Not Another Bad Date (13 page)

“No problem.” Kendra shut the front passenger’s door and shoved her backpack onto the floor between her feet. “Can you take us to the Estée Lauder counter at Dillard’s?”

“Sure. What do you need?”

“I need some makeup.” Tiffany climbed into the backseat, and as soon as she buckled herself in, Adele pulled out into traffic.

Adele could use a few things herself. “Is it okay with your dad?”

“Yes. Daddy gave me his credit card and said not to come home looking like a hooker.”

“Like Jenny Callaway,” Kendra said through a snort, and the two girls started to laugh.

The last time Adele had seen
Daddy,
he’d just come out of a bathroom stall. At first she’d been too blinded by the hope of no more curse to feel much of anything other than relief and pure joy over what had happened in that bathroom. A week later, she just wanted to curl up and groan. If those girls hadn’t walked in, she wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t have ended up having sex with Zach against the wall. She didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Zach hadn’t pulled her into the stall before those girls opened the door.

“Aunt Adele?”

She looked over at her niece. “Yes.”

“No Kendra,” Tiffany whispered loudly from the back.

Kendra turned and looked between the seats at Tiffany. “She might know.”

Adele looked in the rearview mirror at Tiffany shaking her head. Her eyes huge. She looked so much like her mother, it brought back memories of Devon making fun of the brand of pants Adele wore. “What’s up?” Adele asked.

Kendra sat back in her seat. “When did you get your period?”

The car swerved a little as Adele glanced over at her niece. “Why?”

“’Cause Lilly Ann Potts got hers last week. That makes everyone in the eighth grade but Tiffany.”

Adele stopped at a red light and once again glanced in the rearview mirror. Tiffany leaned forward with her face buried in her backpack. She seriously doubted every girl in the eighth grade had her period but Tiffany. “Are you worried about it?” Adele asked.

Tiffany shrugged.

“She thinks something might be wrong with her,” Kendra provided. “And she doesn’t have a momma to talk to her about it.”

The light turned green, and Adele drove through the intersection. At the age of thirteen, she hadn’t had a mother either, and she knew what it was like to have that important piece missing in your life. To always feel the loss and sorrow and longing in your heart, but at least she’d had Sherilyn. Perfect, pain in the butt Sherilyn to explain things to her. “My mother died when I was ten. Just like you. Only I had an older sister to talk to about embarrassing stuff I couldn’t talk to my daddy about.”

Tiffany lifted her head. “I tried to talk to my daddy about it. He said I could go to a doctor, but I don’t want to, and I don’t want to talk to my grandmas either. And there might not be anything wrong anyway, but I saw a story on TV about girls who have too many boy hormones or something and they don’t get their periods and they grow a mustache. I don’t wanna grow a mustache.”

Adele had never heard of such a thing, but she supposed it could happen. “I think I was thirteen when I got my period, but my friend Gail was fourteen. She was littler than I was and a late bloomer.”

“See. I told you not to worry.” Kendra picked at a blue patch of polish on her stubby thumbnail.

“I think my mom was a late bloomer,” Tiffany said.

“Yes. I think she was.”

Tiffany sat straight up. “You knew my mom?”

“We graduated from Cedar Creek High the same year,” she said as she turned into Dillard’s parking lot. “We didn’t hang around with the same group of friends, but I knew her.”

Adele parked the car, and the three of them got out and moved toward the front of the store.

“Did my momma have lots of boyfriends?” Tiffany asked, and folded her arms across the chest of her red sweater.

Devon had always dated a football player. “I believe she did.”

“Were they cute?”

“Sure.” Adele hung her purse on her shoulder. “Your daddy knew her better than anyone, I imagine.” They walked into the store and paused at the perfume counter. “You should ask him about her.”

Tiffany shrugged and sprayed herself down with Juicy. “I do ask him, but he didn’t know her before UT. And he just says stuff like, ‘there was no one like your momma’ and that she loved me.”

Zach was right. Adele had never met anyone else like Devon, which was a good thing. “You should ask Genevieve Brooks.” Adele picked up a bottle of Burberry, pulled back her sleeves, and spritzed her wrists. “She knew your mother better than I.”

Tiffany shook her head, and her golden blond hair brushed the shoulders of her sweater. “She only talks to me so that she can be around my dad. The others, too.”

“Smell this.” Kendra held her wrist up to Tiffany’s nose. “It smells like grapefruit.”

They set down the bottles of perfume, and Tiffany asked as they moved to the Estée Lauder counter, “What was Momma like in school?”

A heinous bitch.
“Well, she was perky and cute.” Adele dug around in her memory for something nice to say. “She was a cheerleader and popular.” Then she flat out lied. “She was just plain wonderful.” She swallowed past her constricting throat. “Really great.”

Tiffany grinned, showing a mouthful of metal. Her whole face lit up from the inside out. “Everyone loved her.”

“Yes. Everyone loved her.” Adele smiled and was glad that she’d lied.

“Grandma Cecilia says that people loved her ’cause she was so sweet to everyone.”

Adele opened her mouth, but her throat closed completely. Apparently one lie about Devon a day was her quota. “Mmm-hmm,” she managed and was saved further comment by an Estée Lauder salesclerk with a pile of blond hair and perfect makeup. The clerk set the three of them in chairs in front of mirrors and let them play with makeup as she gave them tips.

Adele felt bad for Tiffany. Going through your teen years without a mother was rough, and although she was positive Zach loved his daughter, he could never be her mother. She could never go to him with those excruciatingly embarrassing questions that every girl had when her body changed from a little girl’s into a woman’s. She wondered if she should tell Zach that Tiffany had talked to Adele about her worries.

While the girls applied a little pink rouge, Adele picked out liquid eyeliner and drew a narrow, plum-colored line across the base of her lashes. She pumped up the volume of her lashes with some Illusionist mascara, then turned to her niece. “What do you think?”

“I like the eyeliner, but…”

“But what?”

“No offense, Aunt Adele, but the scrunchie has to go.”

“Go where?”

“In the garbage.”

She lifted a hand to the ponytail at the back of her head. “What’s wrong with my scrunchie?”

Tiffany leaned forward, and answered, “It’s so nineteen-nineties. Noooo one wears
scrunchies
anymore.”

“Jordon Kent’s mom does,” Kendra said as she gazed at herself in the mirror. “I saw it when she picked him up from school.”

“Yeah, and she wears mom pants and big bangs, too.”

Adele suddenly felt really old and lowered her hand. “Really? My scrunchie is a fashion no?” How had she not known that? And how had she suddenly become so incredibly
un
cool?

“Your scrunchie is a fashion
heck
no.” Tiffany gave her a consoling smile. “But you’ve got pretty eyes.”

Pretty eyes?
Wasn’t that what people always said to unattractive people when they couldn’t think of something nice to say?

“And you’re really cute when your hair isn’t in a scrunchie,” Tiffany added, throwing Adele a bone.

Cute?
“Thank you.” She looked up at the saleswoman. “I’ll take the Illusionist mascara. The plum eyeliner and lipstick in maraschino.” She glanced at her watch, then she turned to her niece, “What are you going to get?”

“Me? I don’t have Momma’s credit card.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have tons of credit cards.”

“Really.” Kendra smiled. “You’d buy me some makeup?”

“Sure. I don’t think your mother will mind, and I haven’t given my cards a workout since I’ve been here. I’m feeling a little deprived.”

“Do you mind if I get concealer?” Kendra pointed to a pimple on her chin. “This is so embarrassing.”

Adele looked at the choices of concealer the saleslady had placed before them and pointed to a small tube with a wand. “Do you like this one? It looks like your color.”

Kendra nodded and the saleswoman turned and opened a drawer of concealer.

“Do you want to go see your momma before or after dinner?” Adele asked her niece.

“After. Tiffany’s coming over to our house, and her daddy’s picking her up around six.”

“Oh.” The memory of Zach with his big “skilled” hands on her breasts inconveniently popped into her head.

“I hope it’s all right, but Daddy’s practice is going to run a little late tonight.”

Adele didn’t know if she was ready to see “Daddy” so soon. She’d hoped to maybe avoid him until the memory of the bathroom incident faded a bit. “Of course it’s all right. Sheri won’t mind if we come a little later than usual.”

The saleswoman piled the concealer and pink lip gloss with Adele’s makeup and Tiffany pointed out the cosmetics she wanted. “You’re so lucky, Kendra,” Tiffany said, and sat back in her chair. “I wish I was going to have a baby brother.”

“We get to feel him kick all the time.”

“You have to let me babysit with you.”

“Okay. I’ll let you change his poopie pants.”

Tiffany wrinkled up her nose. “Yuck.”

The saleswoman set curling mascara, two tubes of pink and rose lip gloss, and a clear cube with a pot of bright blue color in the center.

“Is your daddy going to be okay with that blue eye shadow?” Adele asked the thirteen-year-old.

Tiffany nodded and whipped out Zach’s Platinum American Express card. “He won’t mind.”

“Tiffany,” she called over her shoulder, “your daddy’s here.” She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her. “I need to talk to you.”

He looked down at her, his expression carefully blank. “If it’s about what happened in the bathroom, I think it’s pretty safe to say that we both got carried away and…”

“It’s not about that.” She took his arm and pulled him down the steps. He’d once told her that he was a human furnace, and he was right. Warmth radiated from him and heated up her hand and forearm. “There’s something more important for us to talk about than what happened in the bathroom.” After they’d returned home from Dillard’s she’d thought about Tiffany’s concerns about her body, and the more she thought about it, the more she’d figured she should talk to Zach. “Tiffany told me that she’s afraid that she’ll never get her period and she’ll grow a mustache.”

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he turned to face her. “She told you all that?”

Adele nodded and let go of his arm. “I thought you should know she talked to me about it.”

“She mentioned something about it the other day.” He looked down into her eyes. “But she didn’t mention the mustache.”

“Evidently she saw something on TV that’s freaked her out.” Adele shrugged with one shoulder. “I’m sure she’s just a late bloomer. Devon was small.”

“Her momma was tiny, so maybe.”

Tiny and petite and beautiful. Adele looked away and folded her arms against the chill. She wore a long-sleeved shirt, but it wasn’t enough protection against the cool night air. “She asked me questions about Devon.”

They walked side by side down the walk toward his silver Escalade. “What questions?”

“What she was like in high school. Stuff like that.”

“What did you tell her?”

Adele glanced up at him and said flatly, “I lied.”

“About?”

“I told Tiffany that Devon was wonderful and everyone loved her.”

She wasn’t sure, but she thought he smiled with one corner of his mouth. “I take it not everyone thought she was wonderful.”

Adele stopped at the curb. “No. Not everyone did.”

He shoved his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt and looked over her head as if he was distracted by something going on across the street. “Thank you. I know that Devon wasn’t your favorite person.”

“No.” She glanced behind her, but no one was out and about but her and Zach. “She made my life hell.”

“You weren’t the only one.”

She wondered if Devon had made Zach’s life hell, too. “No matter what I think of Devon, or of you, Tiffany seems like a nice girl. She’s been really sweet to Kendra at a very difficult time in my niece’s life.”

“Tiffany
is
a nice girl.” His eyes narrowed as he continued to stare over her head. “I didn’t know she was worried about growing a mustache, and I thought she could talk to me about whatever’s on her mind. I guess there are some things she feels uncomfortable talking over with her dad.” He finally looked at her. “If she says anything else, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know.”

Adele nodded. “I lost my mother when I was ten, so I know how she feels.”

“That’s right. You told me that at UT.” His gaze slid to her mouth and down the front of her shirt. His voice got really low, his drawl more pronounced when he said, “I’ve got something for you.”

She didn’t think she wanted to know what he had for her. It might be something she hadn’t had in a long time. Something she really wanted but really shouldn’t want. She frowned to cover up her confusion. “Grow up, Zach.”

He looked at her for several moments, then said, “Sweetheart, you have a dirty mind.”

She placed a hand on her chest. “Me?” Before she could respond further, the front door opened, and Tiffany moved from the porch and down the steps.

“You ready?” Zach asked, the hot lazy drawl gone from his voice.

“Yep.” Tiffany hung her backpack over one shoulder and opened the Cadillac’s passenger door. “Thanks for taking me to Dillard’s.”

“You’re welcome.” She placed her hand on Tiffany’s shoulder. “And just remember something. Being a late bloomer might suck right now, but when you’re thirty, you’ll look twenty-five, and all your friends will be jealous.”