Oxblood Read Free Page B

off.”
    â€œYeah, I’m on for the closing shift tomorrow, but I’m all yours today, baby,” Tiffany kissed the top of my head and returned to egg-scrambling duty.
    They smelled heavenly, the cheese melting on top like molten lava, and I couldn’t wait to dive in. Gil used to make breakfast for me every Sunday morning our first year here. He would read the paper, and I would read novels I’d check out of the library. I used to think those were activities we did because we enjoyed them. After a while, I realized that we both read because we didn’t know what to say to each other—terrified we’d mention Mom or Dad and one of us would fall apart. Sometimes talking seemed like a dangerous venture. But each day became a little easier, and one day Gil said he read something Dad would have found funny and neither of us cried.
    â€œDo you want to go window-shopping at Aventura today?” Tiffany asked. Window-shopping was mostly all we did at the mall, although Tiffany tried to convince me on several occasions that the sales were of apocalyptic proportions and important enough to break out the debit card to the settlement money. If I wouldn’t use the money for a car that was younger than me, I certainly wasn’t going to use it for a great price on a pair of Prada shoes neither of us had an excuse to wear—even if they were totally badass grommet, suede, peep-toe booties.
    â€œSure. And maybe we can have dinner at The Cheesecake Factory,” I suggested. “Gil usually takes me there for my birthday. Just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean I can’t still go.”
    â€œWe’re going to have a perfect day!” Tiffany squealed.
    After enjoying my birthday breakfast, I checked my email to see if Gil had written yet. It was usually in my inbox around noon—but I had no new messages. Maybe he was waiting until tonight to send it at the exact time I was born. Last year, he held out and didn’t say anything about my birthday until exactly nine forty-two at night.
    I tied my hair on top of my head and took a quick shower. It wasn’t much, but the slate blue paint on the walls, the scented candle, the knock-off version of the expensive shampoo and shower gel, and the rain showerhead Gil gave me for Christmas last year made my bathroom feel like a spa.
    Tiffany pulled an outfit from the extra clothes she kept in my closet, and we got ourselves as swanky as we could get for the upscale mall. Dressed in the designer jeans from the consignment store and some trendy costume jewelry I found at Versona, we transferred our things from our junkie purses to the knock-offs we bought at the flea market last summer and drove to Aventura.
    We tried on clothes and acted aloof with the store clerks. I used to feel badly, but they seriously treated you like you were Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman if you didn’t. Well, I suppose all the stores weren’t like that. We hit Hot Topic, where Tiffany bought an ironic boy band shirt.
    When we walked through the makeup and fragrance section at one of the high-end stores, Tiffany, of course, told one sales clerk that it was my birthday.
    â€œWe normally only do partial makeup to feature products from our line, but you have to let me do everything!” The girl, not much older than me, clapped her hands together in excitement while I rolled my eyes. Tiffany gave me a shove and told me to sit down and enjoy being taken care of.
    â€œFine, but I better not look like one of those Real Housewives when you’re done,” I said with a laugh. I never dressed up or went anyplace nice, so I rarely wore makeup. Sometimes Chad and I went to a movie, but I usually cooked dinner for us at my place. I may have rolled my eyes as the makeup girl started, but it actually felt pretty good to relax and let her wave her magic brushes over me.
    When my face had been thoroughly blended with foundation, my cheeks made rosy pink