents.
It was mostly frivolous girl talk—fashion, hair styles, the pop star who’d gone off the deep end. Then suddenly her expression turned serious.
“Megan, I owe you an apology.”
Uh-oh. Is that the sound of the other shoe dropping?
She obviously didn’t owe
me
an apology. My antennae immediately went up.
“For what?” I said, as I searched her face for tell-tale signs of what was to come.
“For not seeing your side of things.”
“Uhh… Okay. Apology accepted.” I planted a fake smile on my lips, my eyes diving to my plate as I pretended to concentrate on the remains of a
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