Let's Pretend We Never Met by Melissa Walker

Author:Melissa Walker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-04-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

This morning, Agnes knocks and she’s holding out her hands in two fists when I open the door.

“Pick one!” she says.

I tap her left hand and she opens it up to reveal Josh Jensen’s ring, back in bow form like I’d never untied it.

I slip it onto my finger, knowing I won’t wear it to school anymore but also so glad it’s back to its real shape. “Thank you.” I wish I had something more to say. I can tell by Agnes’s smile that she knows how much I mean it.

Then she shows me her door. It has the white hearts that we cut out of lacy paper earlier this week. Agnes framed them on pink and red tissue paper so apartment 914 looks like a love explosion. I tell her that and she says, “Oh good! I was going for LOVE!”

Valentine’s Day is soon, and I got a card in the mail yesterday from Lily and Josephine—a joint one. I guess it was nice of them to remember to put a real letter in the mail and everything, but the stamp and the envelope and the way they signed it together made me feel even farther away from them.

Agnes says her mom has to work and she wants to come with us to my grandmother’s today. When I call to ask Maeve, she gets a singsong in her voice and says, “Of course. Tell that lightning bug I’ve been waiting for her to visit!”

Mama always works Saturdays at Blue Sky Bakery, so Daddy and I have been going to Maeve’s house on the weekends a lot. She’s doing a big “packing-up” project with some of her things for a yard sale, and I’m helping her. Maeve has trouble labeling the boxes. I found one marked “kitchen” that was full of summer clothes, and another marked “Felix” that had gardening tools in it. Dad said that Felix had been their cat when he was a kid, but that didn’t explain the gardening tools. So it’s good that we’re there. Also, she stumbled on her front steps over the weekend and she has a badly sprained wrist—I want to sign her cast.

It’s unusual to be with Agnes on a Saturday because she and her mom usually spend weekends together since Mrs. Davis works so much during the week. I guess that’s part of Mrs. Davis being “present” and “balanced.” I also suspect that Agnes has therapy on weekends, but she’s never told me about that, so I don’t bring it up.

I like being friends with Agnes, as long as we’re at home and it’s just us. So I’m nervous when Daddy drives us into the city to Maeve’s big old row house. But the moment we walk inside, I realize it’ll be okay.

It’s not because Agnes is polite to Maeve—most kids are like that with grandparents. And it’s not because she tells Maeve right away that she likes how the sun hits the blue-gray stones on the walkway outside. It’s

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