He glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes till Mom got home. He was just about to go into the family room and play a video game when he changed his mind. Getting his backpack, he dug out his math book and got to work on homework. Mom would be shocked. He’d made his way halfway through tonight’s problems when the phone rang.
“Adams residence.”
“Hi, Cody, it’s Mom.”
“Are you on your way?”
There was a slight pause. “Look, Cody, I’m really sorry, but I’m going to be late.”
“That’s okay. We don’t have to be there until four thirty.”
“I’m sorry, honey, but—”
“You can still make it, Mom. You have plenty of time.”
“I’m sorry, honey, but there’s nothing I can do. Something came up at work—”
“It’s always work.”
“Cody . . .”
He squeezed his eyes shut. Hard. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. “You promised.”
“This is important.” She didn’t say anything for a long time, like she was waiting for him to say something. But he was done talking. No one ever listened anyway.
“I’ve already called Parker’s mom, and they’re going to pick you up,” his mom said after the silence had gone on forever. In the background, he could hear someone calling her name. “Honey, I’ve got to go.”
She paused again. Then, finally, “Bye, Cody. I’ll get home as soon as I can.”
He hung up the phone. After a moment, he rushed over to the table, grabbed his homework, and ripped it into a million little pieces.
He caught his reflection in the large mirror on the wall. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks. He ground his fist into his eyes. He was such a baby. A big fat crybaby. Who cared if his mom came or not?
He looked into the mirror again, saw his blotchy, tear-streaked face and the bright white of his uniform. Turning, he ran up to his room as fast as he could and ripped his uniform off. Shrugging into a pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, he went back down and slipped on his favorite pair of sneakers. His mom hated these sneakers. She kept telling Cody to throw them away because they were so old and torn. But Cody wouldn’t get rid of them.
Without wasting another moment, he tore out the back door and grabbed his bike out of the garage. Who cared about a stupid old game? With tears streaming down his face, he pedaled as hard and as fast and as far as he could.
Jenny stared at herself in the full-length mirror and tried to recognize the woman she saw staring back. Her face was pale, her hair limp, her eyes dull and rimmed in red, and the black suit she swore she’d never wear again hung on her frame, testifying to all the weight she’d recently lost.
From the time she’d turned fifteen, she’d done the ten-pound battle, trying everything under the sun to shed it. Low carb. No carb. High fat. Low fat. All fruit. No fruit. But what little weight she managed to lose would always come right back, refusing to stay off. Until nine months ago when, on a warm August night, a drunk driver blew through a stop sign and took from her the only thing she’d ever truly wanted.
Those ten pounds she used to think so important fell off her. And then another ten. She knew she was bordering on too thin, but most days she could barely manage to choke down more than a bite or two. The only real meal she ate each week was the lunch with her mom, and she only finished that because it was easier than the verbal battle that would follow if she didn’t.
How could everything have gone so wrong in such a short amount of time?
The panic and despair she’d been fighting to keep at bay since Jared had left demanded to be let loose.
She would never sell. Never. She would brave the lion’s den—or the banker’s office, as the case may be—to save her and Steven’s dream.
The drive into Hidden Lake had never seemed to take so long . . . or go so fast. Before she had fully gathered her thoughts and courage, she was maneuvering into a parking spot right out front of the bank. Purse and file folder in hand, she entered the bank. She stopped a few feet inside, letting her eyes adjust. The two tellers—Sue and Monica—called out a greeting. Jenny waved to them and the only other customer in the bank, Mr. Denton, but her mind was elsewhere.