Double Date Page 3

  “Yeah, well, when you put it like that, I guess not. But I still feel sorry for her.”

  “I feel sorry for her too. It looks like she’s making some really stupid choices.” Cassidy pulled into Emma’s grandma’s driveway then turned to peer at Emma. “Think about it, we already have one problem child in the DG. You really think we should take on another?”

  Emma bit her lip as she gathered her bag. “I don’t know . . . maybe not.”

  “Want a ride to Costello’s later?”

  “Sure.” Emma thanked her for the ride as she opened the door, and as she walked up to the house, she thought about what Cass had said about God’s grace being big enough.

  “There’s my girl.” Grandma opened the door and happily hugged Emma. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” She led Emma to the kitchen. “I decided that we’d make pumpkin bread. How does that sound to you?”

  “Yummy.” Emma dropped her bag on a chair and took off her jacket.

  “We’ll make enough to freeze for Thanksgiving and for you to have some to take home.” She opened the oven door. “I already baked the pumpkin and it’s nice and cool now. You can do the scraping.”

  Emma was relieved that Grandma seemed to be in good spirits, but she was still thinking about Devon as she scraped the pumpkin meat into a bowl.

  “Is something troubling you?” Grandma asked.

  Emma told Grandma about Devon’s situation. Oh, she didn’t go into all the details—like how Devon had nearly poisoned herself with too much alcohol last weekend—but she did tell her about how Devon’s mom was acting pretty irresponsible. “This Rodney dude is a lot younger, and according to Devon, he’s a total jerk. She thinks they’ll get married in December, and I can tell from how she talks, he’s been spending the night at their house sometimes.” Emma tossed a big chunk of pumpkin in the bowl. “I can’t imagine how upset I’d be if Mom did that to me.”

  “No, I can’t either. But I can’t imagine your mother doing something like that in the first place.”

  “No . . . she wouldn’t.”

  “That’s too bad for Devon. I really thought Lisa had better sense. But she went through that hard divorce. I’m sure that took a toll on her self-esteem. I’ll bet that’s part of her problem now. Still, it’s not fair to Devon.” Grandma shook her head as she chopped nuts. “Having a mom’s boyfriend spending the night in their home . . . well, that’s just wrong. Especially with a teenage girl in the house.” She put down her knife with a clank. “And I’m pretty sure Dr. Phil would agree with me on that.”

  Emma couldn’t help but laugh. Grandma was a die-hard Dr. Phil fan. She had all his books and never missed a show—even if it was a rerun. “So I’ve been wondering . . .” Emma put the last of the pumpkin into the bowl. “Maybe I should offer to let Devon live with us. I’m sure Mom wouldn’t mind. Sometimes she gets along better with Devon than she does with me.” Emma frowned.

  “Oh, honey, that’s so sweet that you’re willing to share your home with Devon, but do you really think that’s a good idea? I know you girls have been close off and on over the years, but I also know you can fight like cats and dogs sometimes too.”

  “That’s true.”

  Grandma measured some flour, dumping it into the mixing bowl. “I hate to see you feeling like the odd man out—or odd girl out—in your own home. Especially with the holidays coming, when Edward will be home from college. It might be awkward for him having Devon as part of the household.”

  Emma hadn’t even thought about how her brother might react to Devon living with them, but she was actually relieved that Grandma’s thinking was taking this route. Because as much as she wanted to help Devon, the idea of having her full-time in their home until graduation was a little scary. “Yeah, those are good points,” she admitted. “I hadn’t even considered those things.”

  Grandma paused from measuring salt. “I have an idea, Emma. Something that might be good for both you and Devon—and for me too.”

  “What?”

  “How about if Devon moves in with me?”

  “Seriously?” Emma blinked.

  “Absolutely. Devon and I have always gotten along well. I know the girl’s got a bit of the devil in her—she always has. But thanks to Dr. Phil I’ve picked up some skills over the years. I think I might be of some use.” Grandma smiled.

  “Really?” Suddenly Emma felt unsure. Was she truly willing to share her grandma with Devon?

  “You know, Emma, it might even be an answer to prayer for me.” She sighed. “I’ve been out of sorts since your grandfather died. I’ve felt rather lost. Oh, I try to act like I’m fine, but the truth is, I’m lonely.”

  Emma nodded. “Yeah . . . I know.”

  “Devon is a little chatterbox.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And she doesn’t have a grandma nearby.”

  “That’s true too.”

  “And she’s almost like family. I’ve known her mother since she and your mom were in school together.” Grandma clasped her hands. “Oh, Emma, this is so exciting. Do you think Devon will be interested?”

  “I, uh, I don’t know.”

  “Do you think Lisa will mind?” Grandma pursed her lips. “Although, considering what you’ve said about this Rodney fellow, I would think Lisa would be relieved.”

  “Yeah, and then Lisa can do whatever she wants. Have her boyfriend over or disappear for a few days.” Emma scowled with disapproval.

  “It might even be a wake-up call for Lisa,” Grandma said as she measured cinnamon.

  “How so?”

  “If she sees that choosing to be involved with Rodney like that means that Devon has to live elsewhere . . . well, perhaps she’ll rethink the whole business.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice,” Emma said dourly.

  “So what’s our next step?” Grandma asked hopefully. “Do I call Devon? Or should you?”

  Emma frowned with uncertainty. “I’m not sure.”

  Grandma’s mouth twisted to one side as she unwrapped a cube of butter. “Maybe you should call her, Emma. That way, if she’s not interested, it won’t make her uncomfortable. I wouldn’t want to pressure her at all. Of course, she would have to understand that she would be subject to some house rules if she comes here. I certainly wouldn’t want her to think she could just run wild.”

  “No . . . that wouldn’t be good.” Emma felt even more uncertain now. What if Devon accepted this offer, thinking it was her ticket to complete freedom?

  It wasn’t long until all the ingredients were mixed and the bread pans were filled with spicy-smelling batter. As Grandma closed the oven door, she turned hopefully to Emma. “Why don’t you call Devon right now, honey? I’m dying to hear her answer. Even if it is no.”

  “Okay . . .” Emma reluctantly went to get her phone, remaining in the living room as she hit the speed dial. What if this was all a big mistake?

  “Hey, Em,” Devon said in a slightly flat-sounding voice. “What’s up?”

  “Well, I have kind of a crazy idea—actually my grandma has a crazy idea.” Slowly, Emma explained. The other end of the line was so silent that Emma wondered if she’d lost the connection. “Devon?” she said. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah . . . I’m here.” Devon’s voice sounded even stranger now.

  “Are you okay?” Emma asked nervously. “You haven’t been getting into your mom’s booze again, have you?”

  “No, of course not. I told you I was never doing that again.”

  “Yeah, but you say lots of things.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “No—I’m sorry. It’s just that I care about you.”

  “Yeah . . . sorry . . . I know.”

  “So, what do you think? Or maybe you need time to think about it. Or to talk to your mom . . . or whatever. I just promised Grandma I’d call and let you know.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “What?”

  “That
your grandma would really ask me something like this.”

  “Huh?” Emma was confused. Was Devon insulted by her grandma’s offer? If she was, shouldn’t Emma be insulted that Devon would react like that? After all, Grandma was doing this out of the goodness of her heart. “What do you mean—ask you something like this? Are you saying—”

  “I’m just kinda blown away, that’s all.”

  “Oh?”

  “You know what I was just doing?” Devon asked in a serious voice.

  “I have no idea.”

  “I was on my knees, Emma.”

  “Huh?”

  “I was praying.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I can hardly believe it myself. But I felt so desperate when I came into the house. I literally got down on my knees and I begged God to get me out of this place. I hate being here, Emma. I despise it. I mean, it used to be okay, but now that Rodney’s acting like he’s part of the family, it’s unbearable. When I walked into the house and saw his leather motorcycle jacket hanging by the front door, I almost went ballistic. It feels like he’s marking his territory—you know, how a dog does in a yard. Anyway, I was seriously tempted to stuff that stupid jacket into the fireplace, douse it with something flammable and just light it on fire.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “No. I knew that would just make more problems.”

  “For sure. But you were actually praying?”

  “I was.”

  “Wow.” Emma glanced over to the kitchen where Grandma was cleaning up the baking tools. “So what do you think then?”

  “I think—yes, yes, yes!” Devon said happily. “Ask your grandma how soon I can move in.”

  “Don’t you need to talk to your mom?”

  “Did she talk to me before bringing Rodney into our lives?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Seriously, Em, ask your grandma when I can come, okay? I’ll start packing right now.”

  Emma went into the kitchen now. “Grandma?”

  Grandma looked up from where she was setting a bowl in the dishwasher. “Yes?”

  “Devon wants to know when she can come.”

  Grandma’s eyes lit up and she laughed. “Whenever she likes.”

  “Did you hear that?” Emma said into the phone. “Grandma said whenever.”

  “Cool. Maybe I’ll pack a bag and walk over there right now,” Devon said. “Is that okay?”

  “Can Devon come right now?” Emma asked her grandma.

  “Tell Devon that the pumpkin bread will be out of the oven in about thirty minutes.” Grandma grinned as Emma relayed this message and hung up. “Well, isn’t that amazing,” Grandma said happily.

  “Do you want to hear what’s really amazing?” Emma asked. “Devon told me that she was actually praying just now, asking God to give her another place to live.”

  Grandma’s eyes got misty. “Well, isn’t that just how God works sometimes—miraculously.” She dried her hands on a towel. “Want to help me clear some things out of the spare bedroom to make more room for Devon?”

  “Sure,” Emma said without real enthusiasm. Oh, she was happy for Devon and even happier for Grandma. But a juvenile and selfish part of her was feeling pea green with jealousy too. What if Devon tried to take Emma’s place with her grandmother?

  4

  It was only the first week of November, but as Bryn pointed out at the student council meeting after school, it was not too soon to be working on the Christmas ball. “In fact,” she declared hotly, “I think we should’ve started on it weeks ago.” She pointed a manicured finger at Jason Levine. “As president, you should know better than put it off this long.”

  “Wow,” he said smoothly. “You feel pretty strongly about this, don’t you?”

  She waved a paper in the air. “You didn’t even put it on today’s agenda, Jason. Never mind that you have no committee—I’ll bet you haven’t even reserved a location yet.”

  “Why reserve a location for an outdated event that only a handful of people will attend anyway?”

  “That’s so not true,” Bryn declared. “Lots of us look forward to the Christmas ball.”

  “It’s the least attended event at Northwood,” he said with nonchalance. “I already had a conversation with the administration about canceling it this year.”

  “You want to cancel the Christmas ball?” she demanded.

  “I didn’t say I wanted to cancel it. I said we discussed it, that’s all.”

  “Well, the Christmas ball is a tradition at Northwood. We’re one of the few schools that even have a Christmas ball. Everyone else calls theirs a Winter ball. Like they’re afraid of the word Christmas! And I for one am not going to take this sitting down, Jason Levine. I will not let the Christmas ball go without a fight.” She shook her fist in the air for emphasis.

  He smiled as if amused. “Wow, Bryn, why don’t you tell us how you really feel?”

  Some male members of the council just laughed, but she turned to the crowd with a passionate plea. “Okay, so maybe you guys aren’t into this dance—as usual. But how about you girls? Are you ready to kiss the Christmas ball good-bye? To give up a time-honored tradition just because Jason Levine thinks it’s outdated? Really?”

  Several of the girls, who outnumbered the boys by about two to one, shouted out their support for the dance. Bryn turned back to Jason. “Should we put this to a vote?”

  He shrugged. “Nah. I get your point.”

  “So we need to jump on this,” she told him. “Do you know how hard it can be to book a decent ballroom in December? Everyone is having Christmas parties. Remember?”

  “Fine. We’ll save ourselves some money and hold the ball in the gym.”

  “In the gym?” she shot back. “Seriously?” She turned to look at the other council members again. “How many of you girls want to go to the Christmas ball in a gym that reeks of smelly basketball players?” The girls made disgusted faces.

  “We can fumigate,” Jason said. “Knowing how you girls drench yourselves in perfume, it probably won’t even be necessary.” Naturally this brought out the chuckles from the few guys present.

  As Bryn turned back to Jason, she tried to remember why she’d ever found him attractive before. The guy was a jerk. She grimly shook her head. “You may go down in Northwood history, Jason Levine, as the worst student council president of all time.”

  “Why, thank you, Bryn. Thank you very much.” He stood and made a phony bow, then checked his watch. “Now that we’ve heard Bryn’s complaints, does anyone else have anything to add to today’s meeting or should we close this—”

  “I want to nominate Bryn Jacobs as chairman of the Christmas ball,” a girl called out.

  “I second the nomination,” another yelled.

  “All in favor?” Jason asked before Bryn could object. Everyone yelled “yea,” and now Jason turned to Bryn. “There you go, Bryn. If the Christmas ball is a flop, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

  “But I—”

  “Thanks for coming, everyone,” he called out. “Meeting dismissed.”

  “Wait, everyone,” Bryn yelled as the chairs screeched and people stood. “Before you guys leave, I’m going to put a sign-up sheet by the door. Anyone interested in helping with the Christmas ball, please, talk to me. We can make this an unforgettable night—for everyone.” She hurried to the door, planting herself beside it with an open notebook and a pen in hand.

  “Come on,” she coaxed as people walked past her without signing up. “It will be fun, and it will look good on your college applications. I promise I’ll bring food to planning meetings.”

  Lane Granger lingered, looking curiously at her. “Okay,” he said a bit reluctantly as he reached for the pen. “I need more volunteer projects in my college bio.”

  “Thanks, Lane.” She grinned. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

  Amanda Norton paused by the door as if considering.

  “Come on, Amanda.” Br
yn pushed the pen toward her. “You were on the committee last year, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I bet you’ve got some great ideas.” Bryn smiled brightly. “I’d love to have you as my co-chairwoman.”

  Amanda’s mouth twisted to one side as if weighing this invitation.

  “Co-chair for a big event like this would look good on college applications,” Bryn pointed out.

  “I wasn’t even planning on going to the dance,” Amanda said dourly.

  “Why not?” Bryn asked. “I realize your boyfriend is in college, but won’t he be home for Christmas break? Wouldn’t it be fun to get dressed up and go to the Christmas ball with him? And to know that you helped to make it the wonderful night that it will be?”

  “Who says I’m even still going with that guy?” Amanda flicked her eyes toward the ceiling then reached for the pen. “Whatever.”

  “Thank you so much!”

  Amanda handed the pen back. “I’ll have to coerce Tristin into helping too. And maybe Sienna Abernathy.” She pointed at Bryn. “You better get some of your girlfriends to sign up too. The more workers we have, the less work there will be for us.”

  Bryn beamed at her. “See, already you’re acting like a good co-chair. Thanks, Amanda.”

  “Yeah, I hope I’m not sorry.” Amanda glared over to where Jason was still up front, gathering up some papers. “I almost quit student council,” she said quietly, “after I heard Jason got elected president. What a farce. Like he really cares about student government. He just thinks this will look good on his college application.”

  Bryn shrugged. “He’s just a figurehead,” she whispered. “No one really listens to him anyway.”

  Amanda snickered. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  Bryn managed to coerce a couple more volunteers to sign up and was just getting ready to leave when Jason came over to look at her sign-up sheet. “Not bad, Bryn. Looks like we got the right person to chair this gig. Thanks for stepping up.”

  “Thanks to your lack of leadership,” she said as she shoved the sign-up sheet into her bag.

  He leaned forward to peer closely at her face. “Why do you hate me?”