After work, I rang the bell to the mansion and stood there fidgeting. Mom hadn’t answered a single text all day.
Maddy was in the pontoon on the dock, playing games on her phone waiting for me. She’d sent me like an ambassador for Rust Water Cottage to try to convince Mom to leave.
It was never going to happen. I knew this. But Maddy wouldn’t let it go unless I tried—and really, I should try. Maddy was right, this whole situation was a ticking time bomb.
I had this sinking, sickly feeling of being out of control. A gnawing anxiety of what was to come. Mom always made me feel like this, I realized. When she was here, when she wasn’t here. A gaping, bottomless impending feeling of doom.
I rang the bell again in quick succession. A few seconds later I heard a bolt lock turn and when the door finally opened, it was Maria.
“Hi, is my—”
“You here for your madre?” she said, annoyed. She pushed the door open and stood with her arms crossed while I peered past her into the house. The door opened to a large vestibule, and beyond that was a spacious living room. Huge vaulted ceilings, white sofas, a shiny black baby grand piano—and Mom, on a ten-foot ladder with her back to us… painting a
wall?
I blinked at her. “What—Mom, what are you doing?” I called.
“She can’t hear you,” Maria said. “She has to have music for inspiration.” She put her fingers in quotes. “Ésta casa se está yendo a la mierda,” she mumbled. “Already like she owns the place.” She threw up a
hand. “Well? Come in.”
I walked into the house.
Mom stood at the top of the ladder barefoot in denim capris. She wore a men’s button-down shirt knotted in the middle with the sleeves rolled up, probably Neil’s. It was too big to be hers. Her long hair was tied back into a red bandana. Half a dozen brushes and paint cans sat open and scattered on a clear plastic sheeting under the ladder. I was practically underneath her before she spotted me. “Emma!” She pulled out her earbuds. “You’re back!”
She set her brush on top of the paint can she was using and started down the ladder. “I’ve been waiting all day. What do you think?” She gestured to the mural she was working on, beaming.
I peered up at it. Large colorful roses. It was a whimsical design. Bold and beautiful.
Mom had always been artistic. I remembered the time she did face painting at a Renaissance fair for a few weeks when I was ten. She’d paint my face first and then let me run loose for the rest of the day to watch the roving performers and pet baby goats in the petting zoo. It was one of the best summers of my life.
This summer was up for debate.
“It’s nice,” I said, watching her climb down. “But is Neil okay with you doing this to his wall?”
She got to the bottom rung and hopped off. “Who do you think paid for the paint? I pitched the idea to him this morning and he loved it.” She put her hands on her hips and looked up at it. “I mean of course he did, look at this place, it’s like living in an asylum. All this white, it’s depressing. I’m going to do the whole wall, top to bottom, first thing you see when you come in. It’s going to change his life, completely different energy.”
I studied her while she studied her work. She looked good. Her makeup was done, she seemed rested. She seemed happy. The light scent of her rose perfume reached my nose like a gentle whisper telling me to relax.
She snapped her fingers and turned back to me. “Oh!” she said, like she just remembered something. “Come with me to the kitchen. I got you something.”
She grabbed me by the hands and walked backward a few steps before turning to lead me through the house. I followed in the wake of her
perfume, peering around. The home was enormous. And she was right, it was white—and stark and slate and cold. It was all very… surgical.
“This is old money,” she whispered, nodding at an expensive-looking vase on a pedestal. “It just feels different, right? Sort of regal.”
“He lives here alone?” I asked.
“I think so. Well, Maria has a room somewhere, but that’s it.” She looked over her shoulder and gave me a wry look. “Did I tell you what he does? A surgeon.”
“Uh, I know. I work with him at Royaume.”
Mom stopped to gawk at me. “What?” She paused for a dramatic moment. Then she burst into sparkling laughter. “Well, I guess it’s nice I’m showing him a good time then!”
“Mom, I have to talk to you about that—” “About what?” She cocked her head.
“I just… he’s our landlord and Maddy and I have to work with him and
—”
“And?” She blinked at me innocently.
“It just… it feels like a conflict of interest for you to get involved with him.” I hoped it came out diplomatically. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I also needed her to understand the stakes.
Her expression turned amused. “Emma, we are two grown adults. What does it even have to do with you?”
I licked my lips. “Things don’t tend to end well with you and men. I can’t afford for this to implode. Please.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sweetheart, I know that in the past I’ve picked some winners. Believe me, I know. But this guy is different. He’s good at his job, he’s got all these awards everywhere. He owns things, no criminal record, he’s sweet, and he goes to therapy—”
“He goes to therapy?”
“Yeah. He’s really focused on self-improvement. Our therapists sound a lot alike actually.”
I blinked at her. “You have a therapist?” “Yeah, I told you.”
I shook my head. “No, you didn’t.”
“I’ve been going for like two years now. It’s virtual.” I shifted on my feet. “Well… well what do they say?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Lots of stuff. She’s expensive as hell.
Insurance won’t cover a dime. But I haven’t missed one session.”
I felt a weight on my chest lift. Therapy. Never, in my whole life, had she gone to therapy.
“Mom, that’s really great,” I said, relief in my voice.
“Baby, I am doing so well. I have never been this Zen. I’m in a really good place, you’d be so proud of me. And Neil? He likes me. I like him. We’re having fun. Nothing bad is going to happen, we’re just enjoying each other, I don’t want you to worry about it.”
I let out a breath. I still didn’t feel a hundred percent, but what else could I do? I couldn’t make her stop seeing him. All I could do was let her know my concerns and hope she’d behave.
“Okay,” I said. “I won’t worry.”
“Good.” She turned and started walking again.
She gave me a tour as we went, showing me all the things Neil must have shown her. Expensive paintings, sculptures he’d picked up during his travels. An office with a view of the pool and about a million framed degrees and diplomas on the walls.
When we got to the kitchen, she stopped in the doorway and held out her arms. “Here we are! Ta-da!”
I looked past her into the room. The large granite island was covered in white buckets full of flowers. Every inch.
“What is this?” I said.
She left me in the entry and breezed into the kitchen to pluck a peony from the water. “I stopped at a farmers’ market on the way back from the paint store and there was a stand with the most beautiful flowers and I thought, Why not? We need to brighten this place up.” She sniffed the petals.
I shook my head at the room. “How did you afford all these? Did you buy the whole stand?”
“Yup. And paid them fifty bucks to drop them off. Neil gave me his Amex and told me I could get whatever I wanted for the house.” She lowered her voice. “What’s-her-face is supposed to be putting them in vases, but I swear to God that woman moves like she’s being paid by the hour.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m going to have these all over when he gets home. I got some potted herbs for the kitchen, heirloom tomatoes
for a caprese before dinner. And smell this.” She put the peony back in water and brought a candle to me and held it under my nose. “Roses.” She smiled. “Soy, handmade, organic goat’s milk candles. I’m putting them everywhere.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “I made gem water too. Put rose quartz in a spray bottle, misted all over the bedroom. Enhance the love energy and improve the qi—it is way off in this place. I mean, he’s a Taurus with Mercury in Aries, so it all makes sense looking around here, but still.”
She set the candle down on the counter and peered around the cavernous kitchen. “You know what? This man needed me.” She gazed back at me thoughtfully. “I think he’s been sleepwalking. I’m going to wake him up.”
I felt my face soften, despite myself. This was the Mom I loved.
This was my favorite version of her. The vibrant, happy, spiritual one who made my Halloween costumes by hand, and they were always so good the other kids were jealous. The Mom who turned an old shed in the yard of our rental into a beautiful playhouse, the Mom who woke me up on my birthday with confetti pancakes covered in gummy bears and those trick candles that don’t blow out.
It was so easy to love this version. Maybe she would stay this version. Maybe she was doing okay. Getting help. Settling down with age, wanting something steadier.
And maybe she and Neil were different. She was right, he wasn’t like the men she usually dated. He was stable and educated. He had his own money. He didn’t need anything from her but this.
For a second, I let myself imagine. Pretended that five years from now I’d be coming here for Christmas. Maybe they’d be married and she’d be comfortable, living with all this wealth and privilege, and he’d be happy because his life had been graced by a beautiful, charming muse.
I wanted it so badly. Even though experience and common sense told me not to hope, it burst into life inside me anyway.
“This one’s for you,” Mom said, turning and reaching into the sea of buckets. She pulled out one filled with red roses. “For the cottage. I know you love them.”
The corner of my lip quirked up. “Thanks.”
“Are you hungry? I was going to make my garlic lemon shrimp with polenta for dinner. Neil won’t be home until late—I guess the guy works a million hours a week or something—but I can start it now and we can crack
open a bottle of white. You should see the wine cellar, oh my God, it’s amazing. You go grab a bottle and I’ll start the sauce—I want to hear all about Justin.” Her eyes sparkled.
I deflated a little. “I can’t, Maddy’s waiting for me in the boat.”
Mom put her lower lip out. “I feel like I haven’t even seen you. Go get her, she can eat with us.”
“No,” I said, a little too quickly. “I… it’s just we’re tired. We worked today. Maybe tomorrow?”
She sighed deeply. “Okay.” Then she bounced a little. “This is going to be the best summer! We’re together again, we’re both in love—”
She came over and hugged me. I breathed her in and my muscles relaxed.
Roses.
 |
When I came back out to the pontoon, Maddy was lying on her back on one of the ratty vinyl seats with a straw hat over her face that she must have found in a storage compartment.
“Hey,” I said.
She whipped the hat off and sat up. “God, finally. What took you so long?” Then she eyed the bucket of roses I was holding. “Uh, what’s that?”
“Mom gave them to me,” I said, setting them into the boat.
“Okay. Random.” She looked back up at me. “Well? What did she say?” I breathed in deep. “I think it’s going to be okay.”
She looked skeptical. “Okay. Okay how?”
“She’s in therapy. I think she’s trying to be different,” I said.
Her face immediately called bullshit. “Right. So she’s what? Going to squat here until she goes off the rails again and Neil throws her out? Then we get to apologize for her and God knows what the fuck else?”
I blinked at her. “Maddy, what do you want me to do? I can’t control her. I can’t tell her to break it off. And why can’t we just give her the benefit of the doubt for once?”
“Because she sucks? We’re gonna end up paying for the shit she steals and then we get to work with him in the aftermath until we leave.”
“You don’t know that—”
“Yeah, I do. You should warn him. Tell him what she is so he can make an educated decision whether to keep messing with her.”
My jaw set. “No.”
She pulled her face back. “No?”
“No. I’m not going to sabotage her relationship.” “So you’re okay with him dating a psychopath?” “Do not call her that!” I snapped.
Maddy looked at me in shock. I never yelled at her. “You know what?” I said. “Go home without me.” Her mouth dropped open. “What? Why?”
“I don’t want to see you right now.” She gawked. “You’re pissed at me?”
“Yeah, I am.” I shook my head at her. “I am so tired of this, Maddy.” “Then be mad at her! Not at me for pointing her shit out!”
“You think I don’t know?! You think I don’t fucking see that something is wrong with her?”
She blinked at me. I’d never admitted this. Not like this.
I shook my head at her. “You want to warn him, Maddy? Go ahead. Ruin her chances for a normal life with a normal man, send her back out into the universe where I won’t know where she is or if she’s even alive. Go ahead. But I’m not doing it. I’m not going to undo whatever progress she’s made in therapy by throwing her past back in her face and trying to destroy her life when she’s trying to be better. Leave her alone.”
She stared at me, shocked.
I turned and started for the house. “Emma!”
I kept walking. My eyes started to tear up. I hated fighting with Maddy. We almost never argued. But why wouldn’t she just let me have this? This one thing?
Mom had never been in therapy before. She’d never met a nice guy like this before. Maybe things could be different, and I just wanted Maddy to see that and let me have my stupid, pitiful fucking hope.
I made my way back through the pool area to the French doors off the kitchen to find Mom. But when I got to the door, I saw Neil through the glass.
He must have come home early. He was standing with Mom by the center island beaming at the flowers. Mom was hugging him and he had his hands under her ass.
I pivoted to put my back to the side of the house before they saw me. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to cry. When I opened them, I could see Maddy already pushing off the dock and heading to the cottage.
I took in a shuddering breath and went down to the pool. I plopped heavily onto a reclining chair by the cold firepit just as thunder rumbled overhead.
I wanted to sob. For half a dozen different reasons, I wanted to sob. I wasn’t going to admit defeat and call Maddy back to come get me. I wasn’t going to be the third wheel with Mom and Neil either. I didn’t have a car, Maddy had the keys.
I swiped at my tears with the side of my hand. I could feel myself getting small. Shrinking into myself the way I always did when something stressful or awful happened. Retreating into my own brain.
When I got like this, I didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone. I could shut down for days. Turn off my phone, call out of work, abandon my social media. Not answer the door for anyone or anything, cut off everyone until I felt safe enough to start to let them in again a little at a time. But I had nowhere to vanish.
I wasn’t home. I didn’t have my wallet or my purse—they were in the boat. I was sitting on a pool chair, out in the open, still wearing my scrubs with a storm rolling in. The sun was going down. In a few minutes the mosquitoes would start to come out.
I sat there, feeling overexposed and getting more and more upset and there was nothing I could do to hide from it and no place to bury myself and nowhere to go. My chin quivered.
Then my phone chirped.
Justin: How was your first day at work?
I sniffled and sent a thumbs-down emoji and put my face in my hands.
My phone started to ring. I raised my head and watched it chime for a few long moments. And I don’t know what part of me decided to answer before I got too small to do it, but I did.
“Hey,” I said. I tried my best not to let him hear the thickness in my throat.
“Hey. What happened? Why was it bad?”
I rubbed my forehead. “It’s a lot to explain.” I paused. “Do you want to have dinner? My night just freed up.”
It wasn’t a quiet room behind a closed door, but it was somewhere to go. I’d be with someone safe and removed from what was happening with Mom and Maddy. And at least I wouldn’t be outside, sitting by a pool, hoping I didn’t set off the motion sensor lights after it got dark.
God.
I had to move the phone away from my mouth because I wanted to cry.
“Yeah, I can totally do dinner,” he said. “But I’m babysitting. I didn’t think I was going to see you, so I told my mom I’d watch Chelsea.”
I felt myself deflate. “Oh. Okay. That’s all right. I’ll just see you—” “No, come. I’m making spaghetti. We can watch a movie or something.
Can you get over here? If not, I can pick you up.” “Justin… I don’t think I should meet your family.” He laughed a little. “Why?”
“Because I don’t do that with guys I date.”
“Aw, come on.” He sounded amused. “She’s four. It’s not like you’re meeting my mom. And anyway, I met your mom. What’s the big deal? Besides, I’m not really a guy you’re dating, right? What are the rules for curse-breaking arrangements? I feel like there’s wiggle room.”
I let a small smile crack.
“My dog is here,” he added. “You can meet Brad.” I did want to meet Brad…
I drew in a long breath through my nose. “You know this isn’t going to count as one of our dates, right?”
“I zero percent care about that.”
I looked up and peered out at the shrinking image of Maddy boating off into the distance. Behind me I heard Mom shriek with laughter from somewhere in the house. I really didn’t want to meet Justin’s family. Not even the four-year-old. It was a rule I didn’t break. Ever.
But I had nowhere else to go and no one to go to. Nowhere to be small. “Okay. I’ll call an Uber.”
|
Justin’s mom’s house was a two-story in a quiet suburban neighborhood. There were little butterfly flags in the planters and a red tricycle by the garage. The driveway next to Justin’s car was full of children’s chalk drawings.
This was the kind of house that had a bouncy slide in the backyard during birthday parties and Christmas lights on the holidays. I knew without knowing that on Halloween Justin’s mom handed out candy dressed in a costume while jack-o’-lanterns flickered on the steps, and on Easter she’d hide pastel eggs around the yard.
It was funny, but seeing this brought Justin full circle for me. This is why he was well balanced and level. He’d had a good childhood. I could tell. And I wondered if it was as obvious that I hadn’t.
Justin had come out onto the front porch to meet me when my Uber pulled up. The second I saw him I was glad I came. He wasn’t Mom, and he wasn’t Maddy. He was a break. And he was happy to see me. It was impossible not to feel better when I saw him as I got out of the car.
“Hey,” I said, coming down the walkway. He went right in and gave me a hug.
It was nothing but friendly. He didn’t hold me for longer than he should. But I found myself sort of wishing he would have. I needed the hug, I realized. And Justin was a really good hugger. Warm and firm, like he’d given and received a lot of hugs in his life.
He was in a T-shirt and jeans. He hadn’t done anything with his hair like he had yesterday. It was shaggy and loose the way it was the day we video called on his walk. I decided I liked this better. It was the kind of hair you wanted to run your fingers through. The kind that came with lazy Sunday mornings and familiarity.
He looked at what I was wearing and smiled. “Scrubs.” “I came right from work.”
I heard a dog-crying noise from the door and peered around him. Brad was scratching at the screen.
Justin nodded over his shoulder. “Come on. Meet my dog.”
The little Brussels Griffon bounced off my legs in the vestibule, and I knelt down to pet him.
“Justin, he’s so cute!” He licked the underside of my chin and I laughed. “He’s better now that the mange is gone,” Justin said. “I guess he is
pretty cute these days.”
Brad lunged to lick me on the lips, and I fell backward on my bottom and burst into laughter. Justin was beaming from his spot by the door. Then I saw the little girl peeking around the corner. She had wispy brown hair and Justin’s brown eyes. She was barefoot and wore a light blue nightgown.
“Hello,” I said.
She pulled back a little, only one eye visible from the doorframe.
Justin crouched. “Chels, come here.” She paused for a moment, like she was thinking about it. Then she darted into his arms. He scooped her up and stood. “This is my friend Emma. Can you say hi?”
She peered at me shyly as I got to my feet. “Hi,” she said softly. I noticed a Band-Aid on her knee. “Oh, did you get a boo-boo?” She nodded.
“Emma’s a nurse,” Justin said. “Maybe she can change your Band-Aid for you later.”
“An Elsa one,” she said, quickly.
“We have those,” Justin said, winking at me. “I can work with that.” I smiled.
She put her head on Justin’s shoulder and my heart melted a little. He was her safe person. The dog was sitting by his feet now too and I remembered what Maddy said about dogs, that they always tell you who the good people are.
Justin nodded toward the back. “Dinner’s ready. Let’s go eat.”
I followed him through the house. It was a comfortable home—the lived-in kind. The living room had a sofa with a gray tweed slipcover, a multicolored carpet. A dark wood coffee table, a toy bin next to a child-size easel. A backpack was tossed onto a chair, framed family photos sat on a buffet table against the wall.
“Did you ever live here?” I asked.
“Yeah, but not until I was sixteen, so only for a bit. Sarah has my room now.”
“So you lived with Brad longer than you lived in this house.”
“I did,” he said. “We had an almost ten-year streak. There was a three- month period where he was living with his girlfriend Celeste in South Dakota, but it didn’t last.”
“He couldn’t quit you, huh?”
“Not until now.”
The kitchen had a stainless fridge with photos and children’s drawings stuck to the front. There was a blue backsplash and a wooden table to seat six in the breakfast nook. Justin put his sister in a chair with a booster seat and pulled one out for me. Then he moved to the stove and started plating pasta.
“It’s nothing fancy,” he said. “It’s jarred sauce. I kinda spruced it up a bit, put in some red wine and some ground beef. But I did make the garlic bread.”
“It smells good.” My stomach grumbled, and I realized how hungry I was. I’d barely eaten at work. The anxiety of finding out about Neil had killed my appetite.
“So tell me about your day,” he said, over the stove. I scoffed a little. “Guess who I work with?”
“Who?” He put a red plastic plate of food in front of his sister and gave her a fork.
“Neil.”
He stopped to stare at me. “No way.”
“Yeah. He’s a surgeon. Chief of surgery actually.” “Are you serious? He’s your boss?”
“The charge nurse is my boss, but Neil could still make my life miserable if he wanted to. So yeah.”
Justin set a cup of juice with a lid in front of Chelsea and put a piece of garlic bread on the plate he was serving and placed it in front of me. The garlic bread was a half of a toasted hot dog bun that he’d smeared with butter and sprinkled with dill and garlic salt. It made me smile. The meal was the kind of thrown-together one Mom used to make. It was comfort food.
It was exactly what I needed. “Thanks,” I said.
“So are you still worried about the Amber thing?” He handed me a Starbucks napkin and a glass of V8 fruit punch and then sat with his own food.
“I don’t know,” I said, looking at the napkin. “It’s not great.”
He nodded at the napkin. “My mom,” he explained. “I never, in my entire childhood, used a store-bought paper napkin. They were all from fast-
food places. Not that we’d eaten out a lot. One or two times a month if we were lucky. But Mom was very good at coaxing extra napkins out of cashiers.”
“Where is she tonight?”
He twirled his pasta in his fork. “Cleaning an office building. Sarah’s at a sleepover, and Alex is at an amusement park with a friend. He’ll get home before Mom and then we can leave. He can watch Chelsea. No meeting the parents, as requested.” He smirked and took a bite.
I gave him a look. “It’s not personal. I just don’t do that.”
He swallowed. “No, I get it. I get the full Amber/Neil/Maddy death- threat submersion experience and you just get to vibe.”
I snorted. “I’m sorry. Am I the a-hole?” He smiled. “Nah. You’re all right.”
We ate dinner and I told him about the whole day while I helped Chelsea color a picture of Elsa. I told him about Mom painting the wall, the flowers, the fight with Maddy. He mostly listened. When I finished the spaghetti, I asked for seconds and he got up and served me more.
“Do you think Maddy’s right?” I asked. “Should I tell him?”
He sucked air through his teeth. “That’s hard,” he said, putting my plate in front of me and sitting back down. “If she’s turned over a new leaf, I can see why you wouldn’t want to get involved. It’s kind of messed up to bring up old stuff. And it’s not like he’s marrying her or something, they’re just having fun, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let them have fun. Let him make his own decision about her. The guy’s not an idiot.”
I nodded, feeling a little better about my decision. Chelsea squirmed in her seat. “Jussin, I’m done.”
He set his fork down and got up again. “Okay. Let me clean your face and then you can go watch Frozen until bedtime.”
I watched him take a wipe and get the sauce off her mouth and her hands. When he let her go, she ran out of the kitchen toward the living room. He followed her to put on her movie. I smiled after them.
When he came back, I was washing dishes.
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, coming up next to me as I set the pot in the drying rack.
“It’s no problem, Jussin.”
He grinned and picked up a towel to start drying. I’d already loaded the dishwasher and started it, it was just the big stuff left to wash.
“Do you babysit a lot?” I asked.
He laughed dryly, but he didn’t get to reply. The sound of a door slamming came from the front of the house. Justin checked his watch and leaned back to peer down the hall. “Alex? You home? You’re early.”
But it wasn’t a teenage boy who came down the hallway, it was a young girl with a pink backpack slung over her shoulder.
He wrinkled his forehead. “Sarah. I thought you were spending the night at Josie’s.”
She looked around the kitchen, bored. “She’s being a bitch. I don’t want to hang out with her.”
“Uh, does Mom let you talk like that?” Justin said. She rolled her eyes. “You asked me.”
“How did you get home?” “I walked?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you walking alone at night. You need to call me next time.”
“It’s like three blocks—” “I don’t care. It’s late.”
She looked annoyed. “Fine. Whatever.” Then she looked at me. “Who are you?”
“This is Emma,” Justin said.
“Is she your girlfriend?” she said, looking me up and down. “Yes.”
The corner of my lip twitched. I know we’d agreed on that title, but it still surprised me to hear it out loud.
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
I’d never seen someone roll their eyes without actually rolling their eyes, but she somehow managed it anyway.
“There’s spaghetti—” Justin said.
“I ate at Josie’s. I’ll be in my room.” And she left.
Justin looked at me with an amused expression while we listened to her stomp up the stairs and slam the door.
“She’s twelve and at the hating-everything stage,” he said. “Were you
like that when you were twelve?” he asked, taking the cookie sheet from me to dry.
“I didn’t have the luxury of being like that. I had to be invisible.” He drew his brows down. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I couldn’t really be needy or crabby. It just made Mom worse. And then when I was in foster care, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.”
“Why?”
“Because being difficult is the best way to get sent back? Or getting the crap beat out of you?”
He stopped and stared at me. “Did anyone ever do that to you?”
I looked at the sink as I scrubbed it out. “I have seen the good, the bad, and the ugly of the foster care system, Justin. And there’s definitely all three. Maddy’s parents were the good. I got really lucky with them.”
A little twinge of guilt stabbed at me suddenly, remembering I wasn’t going home for the anniversary party. It didn’t stab at me because I felt bad I wasn’t going. It stabbed at me because I felt bad that I didn’t feel bad.
What was wrong with me? These people had saved me.
Maybe Maddy was right. Maybe I was aloof to a fault. Except with Mom. With Mom I felt everything, all the time.
“What are you thinking?” Justin asked, snapping me out of it. I looked up at him. “Was I making a face?”
“A little bit.”
I started rinsing the sink. “I’m thinking that my mom takes a lot out of me. And that maybe she doesn’t leave anything for anyone else.”
He nodded slowly like he understood.
“There’s this thing that I do,” I said. “It’s… never mind. It’s hard to explain.” I shut off the water.
“No, explain it,” he said, handing me the towel. “Tell me.”
I leaned my hip on the counter. “I have this thing where I get small,” I said, looking at the towel as I dried my hands. “I get really withdrawn and I just want to be alone.”
“Everybody feels like that sometimes.”
I shook my head. “No. It’s bigger than that.” I stopped and he waited for me to go on. “When I was little, I couldn’t really count on anyone. I mean, really I couldn’t. My mom was so all over the place and we were always
moving. I’d get a friend or a teacher I liked and then they’d just be gone because I’d go live somewhere else. So I became an island—and the island is small. I don’t need anyone. And I know that sounds sort of terrible, but it’s actually comforting to know that I have this ability to need no one. It feels like a superpower. Like I’m untouchable.”
He was studying me quietly, listening.
“Usually Maddy is on the island. And Mom is on the island. Everyone else is on the shore. And sometimes I wish I could go get them, but I just… can’t. I don’t have the space for them. And I know that it hurts people, but it’s just who I am. And it makes me feel like a horrible person.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re a horrible person. I think you went through something horrible and that’s who you needed to become to get through it.”
“Maybe.” I had to look away from him. “I’m sorry. I’m just in a funk today.”
He dipped his head to look me in the eye. “You only have two people on your island and you’re worried about one and fighting with the other one. I’d be in a funk too.”
I gave him a little smile. “You know, I was almost too small to come here tonight.”
“I’m glad you did.”
The corner of my lip turned up. “I’m glad I did too.”
