Count

19. Normal-ish

Things returned to, well, if not normal, then something resembling normalcy. (I doubted I would ever again be truly normal.) Sergio and I were together. I ate more, exercised more, and gained back the couple pounds I'd lost after we split up. Ms. Neil commented that I looked brighter, and Katie said it was good to have me back.

I hadn't called my mom in a while, so one Saturday evening, I did. "Hi, Mom," I said when she answered. "Do you have time to chat?"

"Yes! I'm just finishing up lunch, and then I have to take Yasmine to swimming practice, but I can talk for a bit." London was six hours ahead of Houston, Texas, where my parents lived, so since it was 6:30 here, it was 12:30 there.

"Great. How are Dad and the kids?"

"The kids are fine," said Mom. She spoke in a rush, random noises in the background. "Both are getting A's in school. And your father tried to fix the kitchen sink this week and made things ten times worse."

That made me smile. Classic Dad, taking on projects far beyond his capabilities.

"How is our sweet Katie?" she asked.

And that was classic Mom. She probably loved my best friend more than she loved me. But that was okay, because I loved my best friend more than myself, too. "Katie's doing fantastic. She has a big exhibition coming up in a fancy gallery."

"Tell her we're so proud of her!"

"I will."

"Are you going to bring a boy?"

I groaned and plopped down on my bed. "This again?"

"I just want to see you settled, that's all," she said in that tone she used when she was about to sneak in a lecture. "You're not getting any younger."

"I'm only twenty-five!"

"And it's high time you found a nice young man to take care of you."

I didn't want to start an argument, so I relented in a way that didn't expressly agree with her. "As a matter of fact, I have met a boy." I didn't tell her how much I liked him out of fear that our relationship wouldn't last long, and I'd be getting my mother's romantic hopes up for nothing. "We've been on a few dates."

"Oh, that's wonderful, honey! Are you taking him to Katie's art show?"

"I hadn't thought about it."

"I have to go now, but it was great talking to you. Bring him to the show."

"Yes, Mama," I said.

"I love you."

"Love you too." I hung up the phone. Calls home were a bittersweet mix of soothing and stressful.

I picked up the phone again and called Sergio, inviting him to Katie's exhibition.

It took place a week later.

Sergio picked me up and drove to the gallery: a modest, trendy venue of exposed brick squeezed between two boutiques. He looked dashing in a crisp white shirt, a navy jacket slung over his shoulder. I wore a matching dress patterned with navy and white flowers. "You look divine, mia cara," Sergio told me outside the entrance, kissing my cheek.

"Thank you," I replied. "You look quite good as well." He held the door open for me, and once I'd stepped through, I said, "Come in and meet Katie," so that he could cross the threshold.

Katie stood in the center of the first room, glowing from all the attention. When she spotted us, she excused herself from the group she was chatting with and sped over. "I'm so glad you could make it!" she said, giving me a huge hug (and Sergio a slightly less huge one).