said the wrong thing. 'I'm sorry, Mom, but it's true.'
'Arthur is not Leo's son,' she said after another half
minute. 'I haven't said Leo couldn't see him, but he can't
go caling whenever he wants to. He's not my boyfriend.
And he's not Arty's dad.'
My mom had had a lot of boyfriends. She hadn't bothered
to tel me al the reasons why she'd broken up with each of
them, though I had been subjected to the ranting and
raving on occasion when one had realy pissed her off.
When I got older, she'd shared more, though I'd never
asked her to. Now I waited for some revelation about
Leo, some reason that had turned her against him, but she
didn't give me one.
'Arty! Get out of the snack drawer! Have some cereal!'
She sounded tired and cranky.
I knew how that felt. 'I'm going back to sleep, okay?'
'When are you coming down?'
I told her what I'd told Arty, adding, 'I've got stuff going
on.'
on.'
'We'd like to see you. Me and Arty. You could come for
the weekend, Paige. We could make fudge.'
'Mom…'
'Don't say no. Just think about it, okay? We miss you. I
miss you.'
There wasn't anything to say that wouldn't hurt her feelings,
so I sighed. 'Okay. I'l check my calendar.'
'I have to go. Arty just spiled the milk.'
'You know what they say,' I tried to joke. 'Don't cry over it.'
'I'm not crying,' my mother said in a stone-edged voice I
never heard from her.
Then she hung up.
Chapter 26
The flowers came the next day, a bouquet of thirteen red
roses tied with a thick satin ribbon and adorned with
baby's breath. They were delivered early, too, the card in
my mailbox announcing I had a package at the front desk
tucked in amongst the bils the way not too long ago the
notes had appeared. It set my heart to racing the way
those notes always had, but the flowers sunk my guts to
my shoes.
'Someone has a special friend,' Alice said when she
handed me the bouquet with a knowing grin. She leaned
closer. 'I knew it wouldn't take you long, hon.'
I paused with the flowers in my hand, not daring to hold
them too tight unless there were thorns. 'For what?'
'To get one,' Alice said. 'A man.'
Being unable to speak is different than not having words. I
hate not knowing what to say. I goggled at her like an idiot
and puled the flowers closer to my chest. The look on my
