Page 95 of Thanks for the Friendship
I shake my head. “The only thing she told me was that Sara was like a daughter to her. I can understand that, but she puts her on a pedestal that no one could ever compare to. No one is perfect.”
“Diane lost a baby around the same time Christine had Sara,” he explains. “That’s why Sara means so much to her.”
Oh, my goodness, that’s heartbreaking.
“It’s not a reason to excuse bad behavior, but that’s why she feels this constant need to protect her.”
“How tragic … After Diane left today, I felt terrible. I complained a lot about the constant texts and calls from her, but there was a part of me that liked it. She called me more than my own mother does.”
This reminds me about my conversation with my parents from earlier. “Speaking of my parents, they took it upon themselves to find a buyer for the house,” I exclaim. “Can you believe it? They didn’t even give me a chance to get photos or list it. I have no idea what those two are doing.”
Cal gives me a sympathetic smile. “You’ve had quite a day. Did your parents give you a time frame?”
“Of course not,” I wail. “They’re taking this verbal offer, and when I asked my father if we could wait, he said no.”
Cal pulls me into his lap, his strong arms wrapping around me once again. Silence lands on the room for a few seconds.
“Lila, do you trust me?”
I lean my head back and eye him curiously. “Where did that question come from?”
“Hear me out.”
Something in my stomach stirs. Usually when someone says those words, it’s followed by some grand confession.
“Do you trust me?” His blue eyes lock with mine.
“Yes,” I say, my voice just above a whisper.
He takes his phone out of his pocket and scrolls.
What’s he doing? Is he going to show me a picture? My stomach continues to twist as the anticipation grows.
He pushes a button and puts the phone to his ear.
Seriously? He picks this moment to make a phone call. What the hell is happening?
“Hey. It’s me,” he says, into the phone. “I’m with Lila.”
He turns on the speaker.
“Hi, honey,” a familiar voice says.
Wait—is that?
“Mom?”
“Yes, it’s us.”
My mind is swirling with tons of questions. Why did Cal just call my parents? How did he get their phone number? I’m so confused.
Cal has a gleam in his eyes, a slow grin spreading across his face. I’m still sitting in his lap, and he’s running his fingers over my arm.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Lila, we thought we should start working out the details for the sale,” my mother says.
“Now? Mom what—”
