Page 4 of Suits and Spark Plugs

Painting dreams took a back seat to textbooks, and the hours rushed by as I read the assignments and planned out my week in scrupulous detail. There was no room for failure if I stuck to the plan, no matter how rigid.

CHAPTER TWO

Iwas surprised to find my mom in the kitchen the next morning when I came down bleary-eyed and wishing for more sleep. She was standing at the sink holding a mug, steam rising out of it while she stared out the window. Her dark hair, the color of a cocoa bean, was becoming streaked with gray, and her face drooped from the same lack of sleep I was experiencing. Always curvy, she’d lost weight and seemed too thin in her skirt and button-up shirt.

“You going in late today?” I asked with forced cheer as I entered the small room.

Her head popped up and she managed a smile, although it didn’t reach her brown eyes. Mom used to wear makeup and dress stylishly. It was one way she and Sadie were alike. She took a lot of joy in getting dolled up and making the most of her large eyes and curvy figure. Now her outfits were more about functionality, and her eyes had lost some sparkle. Only a small amount of mascara marked her efforts in preparing for the day.

“Morning, Liv. Mr. Lawson had meetings out of the office this morning and I’m taking advantage.” Guilt made her cheeks pink, and without forethought I went to her and wrapped her in a hug. The scent of her peach herbal tea drifted up, comforting and familiar.

“Don’t feel guilty for being a little bit late to work. I’m sure Mr. Lawson won’t mind.” Mom had worked for the Lawson Insurance Firm for as long as I could remember. She was a solid employee and kept things running smoothly for them.

Mom hugged me back, briefly letting our foreheads press together, but I felt the tension in her body, the way she held herself slightly away from me. It hurt. There was a time when I’d had more hugs than I’d wanted.

“You’re sweet, honey. Would you like some breakfast? I’m making toast, but I could fry up an egg or two.” Mom set down her mug and went to open the fridge.

“No, I’m good.” I wasn’t much of a breakfast person these days.

“Sadie will be up soon. I could make her something.” Her voice was muffled by the fridge door she was standing behind.

“Sadie leaves for school at 7:15. She’s been gone for a while,” I replied in a gentle voice. “She usually just grabs a granola bar or something.”

“Oh, of course.” Mom stood and shut the door quickly just as her toast popped up. “Where’s my head?”

“Probably in a million different places.” I smiled kindly.

“How’s this Blaine you’ve been dating?”

Mom’s slender fingers pulled the toast out by the tips, careful not to get burnt. I watched as she spread the butter, sparking memories as the silly poem she used to sing to me flooded my mind.

I don’t mean to brag

I don’t mean to boast

But I love lots of butter

On my hot, fresh toast.

A nostalgic smile tugged at my lips. “Blaine is great. I’m going down to Springfield tonight. He’s taking me to see a show.”

“What kind of show?”

“The theatre with an R-E kind. He said to dress nice.” I knew my voice had risen with my excitement. I didn’t get down to Springfield often, and I was thrilled that Blaine had invited me. So far any time we’d spent together had been in and around Oak Hills. Even more exciting was the face that I’d never attended the theatre before. I couldn’t wait to experience something new.

Mom looked at me with raised eyebrows and a hint of the teasing smile she used to have. “Well, that sounds fun. What are you going to wear?”

I looked down at my staunchly functional pajamas and back up to Mom, happy to see her smile had warmed into something more natural. “I suppose this won’t do?”

She chuckled. “No. But I might have something that will.”

My smile grew. My mom’s closet was a treasure trove that I’d long wished to dive into. “Really?”

“Yes. What time are you going?”

“I need to leave here around six.”

Mom’s brows lowered as she glanced at the clock on the microwave. “That’s before I get home from work. I have ten minutes before I need to leave if I want to beat Mr. Lawson into the office. Let’s make this happen.” She shoved her toast into her mouth and led the way out of the kitchen and up to her room. “What’s your plan for hair and makeup?” she asked, forgoing manners and speaking around the crunchy, buttery bread.

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