Page 260 of Dark Love

Not good.

So not good.

“Your mother?” Imogene’s body settles a bit, but her hands keep trembling.

“She likes to show up unannounced on occasion to check on me.” More likely, she wants to meet Max.

“Dahlia, are you home?”

I wish I wasn’t. Though she’d probably go house to house looking for Max if I wasn’t. “We’re in the kitchen.” In deference to Imogene’s stress level, I keep my voice as low as possible while shouting to Mom.

“We? Do you have a man over?”

Mom! What if I did? Though Max would probably laugh it off, since I don’t doubt his mother would do the same.

She freezes as soon as she steps into the kitchen. “That’s not Max.”

“This is my friend Imogene.”

Mom completely ignores Imogene even as her eyes move back and forth between the two of us. “Have you developed an eating disorder again? Your father was wrong. You shouldn’t have moved out. You weren’t ready.”

“I never had an eating disorder.”

“What do you call what you did in high school then? And why does your friend look like she hasn’t eaten in months?”

“A diet.” I wasn’t trying to kill myself by losing weight.

“That was not a diet. That was you trying to lose weight to shrink your chest. By the time you were done, you looked like a stick.” My mother’s haunted eyes stare at Imogene, but she’s seeing me.

“Mom, Imogene doesn’t have an eating disorder. And I didn’t have one either.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I love food!” Imogene barely manages to force a comforting smile. “I just… didn’t have access to food for a while.”

There’s no way Imogene wants to have that conversation with my mother, nor do I. “Imogene was homeless.” Which is actually sort of the truth.

“Oh. Oh. Well then, let’s get you something more substantial than cookies and tea.”

Which is hysterical, because Mom lives on cookies and tea.

“Your father is bringing in the groceries, but I’m sure Dahlia has something in her refrigerator.” Mom starts to walk over to the fridge and stops. “If you need a place to live, Imogene, we have a guest house you can use until you get on your feet.”

And that’s pure Mom. She’s thoughtless and pushy, but she’ll never turn away from a person in need.

“I’ve got a place now, but thank you,” Imogene whispers with tears in her eyes.

“It’s a really nice guest house. Dahlia lived there for years.”

Way too many years.

“Your fridge is full?”

Wait, Mom said groceries. Why does everyone think I need them to go shopping for me? “It is.”

“And there’s meat in it. When did you start eating meat?”

“You were a vegan?” Imogene’s hand settles a bit.

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