She took a long sip of her coffee, as though she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me.
“But Dad’s going to be gone even longer than that, isn’t he?”
My parents normally tried to time their business trips so at least one of them would be home with me, and it had been a while since there was a clash like this. I tried to remember the last time both my mom and dad were away. It must have been before my grandma died, because I could recall staying with her for a few days one winter, maybe in freshman year. Either way, I was certain my parents had never disappeared for this long at the same time. Now that I was a senior, I wondered whether I’d be allowed to stay home by myself.
“I know it’s not ideal,” my mom continued. “But your father refuses to change his plans, and my manager made it very clear how important my trip is when he called this morning.”
I zoned out as she began to explain in painstaking detail exactly why her presence in Seattle, or wherever she was going, was so crucial. She worked in sales for a tech company—hardly a matter of life and death. No, but for my parents, it often felt like their jobs were even more important than that.
The thought made me return my attention to the poor little creature lying on the floor a few feet away. If he’d still been with us, listening to my mom talk about fostering strong client relationships probably would have bored him to death anyway. I wasn’t particularly focused on what she was saying, but she continued her one-sided conversation, oblivious. After a while, she seemed to pivot from talking about building trust with stakeholders into something about the trust she was placing in me to finish my college essay while she was away. It was truly impressive how she could bring almost any conversation back to my lack of plans for the future.
“What about the mouse?” I said, interrupting her.
“What about it?”
I waved my hands at it, in case my mom had forgotten it was still lying there. “What are we going to do with him?”
“I’ll put it in the trash when we’re done here.”
“The trash?”
My mom bristled at my stunned response. “Well, it’s not exactly getting a funeral in the backyard, Paige. You’re not five anymore.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’m not concerned about that.” She snapped her fingers at me, making sure she had my full attention. “What I am concerned about are your college applications. I know you haven’t been working on them. And you’ve got your meeting with the career counselor this coming week. Now, obviously I won’t be around to check up on you, but I expect you to get all the applications drafted before the meeting so you can take them along and get feedback.”
“But—” I tried to protest again, and she cut me off even quicker this time.
“What did I say about buts? This is important, Paige. Your future is important. You’ve been putting this off for months, and even though I’m not going to be here, I refuse to let you avoid it for another second.”
I knew there was nothing I could say to win this argument. She was right. Not about the mouse. Hediddeserve a funeral in the backyard. But I had been putting off my college applications and avoiding my mom’s attempts to talk to me about my career plans. Or should I say,herplans for my career. It killed her that I didn’t have my whole life mapped out, like she did. But the more she pressured me into it, the more I wanted to drop out of school and join the circus.
“So, make sure you pack those college admission guides I got you, as well as all your books and homework—”
“What do you mean, pack?”
My mom looked down at me over her glasses. “You didn’t think I was letting you stay here alone for two weeks, did you? No, I’ve arranged for you to stay with that friend of yours...”
I should have known I was being too optimistic about having the house to myself. “You mean, Bonnie?”
“The one with a newborn baby in the house? No, there’s no way you’ll get your homework done with all that noise going on. It’s your other friend. The one who’s named after a color. Amber... Scarlett... Ivory...” She shook her head, giving up. “I don’t know. You’re always going to their house for dinner on Sundays.”
“Gray?” I gasped. “As in Grayson Darling?”
“Yes. That’s the one.”
My mouth hung open in surprise. “Mom, you do remember Gray’s a guy, right?”
“Oh yes, yes, of course, I do. The little boy you used to run around the neighborhood with all the time.”
There was nothing little about Grayson these days, but that wasn’t the kind of thing my mom noticed. Apparently, she was also unaware that Gray had a very big and very bad reputation. It was totally undeserved, but people in Ransom loved nothing more than spreading rumors about Grayson and his brothers: the infamous Darling Devils.
Of course, when they won a hockey game everyone worshipped the ground the three boys skated on, but they generally did so from a distance. I’d seen strangers cross the street to avoid bumping into Reed, Grayson and Parker. I’d even seen people get up and leave our local coffee shop just because they walked in. I couldn’t imagine many people freely sending their daughter into the Devils’ lair for a sleepover. I guessed there were some advantages that came with having parents who were too busy working to take notice of town gossip.
“You know he grew up, don’t you?”
She gave me a pointed look. “I’m aware.”