Neither had I. But when we were together, thatâs what it was. Love.
Amber fixed me with her big blue eyes. âBailey, you know he sees Carly. And Meagan. You have to know that.â
I tried to swallow, but the peanut butter stuck in my throat. Iâd heard rumors about Went and Carly. I hadnât heard about Meagan. âDonât believe everything you hear.â
âHave you asked Went about him and Carly?â
I shook my head. âI trust Went.â What we had was so full, so deep. He couldnât possibly have had that with anybody else. âLove is about trust.â
Amber shoved her trash into her bag. When she looked at me again, I could tell she was struggling to control her words. âSo, tomorrowâs Saturday. Do you and your boyfriend have a date?â
I grinned, doubly pleased that I had a good answer. âWe do.â
Amber looked surprised. âSeriously? Well, good. Good for you, Bailey.â
âWeâre refinishing a couple of Momâs tables for her. It was Wentâs idea. He feels like he owes Mom for taking care of Adam.â Turned out Adam couldnât hold it during a whole school day. Mom had been coming home to walk the dog during her lunch hour. âShe asked me to ask you to come, too.â
âMe? Why me? Iâve never refinished anything.â
âYeah, but youâre artsy, and weâre not.â
âTrue.â Amber had seen Mom and me fail at enough decorating and fashion attempts to know the Daley girls had missed out on the art gene.
Â
On Saturday, Mom forced herself to abandon the garage sales and work on refinishing what she already had. Amber showed up before we finished breakfast. She and I went to work in the garage sanding the old table Mom had salvaged from Grove while Mom drove to the hardware store for stain and varnish. When Mom got back, Amber and I were still sanding, with the music blaring. Went still hadnât shown.
âHe better get here soon,â Mom warned. âI donât know how to stain that thing.â
âThing?â I repeated, wiping sawdust off my forehead with the back of my hand.
âMasterpiece,â Mom corrected.
âItâs a cool table, Big D,â Amber said. âI was thinking I could stain these grooves a darker color, here around the edges.â
Mom inspected the scrolls carved into her prized table. âGreat idea, Amber. I hadnât even noticed that etching. A dark stain would really bring itââ
âHey, everybody!â Went called, squeezing sideways between two dressers to get into the garage. âDonât tell me you started without me.â
Seeing Went still electrified me. I loved the way he looked in his old jeans, with paint splatters and holes in the knees. âYou made it!â At the sound of my voice, Adam barked and made a run at me. I stopped sanding and greeted the little dog. I missed him when he was at Wentâs.
Went strolled over to our work area. âMrs. Daley, this table is sweet. You must have a great eye for antiques. Canât believe anybody would throw this away.â
Mom brightened. âYou like the table? Really?â
âAre you kidding? When weâre done with it, youâll be able to sell this baby to the highest bidder.â He squatted down by Amber and examined the table leg she was sanding. Amber backed away. âWe ought to fix this leg first, I guess.â
âThis legâs wobbly, too,â I pointed out, wanting to be part of this operation.
âDo you have a Phillips screwdriver? I might need glue, too.â He sat on the garage floor and wiggled the table legs.
Mom got out the toolbox. âTake your pick.â She smiled at him, a real smileâmaybe for the first time since heâd been coming to our house.
It meant a lot to me for my mom and my boyfriend to get along. âWe really appreciate your help, donât we,