“It varies,” Lynn said. “But it can hold as many as twenty-five, and we have a waiting list.”
“I can imagine,” Elizabeth said.
“I always wish we could reach more teens—” Before Lynn could say anything else, her phone rang, and she hurried into the hallway to take the call.
Ricky set the food down on the counter. “I don’t know what I would have done without True Colors. This place saved my life.”
“I think you were pretty damned brave,” Jane said to Ricky as she dropped the tomato sauce onto the counter. The lid must have been a little loose because the movement caused sauce to splatter across Jane’s face and shirt. “Oh!” She looked down in dismay and then started laughing. “I am such a klutz! I swear I could trip walking across a completely flat surface.”
Ricky smiled down at her. He was only a few inches taller, but the difference was noticeable. “It’s kind of cute.”
Jane blushed. “It’s good that I didn’t have my heart set on becoming a ballet dancer.” She grabbed a paper towel to wipe off her face.
“Allow me.” Ricky swiped a dribble of sauce from Jane’s cheek and licked his finger. “Um…delicious!”
“Really?” Jane asked. “I’ve never tried that recipe before.”
“See for yourself.” Stepping closer, he swiped his finger through another splatter and held it to Jane’s lips.
She hesitated for a minute. Then her lips caressed his finger, and her tongue reached out to lap up the sauce, taking far longer than the process would seem to require.
Ricky closed his eyes, apparently in the grip of strong emotion. “Oh God, Jane!” In the next second, he pulled Jane into his arms and kissed her, smearing spaghetti sauce all over his shirt and face.
Elizabeth was simultaneously elated and embarrassed. This is kind of awkward. Should I leave and draw attention to my presence, or should I stay and hope they forget about me?
Before Elizabeth could decide, a cell phone rang. Jane and Ricky jumped apart guiltily, both reaching into their pockets for their phones. Jane checked her screen and made a face but then answered. “Mom? Now’s not a good time to—” Her face grew pale. “What? Where?”
Elizabeth froze, feeling adrenaline surge through her veins even before she knew what the problem was.
“Okay,” Jane said. “I’m at the shelter with Lizzy. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” As she ended the call, the phone fell to her side as though it weighed down her hand.
“What is it?” Elizabeth’s heart was in her throat.
“Lydia. There’s been some sort of car accident. It sounds bad. She’s at the hospital.”
“We have to go.” Elizabeth was already moving toward the door, nearly colliding with Lynn as she returned to the kitchen.
Ricky put his hand on Jane’s shoulder. “I can drive you.”
“No, you should stay and help with the food,” Jane said.
“Don’t worry about that,” Lynn said. “The kids can serve themselves. You’ve done the hard part already. Please, go, and don’t worry about us.”
Jane still seemed undecided.
“You shouldn’t drive when you’re so distracted,” Ricky said. “Please, let me help.”
Jane handed him the keys to her car. “Okay, let’s go.”
***
The life of an international jet-setter was not all it was cracked up to be, Darcy thought wryly as he settled into the back of the limo. Two days ago, he had been slogging through rice paddies in Vietnam. Now he was in L.A., having had maybe five hours of sleep in the past 48 hours. He had only returned home in time for a shower and a change of clothing before crawling into the limo that would take him to the premiere of In the Shadows.
He leaned his head against the back of the seat, wishing there’d been time for at least a quick nap. Undoubtedly, Elizabeth—and her whole family—would be at the premiere. He hadn’t seen her for months, although it felt like years. He’d wanted to apologize to her in person before he’d left, but multiple texts and two calls had received no response. Maybe he should take it as a sign that she had no interest in even sustaining a friendship with him, but he wasn’t quite ready to give up on her.
The trip to Vietnam should have given him time to strategize and hone his apology, but he was still tied into knots of anxiety. This is my chance to show her that I’ve taken her words to heart. I can be a more considerate human being. I respect her and don’t assume that I’m God’s gift to women.
His apology needed to be abject, but how could he manage that?