place near a bay window. “He told me to have you place it here.”
We do as we're told. “Now for the top,” Mark says. “I'll bolt it in place.”
“Whatever,” she says.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She'sa pretty woman, blond like Quin, but her eyes look dull. Not vacant like Analise's eyes, but not full of energy either.
We place the top on the desk and Mark crawls underneath with his cordless drill and bolts it into place. In the room's light, the mahogany surface gleams. I've brushed on seven coats of satin varnish and sanded with extra-fine paper between applications. I can almost see my reflection.
Mark's finishing up when the front door opens and Quin and some girl walk in. Quin sticks his head into the den. “Hey, Mom. What's up?”
“Your dad's new desk,” she says.
Quin takes the girl's arm and they come into the den. “Let me see.”
I stand aside. I've seen the girl before at school, but I don't know her name. She glances at me, looks nervous, glances away. I wonder what her problem is.
“Sweet,” Quin says over the desk. He looks at me. “You do this?”
“I just helped.”
The girl is jumpy and acts like she wants to bolt. Maybe it's hard for her to be around common people.
Mark takes a final swipe with a clean rag over the top of the desk. “I guess that's it.”
“Spence will be in touch,” Quin's mother says.
We go to the door and I take one final look at the room, the desk and the people. Quin and his mother are talking, but the girl is looking straight at me. Her eyes are wide. She looks for all the world as if she's seeing a ghost.
D ECEMBER 25
“That's
my Christmas present? A new car?”
Mom's hot, madder than I've seen her in a long time, and she's yelling at Dad. A great way to start off Christmas morning.
“Is this how you say thank you, Carla?”
“You bought me a new car for my birthday in June. I've hardly driven it. The tires aren't even dirty. I don't want a new car!” She tosses the keys to her brand-new Lexus onto the floor.
“You'll like this one too. Stop complaining.”
Dad's face looks red, and veins are bulging in his neck. I sit on the sofa, a box with a new sweater open in my lap.
Forget I'm here,
I think.
“What was wrong with my SUV?” Mom yells.
“Did you forget? It was in an accident.”
Uh-oh.
My fault. I glare at my father.
“It was a fender,” Mom says slowly, deliberately. “You had it replaced. Good as new.”
“The car took a wallop and it could have developed problems in the long term.”
“Well, why not wait until then?”
I tune them out and feel a prickle of cold sweat along my upper lip. Dad couldn't know about my accident. Not the version Laurie claims is true. Just because Analise and I were in the same vicinity at the same time doesn't mean I hit her. I swallow hard. If I wasn't afraid it might be true, then I wouldn't have let Laurie take over my life, now, would I? I already hate being involved with her. We've been together every night since school let out, and neither of us has had a good time. She's uptight and bitchy. If I try to touch her, she pushes me away.
I say, “Look, you owe me certain rights if you're going to be my girl.”
She says, “I owe you nothing. Keep your hands to yourself.”
I hate thinking about school starting up again in January and her playing my girlfriend. But I don't know how to get out of it.
The slamming of a door brings me back into the present, to Christmas morning at the Palmer house. Dad's gone; Mom is steaming. I get up, pickthe keys up off the floor. “Hey, I'll trade you for my Mustang.”
She half laughs. “I guess it does seem stupid, doesn't it? How many women wouldn't love a new car for Christmas?”
“Sounds like it's the giver, not the gift,” I say.
She comes over for a hug. “I would rather he'd gotten me something I wanted.”
“What do you want?”
She pulls away. “I don't want
things,
Quin. It's never about
things.”
I don't
We do as we're told. “Now for the top,” Mark says. “I'll bolt it in place.”
“Whatever,” she says.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She'sa pretty woman, blond like Quin, but her eyes look dull. Not vacant like Analise's eyes, but not full of energy either.
We place the top on the desk and Mark crawls underneath with his cordless drill and bolts it into place. In the room's light, the mahogany surface gleams. I've brushed on seven coats of satin varnish and sanded with extra-fine paper between applications. I can almost see my reflection.
Mark's finishing up when the front door opens and Quin and some girl walk in. Quin sticks his head into the den. “Hey, Mom. What's up?”
“Your dad's new desk,” she says.
Quin takes the girl's arm and they come into the den. “Let me see.”
I stand aside. I've seen the girl before at school, but I don't know her name. She glances at me, looks nervous, glances away. I wonder what her problem is.
“Sweet,” Quin says over the desk. He looks at me. “You do this?”
“I just helped.”
The girl is jumpy and acts like she wants to bolt. Maybe it's hard for her to be around common people.
Mark takes a final swipe with a clean rag over the top of the desk. “I guess that's it.”
“Spence will be in touch,” Quin's mother says.
We go to the door and I take one final look at the room, the desk and the people. Quin and his mother are talking, but the girl is looking straight at me. Her eyes are wide. She looks for all the world as if she's seeing a ghost.
D ECEMBER 25
“That's
my Christmas present? A new car?”
Mom's hot, madder than I've seen her in a long time, and she's yelling at Dad. A great way to start off Christmas morning.
“Is this how you say thank you, Carla?”
“You bought me a new car for my birthday in June. I've hardly driven it. The tires aren't even dirty. I don't want a new car!” She tosses the keys to her brand-new Lexus onto the floor.
“You'll like this one too. Stop complaining.”
Dad's face looks red, and veins are bulging in his neck. I sit on the sofa, a box with a new sweater open in my lap.
Forget I'm here,
I think.
“What was wrong with my SUV?” Mom yells.
“Did you forget? It was in an accident.”
Uh-oh.
My fault. I glare at my father.
“It was a fender,” Mom says slowly, deliberately. “You had it replaced. Good as new.”
“The car took a wallop and it could have developed problems in the long term.”
“Well, why not wait until then?”
I tune them out and feel a prickle of cold sweat along my upper lip. Dad couldn't know about my accident. Not the version Laurie claims is true. Just because Analise and I were in the same vicinity at the same time doesn't mean I hit her. I swallow hard. If I wasn't afraid it might be true, then I wouldn't have let Laurie take over my life, now, would I? I already hate being involved with her. We've been together every night since school let out, and neither of us has had a good time. She's uptight and bitchy. If I try to touch her, she pushes me away.
I say, “Look, you owe me certain rights if you're going to be my girl.”
She says, “I owe you nothing. Keep your hands to yourself.”
I hate thinking about school starting up again in January and her playing my girlfriend. But I don't know how to get out of it.
The slamming of a door brings me back into the present, to Christmas morning at the Palmer house. Dad's gone; Mom is steaming. I get up, pickthe keys up off the floor. “Hey, I'll trade you for my Mustang.”
She half laughs. “I guess it does seem stupid, doesn't it? How many women wouldn't love a new car for Christmas?”
“Sounds like it's the giver, not the gift,” I say.
She comes over for a hug. “I would rather he'd gotten me something I wanted.”
“What do you want?”
She pulls away. “I don't want
things,
Quin. It's never about
things.”
I don't
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