35
Sage
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EARLY SUNDAY MORNING, I called my mother and took the coward’s way out: I pretended to be sick. Of course, she didn’t believe a word of it.
“Sick, hmm? That’s convenient,” Mom replied tartly.
Even though I was lying, I was a little perturbed by her reply.
What if I really had been sick?
“What is that supposed to mean? I’ve been ill the last couple of days and thought I’d feel better by now. You know being surrounded by kids all day, it’s easy to catch something.”
She sighed. “Well, I guess there’s nothing we can do but reschedule.”
I groaned inwardly.
“I’ll just call Harrison and see when he’s free again.”
“Mom, don’t reschedule. Please. I really don’t want to have dinner with him.”
“But—”
I cut in. “Look, you have to quit trying to set me up. I’m not interest
