Page 55 of Last First Kiss
It’snot THAT bad
Alejandra 11:44 a.m.:
DID YOU FIGHT THE RIBBON???
Clara 11:44 a.m.:
You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d block you right now
Alejandra 11:46 a.m.:
i am cute
and you miss me
Clara 11:46 a.m.:
…maybe
Alejandra 11:47 a.m.:
i’ll be done around four. i can’t wait to see you!!!
Clara 11:47 a.m.:
HURRY!
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and when I look up, Cathia and Diana are at the threshold, watching me with mischievous grins.
“Well, well, who’s got our Clari looking so smitten?” Mama C nudges Diana.
Diana leans against the counter. “Oh, no one, just her giiiiirrrlfriieeeend!” She flutters her eyelashes.
Heat rushes to my face. “Shut up,” I say through a nervous laugh.
“You should have seen them at rehearsal on Sunday.” Diana grins. “They could barely keep their hands off each other, sneaking around and making out all over my house like a couple of teenagers.”
I nearly faint on the spot when I catch Cathia’s confused expression. The last thing she’d heard was that itwas fake, and now this? We’re giving the poor woman whiplash.
“Is that so?” She raises an eyebrow.
Diana nods, and Cathia shoots me a look—one that clearly says,We’ll be talking about this later.
After lunch, we head back to the living room to finish making the centerpieces. Diana gives me one more chance at the bows, which goes about as well as you’d expect. My loops are lopsided, my tails uneven, and I manage to glue my fingers together at least once.
Eventually, Cathia gently steers me toward the flower arrangements instead. “Try this,” she says, handing me a bundle of peonies and eucalyptus. Surprisingly, I’m pretty good at it. Granted, Diana has already precut the fake flowers, and there’s an example sitting right in front of me, but still.
Before long, we decide this is about as good as we’ll do today. We don’t end up making all thirty centerpieces, but we get twenty-two done, which we’re counting as a win.
When Cathia and I kiss Diana goodbye and head toward my car, my heart picks up because I can feel it coming. There’s a conversation waiting for me the moment the car doors shut behind us, and I can’t avoid it for the hour drive back to Stanwood.
Sure enough, we’re barely out of Diana’s driveway when Cathia says, “So ... are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Alejandra, or should I start guessing?”
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter. “What do you mean?”
Cathia lets out a soft snort, more amused than harsh. “Come on, don’t play with me. Last I heard, this whole thing was pretend.”
I glance at her. Her gaze is steady, a little sharper than usual. It throws me. She’s not usually one to ask or press. Most of the time, she lets things be. But I guess it’s different when it involves your kid and someone you raised as your own. She’s not just curious; she’s making sure we’re okay.
