His sharp, accusatory tone is an arrow through my heart. I open my mouth to defend myself, but with what? If I put my foster parents through even a fraction of the worry and panic I’d just felt, I deserve censure. “So you made me wait as punishment?”
“No. I assumed you dropped Dwayde off. The minute he told me that he left without telling you—something he knows better than to do—I called.”
“Thank you for that,” I manage to say because Mick could have left me hanging. “May I speak with Dwayde a moment?”
“Not right now. I’m about to take him home.”
“I would just like to—”
“I said not right now. Dwayde needs his family. Not legal advice.”
Wow! That hurt.“Of course,” I say aloud, swallowing to steady my voice. “Please tell Dwayde I’ll call him tomorrow.”
The phone abruptly disconnects and I’m left standing there, still shaking, feeling rejected and lonelier than I can remember feeling since fleeing Springvale.
Growing up, all I ever wanted was a family. Once upon a time, I thought I could have that with the Torreses…and with Mick. Not just the temporary kind that had been on loan to me, but a big, happy family of my very own.
Over the years, I resigned myself to a life with a successful career and good friends. I told myself it was enough. But now I know I’ve only been fooling myself.
I SKIP LUNCH AND TAKE comfort in a nonfat latte instead of the hot fudge sundae I’m craving. At two o’clock, I arrive outside the dress boutique on North Michigan Avenue. Lexie and Jordyn greet me with searching eyes.
“I’m okay,” I assure them before they ask, and fashion a smile that’s as fake as it feels. “We’re here to help you dress shop,” I say to Lexie, “and that’s all I want to think about.”
Knowing me well enough not to push, they let it go at that, but I expect to be grilled later.
As soon as we enter the shop, a striking woman of about forty-five with a sophisticated updo and expertly applied makeup approaches. “Good afternoon, ladies. Welcome to Ellegant. I’m Elle.”
Smart play on her name, I think, as I look around at the gorgeous gowns pinned on size 0 mannequins.
“How may I help you today?”
“We’re looking for something cocktail length,” Lexie informs her.
“What’s the occasion?”
Lexie tucks several strands of her glossy demibob behind her ear. “My birthday next Friday.”
“Happy Birthday!” The store owner gives her a hundred-watt smile. “Where are you celebrating?”
“At the Lemon Lounge.”
“Oh…very nice,” Elle comments, seeming to be impressed that her customer has secured one of the most exclusive party venues in the city. “We have a lovely selection of cocktail dresses.” She turns her gaze to Jordyn and me. “Are you ladies shopping as well?”
“We’re all shopping,” I hear Lexie answer.
“Not me,” I say. “I already have something to wear.”
“What?” Lexie asks skeptically.
“My black dress with the bolero jacket.”
“You wear that tonetworkingfunctions,” she hisses, her fashion sensibilities offended.
“It’s a classic,” I reply. “Plus, I have chandelier earrings that will jazz it up.”
“Come on, Dee,” Lexie cajoles me, “treat yourself to something new.”
I glance over at Jordyn, seeking reinforcement from her because she hates shopping as much as I do. But I find none. “It won’t hurt you to take a look.”
