Page 16 of The Promise in Poppies
Donna hopped off the bed and paced the room, twisting the phone in her hand until she couldn’t stand another second of silence. Stopping abruptly on the balcony, she bit her bottom lip and jabbed the redial button.
“I know, I know. Don’t be mad,” Stephanie rambled after answering on the third ring. “I should’ve called.”
“I was starting to worry.” Donna could hear the motherly admonition in her voice but was too relieved to care about maintaining a more reserved response.
“I’m sorry,” Stephanie said, sounding sincere. “I lost track of the time. I’ve never had a whole apartment to myself before. And…” Her voice trailed off, taking on a more apologetic tone when she admitted, “I got sidetracked trying on all your clothes. It’s like you’re renting out your closet to someone who actually has taste,” she teased. “I’ve never seen you in anything other than jeans or yoga pants. How come you never wear any of this other stuff?”
“That’s a wardrobe from another life.”
“Well, I bet you looked hot.”
“A hot mess. Christian Louboutins are hard to walk in when you’re hammered.”
“Good point. I’ve sprained my ankle too many times mixing high heels and Hairy Navels.”
“Speaking of,” Donna said, taking advantage of the segue. “How was tonight’s meeting?”
Her heartbeat quickened at the unusually long pause. “Steph?” she prompted.
A loud, resigned sigh filled the speaker. “I didn’t go. And before you get all lecturey, I know I shouldn’t ditch. I’ll go tomorrow. Cross my heart.”
“You’ll go tonight. There’s a seven-thirty meeting at Marina Bible Church.”
Another sigh. “Fine. I’ll go. But that meeting always has the worst snacks.”
“You should’ve thought of that two hours ago. Wasn’t it Sharon’s turn to bring snacks tonight?”
Stephanie groaned. “Yeah. And she said she was baking those fudgey nut brownies I like. Darn. See what happens when you’re not here to keep me in line?” Her tone was playful, but Donna couldn’t help the twinge of guilt. Steph had missed a meeting, but it could have been so much worse.
“Call me the second the meeting ends, okay?” She might still be at dinner with Luke and Cassie, but she needed to make sure Steph followed through this time. “It might not seem like a big deal to miss one or two, but consistency is important.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, and when they finally got off the phone, the whispering voice in the back of her mind grew louder, its accusatory tone unmistakable.
If she didn’t want to be a hypocrite, she knew exactly what she needed to do. And it required another trip to Jack’s Diner.
CHAPTER10
CASSIE
Cassie stood off to the side, watching her mother angle the stainless steel carafe beneath the frothing wand for the third time that morning. The antique copper espresso machine hummed as pressure built, then released when Donna turned the knob, expelling hot steam into the cold milk. With practiced, measured movements, Donna mimicked Cassie’s frothing technique, creating a perfect pillowy cloud.
“Hey, that looks pretty good.” Eliza peered over Donna’s shoulder, balancing the tray of warm lemon-glazed biscotti at her hip. “Much better than the last time.”
“Who would’ve thought frothing milk would require Olympic-level skill?” Donna teased, briefly taking her eyes off her task. Unwittingly, she lowered the carafe half an inch, and the tip of the frothing wand bubbled on the surface, spurting and spewing milk.
“Look out!” Eliza cried, laughing as Donna fumbled with the knob, cutting off the supply of steam.
Both women laughed at the mess of splattered milk and foam, and Cassie marveled at the lighthearted, carefree sound.
How many times had she prayed for a moment like this one? A moment of pure, silly fun with her mother. A moment without turmoil, tension, or tainted by too much alcohol.
At dinner last night, they’d almost seemed like a normal family, brainstorming possible baby names and decorating ideas for the nursery. Not once did she worry her mother would order a bottle of wine and consume the entire thing, culminating in a drunken scene.
Even more unexpectedly, her mother had taken a call during dinner, and when she returned, she’d told them all about a young woman named Stephanie. When she spoke, her mother’s eyes glinted with affection, her care and concern for the girl apparent in every syllable.
For a brief, embarrassing moment, a wave of envy had washed over her, shadowing their pleasant evening. Her mother obviously shared a bond with this girl that she could never fully understand, a disheartening thought. But she’d quickly dismissed the unwelcome realization, concentrating on the present truth: her mother was here now, with her, making up for lost time.
