27

Geneva

Geneva went into the kitchen and started tearing up lettuce for a salad. That would make her mom happy. Maybe helping with dinner and stuff was a tactic she should take—start doing more stuff without being asked, to show her mom how she could handle things, forcing her mom to realize she wasn’t just a frivolous teenager.

Her mother came home and took a leftover casserole out of the fridge. “I’m glad it worked out that we have this tonight. It’s too hot to cook. I don’t know why I always forget about this burst of hot weather in the fall.”

They moved around the kitchen, Geneva chopping veggies for the salad, Hadley arranging the casserole in a container to microwave when Geneva’s father got home.

The doorbell rang. Her mother stopped as if she’d been shot. She looked upset, a little scared even.

“What’s wrong?” Geneva asked.

“The only people who come by without texting first are Faith and UPS—”

“Why are you so upset about that?” Geneva giggled. “You should see your face.”

“Faith was just over here a few days ago. She offered me a ridiculously expensive gift certificate for a spa, and it made me uncomfortable. I don’t know her that well, and I—”

The bell rang a second time.

“I’ll get it.” Geneva skittered out of the room, headed toward the entryway. As she put her hand on the door, she felt her mother right behind her. Geneva opened the door.

“Hi, sweetie,” Faith said.

Stepping in front of Geneva, Hadley spoke, her voice too loud and too cheery. “Hi, Faith. What can I do for you?”

Faith lifted up the small shopping bag she was holding in her right hand. “Steaks. I have four beautiful, grass-fed ribeye steaks.” She raised her other hand, although not quite as far since the bag in that hand appeared heavier. “Wine. Deli potato salad and bakery-fresh chocolate chip cookies.

Geneva’s mouth watered at the thought of cookies.

“I already—”

Faith interrupted Hadley. “It’s so hot, but it is still technically summer, so we shouldn’t be surprised.” She laughed. “A perfect evening for a barbecue. We said we should get together for dinner again, and now I’ve saved you the trouble of cooking. You like Zinfandel, right?”

“We already have dinner started,” Hadley said.

“Stick it in the fridge. I’m sure it’s not as good as a beautifully grilled steak. I can smell it already.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Hadley said. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Geneva asked.

Without turning, Hadley said, “Geneva, can you go check on the…”

Of course her mother couldn’t think of a way to finish the sentence. She wasn’t a very good liar. Geneva wanted to laugh, but she could sense the annoyance seeping out of her mother. She bit her lip and tried to focus on the trees behind Faith. But even though she tried not to meet Faith’s gaze, she felt those exotically defined eyes staring at her, lips in a tiny smile, as if the two of them shared a secret.

Why was her mother being such a pain? Steak would be awesome. Way better than leftover casserole. And they could even add the salad she’d just made. Two salads never hurt anyone. She wondered if she would get a small glass of wine. With Faith sitting at the table, her parents wouldn’t want to get into a discussion about it, so they would make faces but still dribble wine into a glass for her, even though it wasn’t a special occasion.

“Steak sounds awesome,” Geneva said, eager to fill the uncomfortable silence. Her mother was not going to be able to come up with a good excuse for getting rid of her just so she could be rude to Faith. She knew she was being a pain, but the dinner sounded amazing, and what was the big deal? It wasn’t as if they had something important planned.

“As I said, we’ve already started dinner. It’s really better if you get in touch first before dropping by.” Her mother started to close the door.

Faith laughed. “Seriously? I thought this was a friendly neighborhood.” She sighed and took a step closer to the doorway. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to sound like a whiner. It’s just that I’d really love to spend more time together, and we said we were going to. I thought this would be a wonderful surprise.”

“But we—”

Faith interrupted. “You’re kind of hurting my feelings.”

Geneva felt a stab of annoyance. What was her mother’s problem? Faith was probably lonely. She didn’t have a family, and she worked all alone out of her house.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” Hadley said. “But I’m not a very spontaneous person. I would enjoy it more if we made plans in advance.”

Faith sighed. “Okay. What’s a good day for you?”

“Mom! Why can’t we barbecue steak? It’s not going to be any good on some other day. And she can’t eat four steaks all by herself.”

“A very practical woman,” Faith said.

“Geneva, please go to your room. I’ll handle this.”

“There’s nothing to handle. She brought over a fantastic dinner, and I would love steak. I bet Dad would too.”

“Geneva!”

Geneva took a few steps back. She was in trouble now, but she was not going to walk away. Her mother was being awful. She couldn’t understand why she was so cruel and so ungrateful.

“I really appreciate the offer,” Hadley said. “Just text me next time, okay?”

Faith blinked rapidly, wiping away the tears that had slid across her eyes. “Since I’m right here, what’s a good day? Tomorrow? Or is the weekend better?”

“I don’t know. I have to check my calendar.”

“Can I go to Faith’s house and eat steak tonight?” Geneva said.

“I asked you to go to your room.”

Geneva said nothing. She wasn’t going to her room, and it was unlikely her mother would make her. How could she even accomplish that? Drag her by her ankles? Geneva was used to doing what her parents said, but she was becoming increasingly aware that they had no way to actually make her do a lot of the things they asked.

“Faith, I’m really sorry. You’ve truly caught me at a very bad time. It was a very thoughtful gesture, but I’m sure the steaks will freeze. The potato salad will keep for a few days, and you’ll be able to finish it. Thank you for coming by. We’ll catch up soon.”

Geneva stared in amazement as her mother closed the door right in Faith’s sad and shocked-looking face.

Hadley turned and walked quickly toward the kitchen. That was also a shock. Geneva had expected a lecture for contradicting her mother’s wishes, maybe even being sent to her room, or a restriction from her phone for arguing, especially in front of someone else. Her mother did not like public disagreements.

She followed her mother to the kitchen. “Why were you so mean to her?” Again, she expected a lecture, a list of all the things she’d done wrong over the past ten minutes.

“I don’t like being caught by surprise.”

“You’re no fun.”

Hadley shrugged.

“You really hurt her feelings. And she spent all that money on—”

“She needs to stop spending money on me and assuming we’re better friends than we are.”

“Geez. I don’t get you. Not at all.”

“It happens,” Hadley said. “She’s smothering me.”

“Because she suggested a barbecue? How is that smothering?”

“I don’t feel like talking about this,” Hadley said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t.” Her mother picked up her phone off the counter. “Thank you for making the salad. Your dad will be home in about fifteen minutes, so you can go chat with Becca or do a bit of your math homework before dinner. I think we’ll go out for ice cream after. Doesn’t that sound good?”

“Sure. Whatever.” Geneva went into her room and closed her door. Everyone said teenagers were moody and hard to understand, but lately, her mother was way more moody than she was.