Page 77 of Miss Me Not

I didn't see the use in arguing so I followed behind Sarah as she led me to the far side of the salon where they had a specific section set aside just for pedicures and manicures. Forty-five minutes later, both my fingers and toes were lacquered in a deep purple color that almost looked black. I was pretty convinced both were a waste on me, but they made Sarah happy, so I went along with it. I wasn't sure if I had ever made anyone happy before.

***

"So, Mom says your day together went great," Dean said later that night as we talked on the phone.

"Yeah, it did. No thanks to your meddling though. I wanted to seriously hurt you this morning when I opened the door and saw her standing there."

He chuckled in my ear.

"Not funny, dickhead," I said, shooting the phone in my hand a dirty look. "You're lucky I was able to control my inner freak for the day."

"You're not a freak," he said, no longer laughing. "I really wish you'd stop putting yourself down."

"Just keeping it real."

"Well, your reality of yourself doesn't match mine. And I don't like you putting down the girl I like," he said, seriously blurring our friendship line.

"Like as a friend," I reminded him.

He sighed loudly in my ear. "Yes, like as a friend. I'll be there early tomorrow to pick you up," he said, changing the subject.

"Don't you eat in the afternoon?" I asked, confused.

"Thanksgiving with my family is an all-day event. There's going to be football, gorging on food, games, complaining about how much food you've consumed, then more gorging. You get the point. The Jackson clan makes Thanksgiving their beeotch," he said sniggering.

"And you're sure I need to be there for all that? Wouldn't it be better if I was just there for the meal?" I asked hopefully.

"Hell to the no. You're presence is requested for the entire day."

"Fine," I grumbled, not wanting to admit how intimidated I was. I would rather swim with a tank full of sharks than be thrust in a family holiday. How I had gotten roped into it was beyond me. I was slowly beginning to realize that Dean was like my kryptonite. I just couldn't say no to him.

"I'll be there at nine," he said, chuckling softly at my response.

I responded by hanging up. Just because I caved didn't mean I had to go with my tail between my legs.

My phone beeped with a message.

Sweet dreams. D

Not likely, I texted back, still ticked.

You'll have fun. Trust me and stop frowning. D

Right. Almost as fun as sitting in a Justin Bieber concert.

LOL it's good to see you're looking at the positive. See you in the morning. D

Unless I don't answer the door, I threatened.

Chapter fifteen

Donna had already left for the church soup kitchen by the time I woke up the next morning. Thanksgiving was of course a busy day for the church, and I knew from past experiences that Donna would be in her element, running around setting tables, cooking food and taking care of those in need. Thanksgiving was a churchgoer like Donna's, feel-good day of the entire year. Sure, she'd give to Toys for Tots and spend hours at the church, making up hundreds of shoeboxes to send overseas to less fortunate children, who I'm sure just loved the mini boxes of crayons and twenty-page coloring books, versus a warm meal in their bellies, but who was I to judge? At least they were trying. Maybe, just maybe, if things had been different, if I had been different, I would be amongst them, making up goody boxes and patting myself on the back. I often did this. I would play the "what if" game in my head almost as a punishment. What if I had been different as a little girl and didn't resent all the time spent at church? What if I had embraced the lifestyle, integrating myself in all the activities the church offered? How different would my life have turned out? Would I be happier? Of course, like every "what if" game, we'd never know the truth. That was the point. I had chosen my destiny years ago, and now I had to live with it.

By the time Dean showed up, I'd pretty much convinced myself that maybe a day with Donna would have been better than spending the day with the clan of Jackson relatives I was about to meet.

"Wow, you look incredible," Dean said admiringly as he took in my new clothes. He let out a low whistle.

"Thanks," I answered, flushing slightly. I didn't want to admit to him how close I had come to chickening out. My pulse had raced uncontrollably when I left my shapeless, comforting, black clothes in the closet and instead pulled out a pair of my new jeans and one of the sweaters Sarah helped me pick out. I couldn't help grimacing when I studied my reflection in my bedroom mirror. The jeans seemed tighter than I remember them being the previous day, and I know for a fact that the deep plum-colored sweater hadn't hugged my curves quite as much the day before. I missed my safe clothes. My you-can't-see me clothes.

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