eyes were bloodshot, and there were echoes of mascara smeared underneath them. “And you didn’t think there’d be boys there,” she gloated. “What was your dude’s name again?”
“Caleb. Caleb Something.” What was it? He’d mentioned it at some point. “Weaver.”
Piper swerved around a turn too fast. The tires shrieked.
“Caleb Weaver?”
“Watch the road, please!” Maya yelled.
“He used to play tennis for Harker. You know who he is?” I asked.
Piper bit her lip. “Um, the name sounds familiar,” she mumbled. “Must have seen it on a tournament roster or something.” Before I pried deeper, my phone rang. Maya grabbed it.
I snatched it out of her hands and answered the call.
“Lana? Hey, it’s Caleb.” My heart raced at the sound of his voice. Piper pulled into a spot in front of the restaurant and both girls turned to watch me. I mouthed the words, “I’ll be right in.” Outside the windows, the morning clouds had drifted away and the sun felt warm and delicious on my face.
***
I stared at the clock. I wore my slim dark jeans, ballet flats, a silky camisole, and a cardigan. I held my gray leather jacket on my lap like a security blanket. My stomach was keeping itself busy herding swarms of butterflies when my phone vibrated with a text.
Got lost. Be there in 5.
I texted back:
Don’t text and drive.
My dad heard the pings from the kitchen, where he was slicing carrots. “This bozo think better of it yet?” Tires crunched up our driveway. I jumped up.
“He’s here! Please be nice, Dad!”
“You met this guy when? Ten minutes ago?” His knife came down hard and a piece of carrot flew off the cutting board and rolled onto the floor.
A car door slammed. My dad walked over to the front windows that faced the driveway. “He drives a nine-eleven? What the hell kind of parents—”
The doorbell cut him off.
***
Caleb Weaver was freshly shaven and his hair was perfectly groomed, as though he hadn’t been guzzling champagne and making out with some high school chick the night before. He wore a rumpled button-down shirt and dark jeans.
When I opened the door, he grinned at me. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”
“Hi! Oh, no problem.” My dad cleared his throat behind me. “Caleb, this is my dad, John.”
Caleb politely shook his hand and introduced himself. My dad smiled and his shoulders relaxed a little. “Nice looking car there, young man. Drive safely please, you two.”
As I slid into the passenger seat, my heart went into overdrive. I wiped my damp palms on my jeans as he walked around to his side. Relax or he’ll know it’s your first date!
Sweat stains under my arms were not a good look.
I took a calming breath and tried to think of something to say as we drove away.
“I got to drive the new nine-eleven last month.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah? Did you steal it?”
I laughed. “No, I work for—” But I stopped myself. He didn’t need to know I parked cars on the weekends. “I work at my dad’s shop sometimes. He sells restored vintage cars, and some newer ones. He used to race.”
“Really?” Caleb looked over at me with raised eyebrows. “You must be a pretty good driver.” He looked over at me expectantly. I shrugged. “Right now I’m picturing you in a head-to-toe leather jumpsuit.”
“Don’t have one of those yet.”
***
I was not ready for the question when it came at dinner. We were at a cozy café called the London Tavern in downtown Glen Ellen.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did your mother pass away? Was she sick?” The ice cubes in my glass cracked. Make something up. Do not go there.
I took a sip of my water. “Yeah. She was.” Technically not a lie. She had to have been sick. We just didn’t know. No one knew.
“Wow, I’m so sorry, Lana. What about your dad? Did he ever think about getting remarried?”
I hadn’t anticipated that one. I considered saying no, but I was a terrible
“Caleb. Caleb Something.” What was it? He’d mentioned it at some point. “Weaver.”
Piper swerved around a turn too fast. The tires shrieked.
“Caleb Weaver?”
“Watch the road, please!” Maya yelled.
“He used to play tennis for Harker. You know who he is?” I asked.
Piper bit her lip. “Um, the name sounds familiar,” she mumbled. “Must have seen it on a tournament roster or something.” Before I pried deeper, my phone rang. Maya grabbed it.
I snatched it out of her hands and answered the call.
“Lana? Hey, it’s Caleb.” My heart raced at the sound of his voice. Piper pulled into a spot in front of the restaurant and both girls turned to watch me. I mouthed the words, “I’ll be right in.” Outside the windows, the morning clouds had drifted away and the sun felt warm and delicious on my face.
***
I stared at the clock. I wore my slim dark jeans, ballet flats, a silky camisole, and a cardigan. I held my gray leather jacket on my lap like a security blanket. My stomach was keeping itself busy herding swarms of butterflies when my phone vibrated with a text.
Got lost. Be there in 5.
I texted back:
Don’t text and drive.
My dad heard the pings from the kitchen, where he was slicing carrots. “This bozo think better of it yet?” Tires crunched up our driveway. I jumped up.
“He’s here! Please be nice, Dad!”
“You met this guy when? Ten minutes ago?” His knife came down hard and a piece of carrot flew off the cutting board and rolled onto the floor.
A car door slammed. My dad walked over to the front windows that faced the driveway. “He drives a nine-eleven? What the hell kind of parents—”
The doorbell cut him off.
***
Caleb Weaver was freshly shaven and his hair was perfectly groomed, as though he hadn’t been guzzling champagne and making out with some high school chick the night before. He wore a rumpled button-down shirt and dark jeans.
When I opened the door, he grinned at me. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”
“Hi! Oh, no problem.” My dad cleared his throat behind me. “Caleb, this is my dad, John.”
Caleb politely shook his hand and introduced himself. My dad smiled and his shoulders relaxed a little. “Nice looking car there, young man. Drive safely please, you two.”
As I slid into the passenger seat, my heart went into overdrive. I wiped my damp palms on my jeans as he walked around to his side. Relax or he’ll know it’s your first date!
Sweat stains under my arms were not a good look.
I took a calming breath and tried to think of something to say as we drove away.
“I got to drive the new nine-eleven last month.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah? Did you steal it?”
I laughed. “No, I work for—” But I stopped myself. He didn’t need to know I parked cars on the weekends. “I work at my dad’s shop sometimes. He sells restored vintage cars, and some newer ones. He used to race.”
“Really?” Caleb looked over at me with raised eyebrows. “You must be a pretty good driver.” He looked over at me expectantly. I shrugged. “Right now I’m picturing you in a head-to-toe leather jumpsuit.”
“Don’t have one of those yet.”
***
I was not ready for the question when it came at dinner. We were at a cozy café called the London Tavern in downtown Glen Ellen.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did your mother pass away? Was she sick?” The ice cubes in my glass cracked. Make something up. Do not go there.
I took a sip of my water. “Yeah. She was.” Technically not a lie. She had to have been sick. We just didn’t know. No one knew.
“Wow, I’m so sorry, Lana. What about your dad? Did he ever think about getting remarried?”
I hadn’t anticipated that one. I considered saying no, but I was a terrible
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