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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THERE WAS A RING ON HER DOORBELL AND DYLAN SIGHED, expecting another fruit cake or basket from a neighbour. They had already taken over her kitchen counter and dining table and she was slowly growing tired of eating stale cake and unripe fruits for every meal.
"Hello—" She greeted as she pulled open the front door. "Oh, it's you."
Steve stood in front of her, his hands shoved in the pocket of his jeans. "Yeah, it's me."
"Is there a reason you're on my doorstep?"
"Want to go for a ride?"
She stared at him. "Are you inept?"
"Maybe," he grinned nervously. "I know you're still mad but I'm not going to just give up and not fix this. So, get in the car."
She crossed her arms. "No."
"You're getting in the car, Dyl."
Dylan sighed and began to shut the door. Steve stuck his Nike-clad foot in the door way, blocking it open and then stepping inside.
"Oh, great," she said sarcastically. "Come in."
Her mother turned the corner, leaving the kitchen. "Dylan, honey, who was at the door?"
Marsha Holland glanced up, her face lighting up when she saw Steve. "Oh, Steve, dear! It's good to see you. Tell your mom thank you for me, the picture she had of Barb blown up was just beautiful."
Her mother pointed to the wall beside them where a large, black and white picture of Barb was placed in an expensive frame.
"Yeah," Steve said awkwardly. "It's really nice, Mrs. Holland. I'll make sure to tell my mom."
"Hmm, thank you, Steve," her mom replied. "Are you two going out? It'd be good for Dylan to get out of the house — she's been holed up in this house since Barb's funeral."
"Mom!" Dylan rolled her eyes. "We aren't going—"
"Yes, Mrs. Holland," Steve smiled politely, making it inherently obvious why he was a hit with parents everywhere. "I was just taking Dylan for a little trip outside town. Probably grab a bite, you know, get her mind off things."
"Oh, wonderful," her mom said softly. "I worry about her sometimes. You always were my favourite friend of hers."
"Okay, just pretend like I'm not here." Dylan mumbled.
"You two have fun now," Marsha Holland urged them. "And Dylan—your dad and I aren't going to be home tonight. We're going to the city for dinner and then we're going to stay at your Aunt Celia's instead of driving in the dark. It's supposed to snow."
"Okay, mom," said Dylan grudgingly, a little mad her mom had signed up her up to hang out with Steve. "You guys have fun — you deserve it."
Dylan kissed her mom on the cheek and slipped on her shoes, following a smug Steve out the door.
