Gimme Everything You Got - Iva-Marie Palmer Page 0,117

trying to take your mom’s place. I’m a mess.” Polly took another messless spoonful of soup. “You may think you screwed up, but all I’ve seen is a girl who handled her father’s remarriage with nothing but grace. I appreciate that. And I adore you.”

“Um, thank you,” I said. I wanted to say something nice back but I was still confused.

“That wasn’t too much like I was trying to be your mom, was it?” Polly said, holding her breath as she waited for my answer.

“No,” I said. “It was like you.”

She got up from the booth and sat down next to me. She hugged me and I hugged her back, grateful that my dad had picked this person and had once picked my mom. He had good taste, for someone with a bad haircut.

I was crying a little when we let go. “Dad hates me, though,” I said. “He’s never going to look at me again.”

Polly waved this away. “Your dad still has some things to learn about women. And honestly, he was so shocked by the whole thing that it gave me a good opportunity to discuss female sexuality with him.” She put a hand up to her mouth. “I’m sorry, that probably grossed you out.”

“You owed me,” I said, laughing a little. “But seriously, I do feel really bad that I left, and the whole . . . incident. I saw your wish book. Those things were not in it.”

Polly laughed. “My wish book is a fantasy, Susan. There’s a picture in there of a couple making their vows while they sit on white horses on a beach.”

“Sounds nice. As long as you like horses.”

“Sure, it sounds dreamy, and when I was younger, I did think about this big day and had so many expectations. But my real life is better, because it’s mine. Like sitting here with you right now? I’m not going to forget this, even if the circumstances getting here aren’t the kind of thing you glue into a wish book.” she said. She reached across the table and put her hand over mine, and she didn’t start speaking again until I looked into her eyes. “Wishes are great and fantasizing is fun, but when it comes down to it, some of the stuff we cook up in our heads probably would not be as great as we think it would. And then some stuff—like for me, having a relationship with you—might not be what we imagined, but is something so much better.”

“But what about when you go for something that isn’t vows on white horses, but more realistic? And maybe you get it or almost get it, but it ends up being disappointing?”

“I guess you try to not let disappointments turn you into someone who stops trying,” Polly said. She sounded like my mom talking about going for the job she wanted even if it didn’t work out. Maybe that was why they got along. “Or into my mother.”

“It’s weird that you’re related to her,” I said.

“Thank you for that,” Polly said.

“I know you’re right, but sometimes figuring out what I want in real life scares me. Like getting this necklace after wanting it so much. Now I have it and I’m afraid I could lose it someday.”

“And you might, but does that mean you never want to wear it?”

I shook my head and pulled the necklace box toward me. “Can you help me put this on?”

“Of course.” Polly gently lifted the necklace from its box, and I held up my hair as she looped it around my neck. Her cool fingertips fastened the clasp, and she turned me around to admire it.

I liked the weight of the necklace, and the coolness of the metal. I’d wanted it so badly last Christmas. Maybe what Polly had said wasn’t entirely true. Some wishes did turn out exactly like you’d hoped.

Thirty-Two

I sat in front of my mirror, looking at my necklace.

Polly was right. I might never have fantasized about soccer, and I had found it only because of a crush on Bobby, who had disappointed me. But that didn’t change how much I loved the game. Maybe there were pages in my mental wish book that I should tear out and other ones that I could write anew. I could make something happen, even if it was a colossal failure.

I was going to get a real game against St. Mark’s.

And maybe it didn’t have to be a failure. When we kicked their asses in reality, it