Persuaded (19 page)

I also washed a couple of loads of laundry in between dinner and a movie. It was much later, after I had gone to bed, that I heard my parents’ giggled whispers as they came in the front door. I expected one of them to peek into my bedroom, so I sat up. When they passed my door, snickering, I lay back down.
They probably think it’s too late and I’m asleep.
Except I wasn’t. And I couldn’t. Thoughts of Moab kept running through my head, and I wondered too many times how everyone was doing there.

It took a while to get used to the new house. Every time I walked out of my bedroom I would turn the wrong way—the way I used to turn to head downstairs. There was no downstairs in this house. Or upstairs. It was a bungalow. The next morning was no exception, and I had to turn around and stop myself from running into the linen closet before I wandered into the living room. My dad was on the couch with his laptop.

“Hi, Dad.”

He looked up as I came into the room. “Oh, hi. What do you think of the house?”

“Um, it’s nice.”

“Well, from what we hear it’s the nicest on the whole block. And the largest.”

“Really?”

“You’ve seen the backyard, haven’t you? It’s definitely the biggest. The front yard, too.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, so I sat across from him on the other couch in case he was in the mood to chat.

“So, the Russells,” he said. “Did you get to see them? How were they looking?”

“Uh—bad. I didn’t see her dad, though. Just her mom.”

“So was Kylie’s face messed up after the accident? Sydney was saying she looked pretty messed up. You know, she needed stitches and everything.”

“Um, yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

“Well, I’m just glad it didn’t happen to my girls. Just imagining Sydney’s face with scars all over it makes me shudder. It’s a darn good thing you girls were smart.”

“Dad, Kylie almost died. I’m sure considering that, no one—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He sat up in his seat. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you girls and I wouldn’t ever want to lose either of you. But really, scars on top of it—man.” He shook his head in disgust.

In that moment it hit me how prideful and vain my father actually was. I don’t think it’d ever registered before, not completely. It was sad, really sad. I stared at him silently while he drank out of a mug that had been sitting on the end of the table next to his elbow.

He set the mug down. “Well, Veronica has gone to do some early shopping. We’ve been invited to go to a dinner party tonight, nothing major. So if you get home and see that we’re not here, don’t wait up, okay?” He shut the laptop.

Get home? Where does he think I’ll be going?
“Oh, are you done with that? I’d like to check my email.”

“Well, use the computer in the family room. I’m getting ready to head back into my room.”

“Oh, okay. I didn’t realize it was set up already.” Dad walked away before I had even finished talking.

I made my way through the kitchen into the family room. I clicked on the computer and imagined what life would be like if I had different parents. It was silly, I know, but sometimes when you’re all alone your mind starts doing silly things.

Once the screen loaded, I clicked on my email. There was a message from Collin Farnsworth.

Hi Amanda,

Your sister gave me your email address. I hope you don’t mind me using it but I figured you’d like an update. Around 5 last night Kylie woke up. Her mom and dad were in the room with her. Later they called Gregory and me in from the waiting room, and we said hello. She can’t speak yet, but she did have the use of one of her arms. The doctors are saying partial paralysis. I’ll keep you informed, if that’s okay.

Take care,

Collin

Wow—she woke up! And only partial paralysis is amazing.
I hadn’t seen her since the accident, and I’m sure there was bruising everywhere, not too mention bandages all over the poor girl. Knowing Kylie like I did, I hoped her family had removed all mirrors from her hospital room.

The phone rang. I waited a minute to see if my dad was going to answer it, but when it rang a fourth time, I picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Amanda? Is that you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good. This is Suzanne Wentworth—Gregory’s mom.”

“Oh? Hi.”

“My husband Charles and I were wondering if you would like to come to dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?” It was Sunday, so I didn’t have to work. “Sure.”

“Would 6:00 be okay?”

“Uh, yes. It should be fine.”

“Oh, good! Well, we’ll see you then.”

Wait.
“At the house?”

“Of course, dear. Do you need us to pick you up?”

“I—I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

“Okay, then, just give us a call if you do. If not, we’ll be expecting you at six. Goodbye.”

“Bye.” I hung up the phone, wondering what that was all about.

The rest of the day went smoothly. After I got permission to borrow my dad’s car for the evening, I set about to finish the unpacking in my room. I had overanticipated how much space I would actually have. There were two boxes full of things I didn’t want to part with but that wouldn’t fit in my room, so I carried them up the pull-out stairs to the attic. I took me a while to lift and slide the boxes up the stairs, but once I climbed up into the hot, stuffy crawl space, I easily found a place to store them. By the time that was done, I was reasonably proud of myself and ready to take a shower.

At exactly 6:00, I pulled up to the curb at my family’s old house. For a moment I just sat in the car and looked up at it. It really was pretty. My favorite part was the large wraparound porch. I noticed the Wentworths had already added a few nice touches to the front. I liked the country-style wooden bench and the potted plants Mrs. Wentworth had scattered around. The home looked very welcoming. With a nervous sigh I climbed out of the car, then made my way up to the house. At the door, I noticed there was a large doormat that read, “Forget the dog, BEWARE of the cat!”

I laughed as I wiped my feet and knocked on the door.
Okay, I like the Wentworths.
The door swung open and I was greeted by Mrs. Wentworth herself.

“Oh, hi, Amanda. Come on in.” She was about as fashion conscious as I was, which was a relief. Her jeans and shirt were almost hidden by a bright pink-and-white-checkered apron, and she was holding a spatula in one hand.

“Hi.” I smiled as I stepped into the house. For a minute I had almost forgotten I had lived there. With all the mirrors gone and the walls covered with shelves, pictures, and country-motif knickknacks, it looked like a completely different home.

“Wow! You guys have been busy,” I exclaimed as I followed Mrs. Wentworth into the kitchen. On the walls, the fashionable caramel color had been replaced by a cheerful green. I don’t know if I would’ve personally been brave enough to use green in a kitchen, but it worked. It was really cute.

Gregory’s mom waved her hand dismissively as she went to check the oven. “Charles hates to do anything slowly. We’ve been working on the house all week.” She smiled over at me. “Do you like Italian? I hope so.”

“I love it. It smells wonderful.” I walked around the counter. “Is there something I can do to help?”

“Sure, dear.” She handed me a knife and a cutting board and pointed to a whole slew of vegetables in the sink. “Would you mind making a salad?”

“No problem. How big do you want it?”

“Just cut it all up and toss it in.” She grabbed a couple of hot pads, turned the oven off, and pulled out a large tray of crispy, sliced garlic bread. The rich aroma caused my mouth to water.

“All of it? Are you sure, Mrs. Wentworth?”

“Suzanne, dear.” She used a metal spatula to place the bread in a large basket.

When she didn’t answer I tried again. “Are you sure, Suzanne?”

“What?” Mrs. Wentworth placed another piece of bread into the basket. “Oh yes, positive. You can find a bowl under the counter by your leg to put it all in.”

They must be planning to feed a small army.
“How many people are coming for dinner?” I rinsed the lettuce beneath the faucet and shook out the water before placing it onto the cutting board.

“People? No, just you. Oh, I see what you’re asking.” She laughed. “What we don’t eat tonight, Charles and I will finish off in the next couple of days.”

Oh. I’m such a dork.
“That makes a lot more sense.” Even so, I wasn’t sure if my family would’ve finished the salad in a couple of weeks, let alone a couple of days. I shredded the lettuce and had started to peel and slice the carrots when Gregory’s dad walked in.

“Hi, Amanda. So Suzie has already put you to work, has she?”

I smiled up at him. “I offered.”

Gregory’s mom took a stack of plates and silverware into the dining room.

“Well, let me grab a knife and I’ll help you,” Mr. Wentworth said to me. “By the looks of things you’ve got the toughest job.”

“Thanks.”

He was next to me in a jiffy.

“Do you prefer cucumbers or tomatoes?” I asked.

“Cucumbers, of course.” He grinned down and I handed him a couple of cucumbers. I realized Gregory had his father’s smile. “I like to make the lines down the side before I cut them, see?” He carved perfect lines down one of the long, dark green cucumbers and then began to slice it into round discs. “It’s the only way Gregory used to eat them, you know?”

I smiled. “No, I didn’t know.” My carrots were done and I realized I’d better grab the bowl before I began on the tomatoes, or we wouldn’t have enough room for all the veggies. I found a pretty floral glass bowl and set it on the cupboard. Immediately, Gregory’s dad started putting in the chopped lettuce.

“So, what do you think of the house?” he asked. “It just dawned on me you might be a little uncomfortable here. Are you?”

“No–no, it’s fine.”

“Really? You don’t mind that we’ve painted the kitchen, do you?”

“No, really. I think it looks nice.”

“Yeah, we like it too, huh, Suzanne?” He asked as she walked into the kitchen. “We like the new green in here—it brightens the whole place up.”

She smiled over at me but didn’t answer, probably not wanting to hurt my feelings. She opened a cupboard and brought out some glasses.

“I was surprised to see how many mirrors your parents left behind,” Mr. Wentworth remarked. “I guess they didn’t want them anymore?”

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. Maybe there just wasn’t enough room in the new house.”

“Oh, maybe. Well, you’ll see if you walk around that we’ve taken most of them down,” Gregory’s dad said. “I’ve never seen so many mirrors in all my life. It was very disturbing. You wouldn’t believe how many times I nearly scared myself to death, wandering in an unfamiliar house and thinking there was a stranger after me, only to realize it was my own reflection. Your parents must really like the way they look, don’t they?”

“Uh, yeah—they do.” I chuckled and reached into the sink to pull out a red pepper and a yellow one.

“So what do you think of this mess Gregory’s got himself into?” Mr. Wentworth asked.

“Gregory?”

“Yeah, you know, with that Kylie girl. As far as Suzie and I could tell, he was head over heels for her. Always talking about her and telling us little things she had said. He even decided to take her out in the mini jet for some fancy date. I’ll tell you what, when I was out meeting a girl and trying to get her to fall in love with me, I didn’t go around causing her to break her neck. If that’s the way true love is these days—well, I’m not sure I’m up for that kind of stamina.” He looked up and winked as he tossed the cucumbers in the bowl.

I shook my head and grinned at his warped sense of humor before I handed him the broccoli. He started chopping it.