Page 71 of This Could Be Us
“If you have to say it,” Deja giggles from the back, “we know you’re not.”
We get through a few songs before I pull into Deja’s driveway.
“Tell your mom I’ll talk to her later,” I call as Deja and Lupe climb out. “Call me when you’re ready, Lu. I’ll come get you if Yas can’t bring you home.”
“It’s just a few blocks,” Lupe protests, her hand on the door. “I can walk.”
“Not at night. Nope. Either they bring you home or I do, but you are not walking.”
“Whatever.” After a beat, she leans over and kisses my cheek. “Love you, Ms. Charles.”
I grin like I just won the lottery. My daughter is proud of me. “Love you too, baby.”
I’m still grinning when I pull into my driveway and my cell rings. It’s an unknown number, and I would usually let it go to voice mail, but at the last PTA meeting, a few Harrington moms mentioned calling about some spaces they needed redecorated.
“I’m gonna regret this,” I mutter before accepting the call. “Hello.”
“Soledad, hi. This is Delores Callahan.”
I almost drive through the garage door without lifting it, I’m so taken off guard.
“Oh. Delores.” I put the car in park so I can focus. “Hey. How are you?”
“I’m fine, but let’s skip the pleasantries.”
Right. Because who wants to be pleasant when you can be… Delores?
“Of course,” I say. “Was there something you needed?”
“Yes, we’re looking for someone to cook for the Christmas party at the house.”
“I cater some small dinner parties, but I’m not—”
“I would consider our executive Christmas dinner a small party. Smaller than three parties in one day at the Harvest Festival.”
I wouldn’t think Delores would have heard orcared aboutthe Harvest Festival.
“You could prepare the food on-site if that’s easier,” she continues as if I weren’t in the process of turning her down. “A small city could fit in Pop’s kitchen. He has like three ovens. And you wouldn’t have to worry about cleanup. The same company that cleans the offices comes to clean up at the house after the party.”
“Look, Delores, don’t you think it would be kind of awkward for me to handle the food considering my ex-husband stole a lot of money from your company?”
“We bear you and your girls no ill will,” Delores says, her usually gruff voice smoothed with something close to kindness. “And weprobably wouldn’t have gotten most of that money back without your help.”
“If I do this,” I say, “and that’s still a big if, I would prepare the menu we agree on and I’ll make sure everything’s set up, but I don’t want to attend the party. I don’t want to see everyone.”
“Pop’s assistant, Willa, usually handles a lot of details and hosting. You could hand most of the on-site stuff off to her.”
“I’m not sure,” I hedge.
“We pay generously.”
Now that gives me pause. Christmasiscoming. I’d like to be able to get the girls a few things they really want, but even more, I’d like to not work much at all once they’re on holiday break. I could do a few easy sponsored posts, but otherwise, I want to get some quality time with my family.
“Can I think about it?” I ask, rubbing my tired eyes.
“Yes, but don’t take too long. Typically we’d have this settled already.”
“Typically your cousin Eileen does the party, and we know how vile her food is.”