Page 71 of Show Off

Mom rolls her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, Lana. I’m just saying, that season finale made everyone sit up and notice him. If romance rumors start swirling, it would take some heat off this situation.”

I grit my teeth so hard they squeak. “I won’t use Dal to hide your dirty laundry.”

“Mydirty laundry?” Here’s where she’d quirk one eyebrow if Botox allowed it. “It’s as much your laundry as mine, young lady.”

The knot in my belly gets bigger. She’s got a point. “Let me come up with another idea.”

My mother huffs. “It’s not like I’m suggesting you sleep with someone hideous. You’re attracted to the man. Who wouldn’t be?”

She’s baiting me, laying down treats she knows I can’t resist. I feel myself warming, then want to punch myself in the face. “Whatever may or may not be happening between Dal Yang and myself is too new and uncertain for the public eye.” There’s a canned statement if I’ve ever said one. “I’m not going to use him for PR spin.”

“You wouldn’t have to.” Mom sighs. “But if youhappenedto have a very public fling with Dal, and ithappenedto draw attention away from?—”

“I’ll think about it.”

“He’s quite easy on the eyes, and so volatile,” she continues like I haven’t spoken. “The public loves seeing an angry young man with a sweet, beautiful?—”

“I said I’ll think on it,” I snap. “Stop pushing me.”

Mom goes quiet. Even she knows when to quit.

My gut clenches tight as I consider my options. One thing’s clear to me now. “I need to talk to Dal.”

Her pupils flare. “You’re not going to tell him.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“I might.”

My mother’s jaw clenches. “Let me give you a piece of relationship advice.” She must see doubt in my eyes, because she doubles down. “From a woman who’s been married more than four decades.”

“Okay.” Say what you will about my parents’ marriage, but they’ve held it together a long time.

“Sometimes,” she starts like it’s a talk show, “choosingnotto discuss something is a kindness.”

That doesn’t sound that far from my own philosophy. “Okay.” I turn to the wall, to the fireplace where the clock rests. The one she gave me more than seventeen years ago.

It ticks on the mantle, a time bomb set to explode.

“I want you to have this,” Mom said as she put it in my hands. I stared at the bright gold face. At the jittery second hand, ticking an anxious circle. “I know you’re ten and it’s a funny gift for a little girl, but you’re growing up fast.”

I nodded and tightened my sweaty grip on the wood. “Thank you.”

She watched my face for a quiet moment. “My mother gave it to me the day she asked me to help keep a secret. You remember what I told you?”

Not the secret. She never shared that, not then and not now. “Women keep each other’s secrets,” I whispered.

“That’s right.” Mom beamed, stroking my hair like I’d made her proud. “Very good, Lana.”

I shake myself back to the lecture Mom’s giving now. The one that concludes with these sage words of wisdom.

“Sometimes,” she says, her voice shaking a little as I turn from the clock. “Sometimes, it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.”

* * *

There’sa dog biscuit in my pocket and treats for humans tucked in the tote I grip tightly in one sweaty hand. I walk past the pond on my way to Dal’s house, feeling itchy and unsure of my plan. I covered all my bases, just to have options.

Besides snacks in my tote, I’ve got printouts on some of our next chowder stops, plus a plan for our piece on the gardens withEntertainment Weekly.

Also, I’m not wearing a bra.

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