Page 69 of Fresh Canvas
Waving me off, she sputtered, “Val? As inRusso?”
"Yes, Mom. As in Russo.”
“But I thought you hated him!” Mom could have caught flies in her gaping mouth.
“I did. But it turns out the man I hated never existed. The whole jerk act was only covering up a big ‘ol softie.”
“I guess this is a moment where I’ll need to have faith in your judgment, sweetie.” Mom spun her wedding ring in circles. “Doeshehappen to be allergic to cats?”
I laughed. “I don’t think so. And you’ve gotta stop with the cat weaponizing.”
“Fine, I trust you.” She sighed, then asked, “Is Val okay with thewholesituation? Ryan and Anthony, I mean?”
Heat radiated from my chest. “Yes.”
“Oh honey! That’s wonderful.” Mom nestled further into the chair, folding her hands across her soft stomach as I unpacked. “Okay, go on. Tell me all about him.”
Later that evening, I lay on the couch, navigating my TV subscription menu. I had quickly learned that Mr. Fluff Buttons was a never-ending parade of audacity, demanding the space by my feet. Mom had gone to bed early, even though it was only about eight PM. Seconds ticked by as I searched for something to watch before my bowl of ice cream melted.
No one likes cold soup.
I foundmy favorite sitcom,Whisper Harbor. Pressing play, I nestled farther underneath Val’s jacket. Ice cream puddled on my tongue as I watched the hilarious town spread gossip about each other. A few moments later, my phone vibrated.
VAL GRUMPELSTILTSKIN: I see you’re avoiding me.
AMANTHA: I’m not avoiding you! Didn’t you get my text earlier?
VAL GRUMPELSTILTSKIN: Relax, I’m messing with you.
Mr. Fluff Buttons startled off the couch as I tucked my knees to my chest with a small laugh. An ellipsis appeared again. I couldn’t take Val seriously with that ridiculous contact name, so I edited it and waited for him to finish typing.
VAL: I missed you today.
My heart skipped a beat.
AMANTHA: I missed you too.
The phone lit up, my quiet ringtone indicating a call from Val was coming through.
“Hello?”
Val’s voice sounded rumbly and soft. “So, if I understood your text, you arenotsick—you’re just too obsessed with me to keep your cool in public?”
I decided to answer a question with a question. “So, if I understood the message fromyournote, you loved our time together and think I sleep like a perfectly quiet angel?”
“Yeah, if angels helped guide ships through dense fog.”
“Shut up, Russo.” My cheeks began to ache from smiling so wide.
“How long do you think you’ll be obsessed with me, err, I mean, sick for?”
“Why do you ask?”
A pause. “Because I’d like to see you again soon.Verysoon.”
My breath caught, the line falling silent.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I’m still getting used to you saying things like that to me.”
