Page 42 of Save the Last Dance
On the other end of the call, Ally could hear a soap opera playing on a blaring television, the violins really swelling.
“Honey, we say things like that to other people. Not to each other.”
Ally swallowed hard. How could Gram see rightthrough her when they weren’t even face-to-face?
“Um. I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean you can put on a happy face for the world, but don’t hedge the truth with the people who love you.”
The stab of guilt worked for a minute. Until Ally realized that knife cut both ways.
“Are you sure about that?” She cracked the window on the car, the unseasonable heat already making the interior stuffy.
“They are words to live by, young lady.”
“Then why haven’t you been answering your phone when I call lately? You didn’t come to the door when Mom and I dropped by last week.” She hoped it was okay to say those things to Gram. Dad said she was fragile and they needed to be careful with what they said to her, but Ally saw a different side of her grandmother. The side that stayed up half the night watching chick movies. The side that decided 1:00 a.m. would be the perfect time to make a batch of divinity as light and airy as Audrey Hepburn.
“In my day, missy, we called that backtalk.” Gram’s voice was stiff with disapproval.
Had her grandmother changed that much in the last few months? Worry gnawed at her. Had she waited this long to talk to Gram only to find out she wasn’t Ally’s friend anymore?
“I just meant that I want to know what’s going on with you because I miss you.” Her voice didn’t break, but the words came out high-pitched and uneven.
“I miss you, too, and I will hear your explanation for the hospital visit when you come stay with me for a few days.”
“Really?” Ally felt a surge of hopefulness that she hadn’t alienated her grandmother. “You mean it?”
“I do not talk to hear myself speak.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ally’s spirits lifted. Gram was old-school. A “yes, ma’am” went a long way to appeasing her. Besides, how mad could she be if she wanted Ally to come hang out? “I can come over today after I finish up a project with a girl from my class.”
She didn’t mention it was for Harvest Fest. She wasn’t sure how Gram would do with reminders of Gramp. It really had been a crap year for both of them.
“Very well. I will endeavor to answer the door in a timely fashion when you arrive.”
Ally laughed as she watched the Tennessee sunshine filter in through the windshield and reveal tiny dust motes in the air. “Awesome. See you then.”
It wasn’t until she disconnected the call that she realized she’d need to come up with something to tell Gram about her scratching. And it had to be good because Gram—even at half-speed—understood her better than either of her parents. She also had a finely tuned bs meter.
That stopped her. What if it turned out she and Gram had more in common than a shared sense of humor and a lot of divinity? Ally was already seeing one psychologist. Maybe she’d end up needing a whole lot more than that.
Grabbing her backpack, Ally figured she’d worry about that later. For now, she was already late to her meeting. Shoving open the door, she almost hit someone.
“Watch it!” a feminine voice snapped at her.
Ally looked up from the car seat to see…Rachel Wagoner.
“Oh.” She blinked, momentarily blinded by yellow and bling. From the yellow designer handbag covered in clear sequins to the jean skirt and yellow ribbon on her long blond braid, Rachel was the most color-coordinated girl Ally had ever seen. “Sorry.”
“I think that’s going to bruise.” Rachel frowned down at her thigh, where Ally must have hit her with the door.
“You came out of nowhere.” Standing, Ally locked her car.
“Not really.” Rachel frowned and pointed to the back of the parking lot near a tree line where the autumn season painted leaves as yellow as Rachel’s clothes. “I just parked in the row behind you.”
Ally easily found the robin’s-egg-blue sports coupe. A cool convertible was really an unfair advantage for a teenage girl since teen boys drooled over cars almost as much as they did girls.
Ethan was no exception.
