She runs her hand over her belly. If you squint, you can make out the first hints of her bump, even though the baby’s still the size of a very small marble. “I’m sure.”
I run a hand over my face and lean against the car to take my weight off my feet. Sky’s inside, adjusting the seat between bouts of hand clapping. The Tylenol took the edge off, but now my good side is sore because it’s doing all the work. “What if I got you whatever you needed for the nursery? The crib, the bouncer, the décor. Bookshelves, paint—”
“Teal. We’re good on all that. Plus, that’s what baby showers are for.”
“But—”
“Teal.” Her voice is firm. “We’re good.”
Even though I know she doesn’t mean it that way, I feel it like a gut punch. Old Teal would’ve snapped at her with something hurtful, to try to dull the pain of what seems like Sage’s rejection of my goodwill. Instead, I hold my breath. I should be counting it, but whatever. When I finally let it out in an annoyed huff, thunder rumbles in the distance.
“We should get the paperwork done before it storms,” I say to Sky, and then I limp toward the main building.
24
The rain slams hard againstthe windshield of the van, blocking the view with a wall of slick gray. We should’ve made it back to Carter’s thirty minutes ago, but we’re traveling at a crawl because of the lack of clarity on the beach highway.
“She loves the car.” Sage keeps her eyes on the road as she says it. “It was good of you to do that.”
Sky texted us five minutes ago to say she made it back to Nadia’s in one piece. I can’t help but faintly smile as I think of the way she drove out of the dealership parking lot, her honey brown hair flying straight up through the open top like a troll doll.
“Teal?”
“Yeah?” I won’t look at her when she talks. I know I’m being a bitch, but I need time to get over this. And time to figure out a way to make things up to her, too. Growing her dahlias just isn’t enough.
“Thereissomething you can buy…if you want to.”
I turn my gaze to her fast. “Sure. Whatever you want.” Iwince. “But, like, within reason. I can’t afford to buy you a house right now or anything.” I frown thoughtfully. “Maybe a down payment for one, though.”
Sage laughs as she pulls into Carter’s driveway, where his car is already parked. I think I might see him peeking at us through the window, but maybe it’s just some weird shadows this hard rain is causing. “You really think I’d ask you to buy me a house?”
“Maybe a down payment,” I say defensively, crossing my arms.
Her smile is warm. “Okay, before I tell you what it is, you have to promise me you’ll get it. Okay?”
This time my frown is from confusion. “Um. Why would I need to promise that before I buy the damn thing? What the hell is it?”
She shakes her head. “Promise, Teal.”
“What is it, Sage? Do you want money for something bad?” I rack my brain. “Debt? Is Tenn addicted to gambling?”
“No!” Now she’s cracking up like this is some kind of joke.
“Did you piss off the mafia?”
She snorts as she giggles. “Yeah, that’s it. I pissed off the very prevalent presence of mafia organizations we have here in Cranberry, Virginia.”
“Well, we’re not that far from Philly, or Jersey, or even the city for that matter!”
Her laughter finally calms down enough for her to speak. “No. Not the mafia.”
I wait for her to explain it—or even give a hint—but she doesn’t back down. We have a miniature staring contest for almost a whole minute before I sigh. “Fine. I promise I’ll get the thing. As long as it’s not a hit man, I guess.” I pause with a thoughtful frown. “Well, depending on who you want dead, I might consider a hit man.”
She grabs her purse from under her seat—an old-looking Kate Spade; mental note: buy Sage a new purse, too—and pulls out a folded flyer. She hands it to me with one raised eyebrow.
I know there is a very good chance this isn’t mafia-related, but it kind of feels like we’re doing some kind of shady deal. I slowly unfold the paper in silence as she watches, fully expecting one of those folded paper snakes to bounce out or some shit. But the only thing that is revealed are letters, words, and when I read them, I glance up at her with an incredulous look on my face.
“A leather-handbag-making class.”
