The Do-Over Read Online Free PDF

silvery-blue color.”
    Stella nodded. “Celia helped with the bottle design.”
    Janie watched Celia sit up taller. “I’m a singer, but I paint a little. We decided that pink was what women think they should like, but it isn’t restful. I mixed the blue and silver and came up with Abundance blue.”
    “That’s why I picked up the bottle.” Janie refilled her teacup. Celia was so simply pleased with herself, Janie wanted her to keep on feeling that way. “Tell me about your singing, Celia.”
    “In high school she was in the Vancouver Junior Chamber Choir.” Stella delivered the pride of it with a gruffness that made Janie want to grin at her.
    “That was two years ago.” Celia sighed like an octogenarian recalling the beauty of her youth. “Now, I’m trying to be a professional singer. I’m saving my money to make a really good demo tape to send out.”
    Janie wanted to hug the girl. She had everything ahead. “That’s great, Celia.”
    “If business picked up, I think I could have enough in about six months.”
    Dylan sat back from his twice-filled and now empty plate. She’d also noticed the three glasses of caffeinated soda he’d downed. If he was anything like Logan, he’d take a breath once he was full, and then start over again. “We all get part of the profits.” He motioned to Stella and Celia.
    Stella snorted. “Nothing motivates lazy teenage boys like money.”
    Janie had certainly learned that one. If no one had come up with the allowance system, homes would be overrun with snack wrappers and filthy socks. “So, Dylan, what are your plans?”
    Dylan shrugged, the non-committal guy answer Janie had come to learn meant either I don’t want to talk about it or there is literally nothing in my head at this moment . Occasionally, she suspected it meant both.
    Stella gave a scratchy laugh. “He plans to invest in cars.”
    “Do you restore them?” Janie asked him.
    “He just tries to get girls to ride in them.” Stella raised her eyebrows.
    “Even girls who don’t let guys drive.” Celia gave Dylan the kind of smile a little sister torments a brother with.
    Dylan picked up the challenge. “What’s that thing your Grandma says about leopards changing their spots?”
    Celia laughed. “That they can’t.”
    “Oh.” Dylan shrugged her off and reached for another round of dinner.
    Janie felt a wave of missing Logan. He’d be, maybe at the same very moment, eating an obscene quantity of food and shrugging off most of a dinner conversation with his grandparents. He was growing up, and, she was sure, enjoying his time away. She would enjoy hers too. “I’m really glad I came to Vancouver. I love Gastown already.”
    Dylan shrugged. “It’s better than Strathmore. I Left there when I was fifteen, and I’m never going back.”
    Never going back. The words, said with such certainty, made her feel both queasy and breathless. Not that it mattered. She was going back, going back right after dinner.
     
    She was going back right after dessert. “You’re right, Stella, this is real apple pie.” Janie looked across the Formica topped table then around the old-fashioned diner. The booth’s upholstery held the red a good vinyl ought to, but to be even more authentic, the place needed a waitress with gray-blue locks gathered in a hairnet.
    Janie discretely checked out her own hair, reflected in the gleam of the napkin dispenser. The highlights glowed in the wash of florescent overheads. The haircut and cleavage had been nice boosts, but the feeling of pure enjoyment she’d had all evening was enough to make her dizzy. She’d expected to feel awkward during the dinner, but she’d been treated like she always joined Abundance for Teriyaki Tuesday. Now, alone with Stella, she sipped her coffee and waited.
    Stella stopped eating, returned the look, and took a deep breath.
    Janie knew this time Stella was going to say something really profound, something wise, something inspiring that would