She’s dressed in a sweater and jeans. A touch of mascara darkening her lashes. “Where are we going? I didn’t think we had any plans today.”
“We didn’t…until I remembered I need things for my sleepover with Abby.” She runs her fingers through a strand of hair and mutters something under her breath.
“What was that?” She only talks like that when she’s not ready for me to hear whatever she wants me to buy. We go through this all the time, you’d think she’d stop.
“I said and to find you a dress for Friday night.” She turns and exits the room to avoid an argument.
There are a ton of dresses in my closet. I don’t need a new one. I throw the blankets off me and hurry over to make sure I’m not lying to Lexi…or myself. The hangers scrape against the rod and I’m beginning to think I should have had coffee before going on this endeavor.
That one is frumpy. Too bright. None of the dresses can pass for a date night dress. A black one catches my eye and I pull it off the hanger. I haven’t worn this one in years. I wonder if it still fits.
I change from my pajamas into the dress. It’s a little snug, but it’ll pass. My steps are slow as I walk into Lexi’s room.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why? It’s an appropriate length and goes with heels I already have.”
“Mom.” She covers her face with one hand and shakes her head. “You look like you’re going to a funeral. Is that the message you want to send Peter on Valentine’s of all days?”
I move to her full-length mirror on her closet door. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s not that good, either.” She mutters loud enough for me to hear. “Look, I was told to make sure you buy a dress you love today. I’m not going to break that agreement.”
She was told? “Who did you make this agreement with?”
“Peter.” She shrugs and reaches into her bag, pulling out a card. “He said to get what I need for the sleepover and buy you a dress. Don’t freak out, he told me not to go wild.”
I reach for the card in her hand and she yanks it back.
“We can’t let him pay for our things. I have a job.”
“Mom, he knows that. He’s trying to help.”
Clearly, I’m not going to win this argument with my teenage daughter. I turn on my heel and march back to my room. My phone is on my nightstand and when I reach for it, there’s a message from Peter.
Peter
Good morning gorgeous. I didn’t want to wake you. Have fun today.
Instead of texting him back, I hit the button to call him. It rings four times before he answers.
“We cannot use your card to go shopping. What were you thinking giving a fifteen-year-old your credit card?”
There’s a noise coming from the other end of the line. At first, I think it’s wind or something, but then I realize. He’s…laughing.
“Lexi is responsible. I have zero worries giving her my card. I would have given it to you, if I thought you would actually take it.”
“Because you know?—”
He cuts me off. “I want to do this for you. I know you have a job and all that jazz, but let me do this for you. Consider it a Valentine’s gift for both you and Lexi.”
“It’s too much, Peter. You’ve already done so much for us.”
“Because I wanted to. Please, let me have this. If it’ll make you feel any better, you can pay for the wine.”
“Um, no. You get that with the tickets for the event.”
“How do you know?”
