"Sometimes the greatest adventure is simply a conversation." - Amadeus Wolfe


As much as she hoped he would, Lacey had almost no confidence Adam was going to go through with making a doctor's appointment, much less calling her to go with him.

But miracles apparently did happen.

The phone rang just as she was coming in from work on Monday evening.

"'Ello?... Ah, yes she is! Jus' in fro' the cat shop," she heard Stuart inform cheerily from the kitchen.

Lacey shook her head. No matter how many times she corrected him, Stuart insisted on calling the Cat's Cradle a "cat shop." She headed into the kitchen to be ready to take the call.

"Fancy a chat wi' 'er?... All right, gi' me a moment." Stuart placed his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, "Nice, polite lad on the phone fo' ye."

Her brow furrowed as she took the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi… Lacey? It's Adam."

"Oh, hi!" she greeted, surprised. She stretched the cord to sit down in a kitchen chair, raising her eyebrows at Stuart while he stirred mac 'n' cheese on the stovetop. He attempted to distract her by pulling various faces, so she turned away.

"Is your stepdad Scottish?"

"He is Scottish," Lacey glanced over again at Stuart, who held his thumb up. "Have you ever been to Scotland?"

"I have, actually," Adam replied.

"Of course you have," Lacey smirked. "Anyway, what's up?"

"Well…I made a doctor's appointment. And I'd like you to come if you still want to."

"Really? I mean, sure. When is it?" she asked, reaching out to grab a pen.

"It's actually tomorrow at four. Is that too late notice?"

"No no, I'm good for it.

"Okay, well I'll come get you." Lacey could tell Adam felt about as awkward as she did. After all, they still barely know one another.

"Yeah, sure. Wait, you drive?" She had no idea why that question came out of her mouth.

"Uh, yeah. Of course I drive," Adam chuckled. "I came to take the toilet paper down from your trees."

"Well, I didn't notice a car..."

"I had the truck that day so I could haul the ladder. It was parked down on the street."

"Oh okay, I hadn't noticed it I guess. Try driving around two twelve-year-olds and see how much attention you pay to extra details," she smiled. "So, come around three-thirty? Is the office close by?"

"It's here in Edina, so it won't take us long. Three-thirty should be good."

They soon hung up, and even though Lacey was glad Adam had taken her advice and she was happy to support him, she was also scared to death. What would it be like to spend that much time alone with him? What if the doctor said something really horrible, and she wouldn't know what to say to comfort him? Worse yet, what if Max found out about all this?

The anxiety was enough for Lacey to flake off her acrylic nails that night and begin biting again. Once her own nails were down to the quick, she hurriedly painted on two coats of hot pink polish to distract from their shoddy appearance.

The next day after school, she was still giving herself a rundown of how not to behave around a cultured guy like Adam as she sat on the sofa waiting for him, mindlessly watching MTV.

"Mom says be home from your date by seven so we can go pick out pumpkins to carve, okay?" Halen, ever responsible, reminded Lacey.

"Halen, I've said this isn't a date. And for the love of everything holy, please don't talk about it that way around Max. Matter of fact, be sure you don't tell Max at all."

"Well if it's not a date, why can't Max know?"

"Because he just can't. Max is insecure and he asks too many questions."

Ariel snorted. "As if we ever actually talk to him about anything."

Lacey took a deep breath. "I know, but I just need to be sure. You guys talk too-"

Halen suddenly shrieked. "Whose car is that outside?!"

Lacey sat up straight, grabbing the remote to turn off the TV. She joined Halen at the window and followed her sister's eyes to the silver Porsche that had come to a stop on the street in front of their house.

"PRETTY car!" Halen exclaimed.

"Oh my word," Lacey remarked, immediately smoothing down her top and making sure she'd not dropped anything on her nicest pair of jeans in the last half hour.

"Is that Adam Banks's car?!" Ariel tripped over a pair of shoes on her way to the window.

"Okay, everybody stop staring out the window!" Lacey pulled back suddenly. "We don't want to look dumb. Come away from there!" Halen moved quickly while Ariel ignored Lacey's command.

"Oooh, he's coming up the walk!"

"What?!" Lacey rushed over and grabbed her purse, pulling out a tube of lipgloss and attempting to apply it hurriedly, but the sound of the doorbell caused her to jump and drop it.

"You should have been ready when he pulled up!" Halen hissed.

"It hasn't been five seconds since he got here!" Lacey hissed back. "Anyway, hush. And both of you, do your homework. Mom'll be home in thirty minutes."

She plastered on a cool, collected smile as she opened the front door and stepped out quickly. "Hi! Sorry about the wait. I didn't mean to make you come get me."

"Oh, uh…you didn't," Adam seemed confused for a moment. "I just came to the door because... I mean, it would be rude to just blow the horn." He shrugged shyly.

Lacey was speechless for a moment as they made their way down the front walk to his car, but finally stammered, "Well…thank you. That was nice."

She then realized he was also following her over to the passenger side. Was he going to open the car door for her, too?

"Oh, it's okay, I can get it," she rebuffed him in a light voice. Having never been on the receiving end of high-end treatment from a guy, Lacey felt embarrassed and a little intimidated.

"Okay, that's… that's fine if you'd rather." Adam stood awkwardly for a moment before turning to go back to the driver's side. Lacey could tell these behaviors were second nature to him, and she didn't want to blow him off. It was just a lot to get used to all at once.

As soon as Lacey got into the car, she felt like her eyes were going to pop out of her head. The seats were leather, the dashboard was digital and full of dials and gauges she'd never seen before, and it smelled faintly of leather and aftershave. It was, hands down, the fanciest vehicle she'd ever ridden in.

When Adam got buckled into the driver's seat, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was wearing a nice navy sweater atop a white collared shirt and finished it off with neatly-pressed dark denim jeans. She guessed this was how Eden Hall kids dressed for school.

"So, how do you feel about all this? Are you nervous?" she asked.

"Yeah, I…," but Adam seemed preoccupied by something in her house window. She followed his eyes to see two other pairs of eyes staring out through the mini blinds.

"Oh my gosh, it's my little sisters," Lacey laughed. "Don't worry about them, they're just nosy. And they really like your car."

Adam chuckled. "Oh, alright."

They rode in silence for just a few seconds, as Adam seemed to be focusing on how to get out of this neighborhood, before he spoke. "What are their names again?"

"Halen and Ariel."

Adam glanced over at her, eyebrows raised. "Wait, you mean Halen as in Van Halen?"

Lacey smirked. "Actually, yeah. My mom was a headbanger."

Adam let out a full laugh. "No kidding. Was the other one named after the Disney movie? Isn't there a princess named Ariel, or Aurora, something like that?"

"It was The Little Mermaid, but no, Ariel was named before then. My mom just heard it somewhere and liked it. She was sort of an impulse namer," Lacey added as she noted how smoothly Adam's car drove, with barely any road sound. "She named me Lacey after a TV show character. Don't ask me who."

"Lacey. I like it," he commented.

"Oh yeah? Thanks. So do your parents know where you're going?"

"Nah," he replied. "I'd rather they didn't, not until I have some answers."

"Hey, one thing at a time," Lacey responded. "By the way, you'll be happy to know Veronica and Violet are thriving. They've been putting on some weight."

"Yeah?" He glanced over at her, interested. "You mean nobody's taken them yet? Not even just one?"

"Nope," Lacey sighed. "Cats are harder to rehome than dogs."

"Well," Adam chuckled. "You have to say, cats pretty much do what they want to. Dogs you can train."

Lacey rolled her eyes. "Typical guy. You know how many men I've seen come in who want to adopt cats?"

"Like two?"

Lacey clicked her tongue. "Well, obviously you like them enough to save a couple of them from the pound."

"Yeah, well, of course. I don't want them put down or anything, I just wouldn't want to have to deal with one every day." Adam pulled into the parking lot of an upscale building with tall windows framing the front and nicely trimmed bushes lining the walk.

"So, this is your doctor's office? Swanky," Lacey couldn't help but remark.

Adam chuckled. "Guess so. I've probably only been here twice, but Dr. Bartlett's the family doctor, so I figured why not start here. I think he and Dad are actually golf buddies."

"And you don't think he'll tell him?" Lacey inquired. "I mean, if you're trying to keep this pain from your dad for now…"

"Well, legally, he can't." Adam killed the switch and opened his door. "I mean, I'm eighteen."

"Oh. Right." Lacey pulled the door handle, then paused. "Good luck. Really. I mean, I'm having faith that this is nothing that can't be easily fixed. Hold onto that, okay?"

Adam turned his eyes to meet hers briefly. "Yeah. And thanks for this."

Lacey shrugged. "To quote you from before: 'Anybody would do it,'" she smiled. "Or they should. You shouldn't have to face this alone, and if you can't trust your friends with this, hey, a perfect stranger is the next best thing."

Adam gave a half smile and pushed his door open farther to get out.

Upon entering the lobby, Lacey was uplifted by the bright, natural light streaming in from the windows and the smell of aloe. She went to sit down in one of the plush armchairs in the waiting area to await Adam's check-in. He returned shortly and sat down in the armchair across from her. She couldn't help but notice how much he was fidgeting, tugging at each of his fingers until they cracked, eyes darting nervously around the lobby. She wanted to somehow ease his anxiety, yet sensed he might need to be in his own zone right now, so she picked up a Marie Claire magazine from the coffee table in front of her and flipped through it mindlessly.

It wasn't long before Adam was called back. Before standing, he wiped his palms on his jeans. "Okay...here goes."

"You've got this," Lacey whispered, watching him walk to the attending nurse.

She sighed, setting down the magazine. She tried to be optimistic for him, but the fact was, Lacey wasn't sure what could possibly be wrong. What would cause an eighteen-year-old guy to be in so much pain and to be so tired?

Cancer.

Lacey shook her head, shoving the thought from her mind. This was classic anxiety-imagining the worst case scenario every time. If it truly was something serious, was Lacey equipped to be any type of support, whatsoever? She was a basket case, herself. She was already feeling the urge to reach up under her hair and tug on a small strand.

Deep breaths.

Trying to preoccupy herself, Lacey picked up the magazine once more and flipped through to a section about the newest hair trend: skinny highlights with lowlights. Maybe that would be a better idea for her. She'd worn the same shade of blonde for a couple of years now.

Restless once more, Lacey tossed the magazine down again and opted to just close her eyes, resting her head on the back of the chair and trying to relax. She had almost slid into a doze when she felt someone pass and caught a whiff of cigarettes and sweat.

Her head shot up immediately, and she turned around.

The man who'd passed her was older, perhaps in his sixties, with a cane and a cowboy hat. Of course. There was no way it could have been him.

My dad.

Memories flooded her head, and this time she was unable to stop them. Just like it happened yesterday, she almost literally felt the sensations of being tossed into the backseat of a car-her head hitting the door on the opposite side, her skin touching the freezing cold leather seat-

And the sound of the door slamming shut.

She would never see her mom again.

She was going to die. He would surely kill her.

Lacey jumped up, nauseated, and raced to the bathroom. She narrowly missed an older lady with a walker, and was unable to even open her mouth to apologize for fear of vomiting all over the poor woman. Collapsing to her knees in front of the toilet just in time, she retched until there were tears in her eyes and her stomach muscles throbbed.

Breathe. Breathe.

Sitting back against the stall door, Lacey breathed in deeply through her nose - held it for four seconds - then exhaled slowly out her mouth like Dr. Hemby had taught her. She imagined a stream washing away all thoughts of her father and that terrible night, and tried to envision them falling over the edge of a waterfall and into an abyss. She sat like that for about twenty minutes before peace and a sense of reality was restored to her. Then shakily, she stood up, brushed herself off, and went to wash her hands and dab at her running eye makeup.

She emerged from the restroom, still breathing deeply, when she saw the door from the check-out area swing open, Adam exiting quickly. She could tell immediately that this had not gone well.

"Adam…" Lacey took a few steps toward him, meeting him before he reached her. But after seeing the look of devastation on his face, she decided not to pepper him with questions yet.

"Let's just go, please. I want to get out of here."

She simply nodded, following him as he opened the door for her, and they emerged into the razor-sharp cold.

Lacey stirred her coffee wordlessly, clutching her fingers into her fist underneath the table at The Daily Grind booth she and Adam occupied.

The Daily Grind was a bourgeois coffee shop Lacey had only been in once, and that had been enough for her because a coffee here cost twice as much as a coffee from McDonalds. But Adam had agreed to try to calm himself down with the comfort of a hot drink when Lacey had suggested it, and he mentioned coming to the shop in Edina, the rich suburbs in which he lived. Lacey only realized he meant to pick up the tab after she had dropped a seven dollar order of a latte and a strawberry muffin. She'd been incredibly embarrassed for his extra expense, but was enjoying sitting in a warm, inviting atmosphere as the season's first light snow swirled outside. There were tiny orange and white pumpkins on vines wrapped around lit candles on each table, and a vase of arranged fall flowers on each end of the bar. The walls were light mahogany and boasted paintings for sale by local artists. Lacey wondered briefly if Yvette Landon had work displayed here.

Adam didn't touch his coffee for close to fifteen minutes.

"Arthritis," he snorted angrily. "I'm eighteen years old. Not even possible. I'm getting a second opinion. Or no. I'm just getting a new mattress. That'll probably take care of the whole thing. What an idiot."

Gently, Lacey spoke up. "Rheumatoid arthritis isn't the same thing as regular arthritis, Adam. My aunt, Rachel, has had it for years. Not that I know much about her experience, but apparently young people can have it. So, he said it might also explain your balance issue the other night?"

Adam seemed not to hear her question and just shook his head in disbelief, finally taking a sip of his cappuccino.

"And besides, he said he won't know for sure until he gets your blood work back and sees how you do in physical therapy." She leaned forward. "Adam, listen. It wouldn't be a death sentence or anything. It's an autoimmune disease that can be treated. There's medici-"

"Excuse me." The curvy barista who had just served them was suddenly standing in front of their booth. "Adam Banks? From the Ducks at Eden Hall?"

Adam slapped on a smile quickly. "Yeah?"

"I'm Jodi - from Stanfield High?" As if that was going to tell him much. "I've seen you play at our school, and I hear you've got an incredible goal record. From what I've seen, it's no wonder," she gushed, pulling her long, thick chestnut braid over her shoulder.

"Thanks," he replied amicably. "Your school's home to the Bears, right?"

"Yes, that's right! Um…," her cheeks colored. "You can have another coffee, if you like, after you've finished that one. On the house."

She wasn't sure if it was the girl's unchecked adulation that irritated her, or the fact that she had interrupted a serious conversation. Or maybe it was the way she hadn't once looked in Lacey's direction. But Lacey cut in.

"You'd do that for us? Thank you!" she beamed. "I'd like a mocha, if that's cool?"

The girl turned to her finally, her smile frozen.

Adam hunched over his coffee, but turned his eyes up to Lacey, a smile forming slowly on his lips.

"Uh, sure!" the barista chirped, turning from the table quickly.

"That was pretty mean. Why'd you do it?" Adam chuckled, tension visibly draining from his shoulders.

Lacey shrugged nonchalantly. "To make you laugh?"

"Yeah, well, mission accomplished. That poor girl had no idea what to say to you."

"Well, I mean, what even is that?" Lacey snorted. "We were in the middle of talking. And she just comes up, doesn't acknowledge me at all, and offers you six more coffees just because."

"She said one."

"But you know she would have given you six. Heck, ten. Does that kind of thing happen to you a lot?"

"Yeah, sometimes," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't mind it much when I'm by myself, but I hate it when I'm with the team. I think it makes the rest of them feel like losers when I get singled out."

"I can see that," Lacey broke off a piece of the muffin she had yet to eat. "Want some?"

"No, I try not to eat a lot of sugar. It's not good for you." Still, he was eyeing the muffin.

"Oh yeah, bet you eat only healthy stuff. To keep that energy up for hockey."

"Pretty much," he sipped his coffee again. "So why don't you like it?"

"Like what?"

"Hockey. You mentioned the other night at the game that you don't care for it. Why's that?"

His tone was light, so Lacey figured she could be honest. She sighed. "It's just…everybody in Minnesota seems so obsessed with it. I guess I just don't really get it. You guys go out there and beat each other up with sticks just over a black piece of rubber."

Adam chortled and set his coffee down quickly to keep from choking. He began to laugh again. "Wow. I've never heard anybody describe it that way."

Lacey grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, well…I guess I have that much of my mom in me. But I'm not trying to make fun of it, really, I mean…hockey's your life. How long have you played it?"

"Since I was six," Adam shifted into a more comfortable position, leaning back a little. "My brother played, so I did too. By default, I guess." He shrugged. "But then I realized I couldn't live without it. I wanted to be on skates all the time. I'd pretend I was playing in the NHL in the driveway, I'd read up on all the hockey books I could find…that's how I learned about the U.S. Olympic team that beat Russia in 1980. It just stuck with me that something as simple as a game could really inspire people. I mean, and not just the people who play it…," Adam paused. "Sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, it's okay," Lacey gave up on breaking pieces off her muffin, and just picked it up and bit into it. After brushing crumbs away quickly with a napkin, she replied. "I'm glad you're passionate about something. I think I'm still figuring out what I feel that way about."

"Well, we know you like cats."

"Oh gosh," Lacey chuckled. "Cats spell peace for me."

Adam propped his chin in his hand as he leaned in, resting his elbow on the table. "So what else do you like?"

"Let's see," Lacey took a deep breath. "I like…," she stared at one of the paintings behind him to gather her thoughts, "Big yellow roses,…Pretty Woman,… pictures of San Francisco, where I hope to live one day,…history class,…the Bangles, even though they're old,…Weezer…"

"Hey, I like Weezer!" Adam cut in. "'Island in the Sun.' Is that an odd for a hockey player, or what?"

"Absolutely it is, but I especially love 'Island in the Sun'," she smiled and shrugged. "I just like lots of little things. Stained glass windows, thunderstorms,… Am I boring you yet?"

Adam smirked, but seemed to have been listening intently. "Never thought you were boring - for the few hours I've known you, anyway. I think you like the day-to-day things that everybody else ignores. So what about college? Where are you going next year?"

Lacey paused. "Um…just St. Paul College for now. I don't really know what I want to study, so I figure why spend the money until I do?" This was a half fib, but she didn't dare tell Adam the secret that no one had the money to send her to a four-year college. Apparently, her mom made more than what was allowed for federal student aid, but not enough to afford to pay upfront. "And you're gunning for the NHL, right?"

"Well, I mean, I'm headed to NYU next fall on scholarship, but I'm counting on it leading me there. A career playing hockey is all I've ever wanted." Adam answered seriously. "Scouts have already been to my school. I'm hoping I've made a good impression so far. I mean there was…" he hesitated. "You know, the fall, but I didn't see anyone there that night that looked like they might be scoping things out. So maybe I got lucky where that was concerned." He took a deep breath, turning his mug around and around slowly with his fingertips.

"Hey." Lacey leaned in again. "You're going to push through this, okay? You've got your team, your coach, your family - when you decide to tell them. You're stronger than this. I can tell."

Adam gave just the bare ghost of a smile and picked up his spoon, mindlessly stirring the coffee again. "I'm sorry, by the way."

"Sorry for what?" Lacey raised her eyebrows.

"That I've been like this. I don't know, complaining. You don't know me that well, but I promise I'm not usually a whiner. This whole thing is just really messing stuff up. Whatever it is."

"Adam, you've got nothing to be sorry for. You're hurting and tired, and not at the top of your game, which I know bothers you because of how much you love hockey. So I don't expect butterflies and rainbows from you."

Adam nodded, his eyes betraying gratitude.

For the next hour, the two of them continued to chat. He asked where she got the spoon ring she wore on her right index finger - it had been her mom's - and she learned he had a brother who was a civil engineer in Chicago. He loved Metallica, and she harbored serious affection for the song "Eternal Flame." He'd been devastated for weeks when Optimus Prime had died, and his secret favorite movie was…

"Jerry Maguire? Really?! There it is - proof that men can appreciate romance after all." Lacey laughed and took a last gulp of her free mocha.

"Yeah, well it was good for all kinds of reasons. I'm a sucker for a good story," he mused.

It was then that Lacey caught sight of the big coffee cup clock on the wall behind the register. It was 7:05 p.m.

"Crap!" Lacey set her mug down harder than she meant to. "I gotta go. We're supposed to take the twins to the pumpkin patch and Mom said she and Stuart were leaving at seven sharp."

"Oh! Okay, come on." Adam stood quickly, grabbing his coat and scarf as Lacey scrambled to do the same. Adam laid a ten dollar tip on the table. "Surely they'll wait just a few minutes."

"Not necessarily," she pushed open the door with him on her heels. "You don't know my mom."

Adam rushed, maybe a little too quickly (Lacey noticed he seemed to take the speed limit as only a suggestion), pulling in front of her house just as the reverse lights on the back of Stuart's station wagon flashed on.

"Wait, wait!" Lacey jumped out of Adam's car and waved frantically.

Stuart rolled down his window. "Come on then, lass!"

She leaned back in to say goodbye to Adam. "Thanks for the coffee. And keep me posted, okay?"

"I will." Adam hesitated a moment. "See you sometime, then?"

"Come by the Cat's Cradle," she replied. "Check in on Violet and Veronica."

"Okay, will do." Adam smiled warmly, "Thanks for everything."

"Lacey!" she heard her mom shout impatiently from the passenger side of the station wagon.

"No problem. Okay, bye!" Lacey shut the door and then stood dumbly, watching as Adam pulled away from the curve and headed down the street, turning left at the stop sign and out of her sight.

"What's wrong with you?!" Ariel howled out her window. "We gotta go!"

"Okay, okay!" Lacey darted around to the other side of the station wagon, wondering for a minute if Adam had noticed the old beat-up vehicle, but immediately felt ashamed of herself and opened the backseat door, squeezing in beside her sisters.

"Sorry, we went for coffee."

Her mom turned to glance at her from the front seat as Stuart began to back out of the driveway. "Is that all you and Richie Rich were doing this evening?"

"Mom," Lacey began, "I was just helping him with a…a project. We went to The Daily Grind for coffee, and I got a-"

"The Daily Grind. Do you know how much their coffee costs?" her mom cut in, incredulously.

"I know, but…well, he paid for me. I mean, I didn't ask him to…," Lacey grimaced, closing her eyes. She knew she was making things worse by the minute.

The car was quiet, at least until Ariel sneezed, which Lacey suspected was a cover-up for a giggle.

"One question, Lacey. Why? What in the world do you and that boy have in common? He's Phil Banks's son for heaven's sake." Mom rolled down the window and fished in her purse for her lighter and cigarettes, but Stuart reached over and stilled her hand.

"No' while the bairnes are in the car," he whispered.

Mom sighed noisily and rolled the window back up.

"Mom, Adam is not his dad. He's actually really nice, and you know what? He has problems just like we do. His life isn't perfect. And he's never once said anything to make me think he's looking down on us." Lacey felt the tension seep into her voice.

"Friendship shouldn't have anything to do with money, Mom," Halen spoke up from beside Lacey.

"Halen, you're twelve. You have no idea," Mom snapped.

But before Lacey could say anything, Stuart firmly cut in. "No more arguin' and unpleasan'ness. 'Tis pumpkin patch night. I assure ye the next one who starts it wi' be carryin' the pumpkins all by themselves."

Despite Stuart's obvious joke, it was plain to everyone in the car that he still meant business. All went quiet until Halen murmured, "I like the pretty, fake white ones I saw at Kmart."

"Yeah, well you can't carve those, dummy," Ariel replied.

"Ariel," Stuart warned gently, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Do ye 'ave enough muscle to carry four pumpkins?"

Ariel immediately stopped talking, and Lacey saw Stuart smile a little as he turned his eyes to the road again.

All in all, the evening was a good one. Each girl, including Lacey, picked out a pumpkin to carve, and Stuart and Mom picked one to carve together. This was a yearly tradition for the family that Lacey felt too old to engage in, but each year found her eager to do it yet again.

After their visit to the pumpkin patch, they went home, had far too many of Halen's ghost-shaped sugar cookies, and carved pumpkins at the table for more than two hours. By the end of the night, Ariel and Halen were falling asleep at the table.

Lacey and her mom had remained quiet around one another ever since they had nearly gotten into a fight about Adam in the car earlier. No one had mentioned it in the hours since, but Stuart caught her eye as they each carved pumpkins on opposite sides of the table. He winked at her, and suddenly she felt a lot better. She gave him a knowing smile.

Stuart loved her mother more than anything in the world. But Lacey knew he knew she wasn't always fair.

Nevertheless, as Lacey began helping collect the soda cans and cleaning up cookie crumbs before bed, she looked up at her mom's long, curly, brown hair pulled back in an orange barrette, a perfect complement to her Halloween black cat sweater, and smiled.

"You look so pretty tonight, Mom."

Her mom looked up from where she'd dropped the dirty dishes into the sink to finish in the morning, and raised her eyebrows. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You always do, you know."

Her mom looked back to the sink, a slow smile spreading halfway across her lips. "Well. It's not every day my kid tells me I look nice."

"I mean it." Lacey came over, giving her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight."

She turned and was about to make her way to her room just as her mom replied quietly. "Goodnight, Lacey. And thank you."