Chapter 5Today was Sunday and the get-together, or whatever it was, wouldn’t be until the following Thursday - four agonizingly long days. All evening, I fought the urge to call her. Over and over, I played out in my mind what I’d say, what my reason would be for calling. To thank her? To let her know I had accepted her offer? Or maybe she felt sorry for me. Maybe she and Rachel had been talking that afternoon and somehow my name came up in the conversation.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Sitting at home sulking. She’s really in bad shape. Boy, I feel sorry for her, don’t you?”
Was this a pity invitation? No. No, it couldn’t be. Besides, I doubt Rachel would talk about me like that. I think she understood what I was going through. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I reasoned out how
