Chapter 20
Lucy
I wake up still in my jeans. My makeup is half on the pillow and half on my face. My mouth tastes like the inside of a wine bottle, which is a feeling I have not earned because I had less than one drink last night, and my cheek is stuck to my own hair.
I don’t move for a long time. Across the room, on the back of the chair by my desk, is Benson’s hoodie folded the way I folded it at midnight.
I look at it for a count of ten. The collar is darker on one side than the other where his blood went into the cotton and dried.
I look away and reach for my phone. I have no messages.
Not from Mara, who always texts the morning after a party.
Not from Gianna, who usually texts overnight. Not from him.
My back is sore like I slept in tight jeans. I wipe eyeliner from the corners of my eyes. I yank myself out of bed and walk to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and hop in the shower. I turn the water hot as I stand under it and let it soothe my sore muscles.
When I come out, I put on sweatpants and a Camden U Math Department t-shirt with a small hole in the armpit. I towel my hair and open my bedroom door.
Gianna is at the kitchen table, and I almost jump in surprise.
I thought she’d hate me after last night and not come home.
She has a mug of coffee in front of her, her own sweats on, and her hair in a low bun.
She doesn’t look hungover. I can tell she’s been thinking, and when her eyes meet mine, they’re not harsh.
She pushes a mug towards me, so I take it.
“Good morning,” I say, wrapping my hands around the warm mug and take a seat at the table.
“I talked to Benson last night,” she says flatly.
I inhale, not expecting to dive into this right away, but it looks like she’s been waiting for me. “Okay.”
“Did he tell you about it?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t have his number. I don’t have any way to talk to him.”
She nods, taking a sip. I take a sip too.
“I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to tell me the truth.”
My gut sinks. “Okay.”
“Did you kiss my brother?”
I blink. Well, shit. I consider what he might have said to her last night, but Gianna wants to hear it from me, so I’ll tell her. “Yes.”
She nods like she expected the answer. “He didn’t say anything last night, but I sort of put it together.”
“It just sort of happened, and then we talked about it yesterday morning. And we both agreed not to do anything more.”
“But last night?”
I shrug. “I’m just as confused as you are. Oh, I mean, nothing happened last night when he walked me home. He walked me to the door. He gave me his hoodie.” I swallow, thinking about him on one knee. “That’s what happened.”
“His hoodie is in your room right now?”
I nod, feeling flushed. “On the chair.”
Her hands are still wrapped around her mug. She hasn’t taken another sip, so I haven’t either. I hate to see her overthinking it, so I say, “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head gently. “Stop.”
“I—”
“Lucy, I don’t want the apology. I want to talk to you about what we’re going to do.”
I take a sip and wait.
“I told my brother last night that he needs to switch tutors.”
My stomach tightens.
“And that he needs to give you space. And that he needs to stop pursuing this until you have time to figure out what you actually want, without him in your face.”
I stare at my hands. “Okay.”
“He agreed to that.”
I nod. “Okay.” What else am I to say?
“He’s going to call the tutoring center on Monday. And your schedule won’t be so hectic. I’m sorry. I know that is a lot to lose for you, but it is the only version of this that works for everyone.”
“Yeah,” I say, but I don’t even know what I’m thinking. Sure, the money’s great, but tutoring Benson was easy and enjoyable.
“I told him a lot of things last night, Lucy. About me. You know, about being his sister and his shadow.” She’s told me this over the years. She continues, “About — about you. About your life. About what you have been carrying.”
I look up. She can’t be serious. “Wait, what did you tell him?”
“I told him about Bear,” she says. “I told him about your mom. I told him you have been the parent in that house since you were young. I told him you paid for Bear’s field trip out of your tutoring money.”
I stare at her. “Are you serious?”
She stares at her coffee mug.
I can’t find the words, but what comes out is, “That wasn’t yours to tell, Gianna.”
“I know,” she replies quietly.
“That was mine.”
Her eyes flick to mine. “I know, Lucy. But he needed to understand who he was messing with. He needed to know that you are not — you are not a girl with the time or the bandwidth for a captain who is going to Vancouver in six months. He needed to know what your actual life looked like.”
“Gianna, that wasn’t your call.”
“I’m sorry.” She rests her face on her palm and looks at her coffee. “I really am. I was angry and I was hurt. I went too far. I should have talked to you. I should’ve followed you home, and I didn’t. I opened my big mouth. I’m sorry.”
I stare at my coffee too, feeling defeated. I shake my head because there’s nothing we can do about it now. “It’s okay. We had some to drink, and everything was a little crazy last night.”
She nods, and there’s a beat of silence. It’s not awkward or full of tension. It’s just flat.
She asks, “Are we — are we going to be okay?”
I look up at her beautiful face that I’ve watched in dorm rooms, dining halls, and once at mom’s house because my mom was having a severe depressive crisis and the house needed to be cleaned.
I couldn’t do it alone, and Gianna came without being asked.
Her face has been the most reliable face in my life since I was eighteen.
“Yeah, Gianna. We’re going to be okay.” I offer a small smile. “Of course.”
Her shoulders come down half an inch. “I need a little space from the situation. Not from you. I need a few days where we don’t talk about my brother. Where we just hang out. Where we order takeout and watch Love Island, and I can pretend I don’t have a brother for a while.”
“Yeah. Okay. Today, I was planning to go back to my mom’s house.”
“Oh,” she says, confused.
“Yeah, last night I left my bag there with all my school stuff by accident. Tyr wanted to see my math homework.” I lift my brows.
“I can’t imagine a man named Tyr.”
I chuckle. “It fits him. He has the energy of one.”
“The energy of a tire?” she questions.
I motion with my hands. “Yeah, he rolls everywhere, I swear. He has like ADHD or something. He’s good for my mom.”
She laughs. “Weirdest name ever.”
I nod in agreement.
“When are you gonna be back?” She takes a sip of her coffee. “I want to finish this season so bad.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours. Probably going to hang out over there and see what a Saturday is like there.”
“Okay.”
The drive is forty minutes, and I don’t remember most of it. The car pulls left, but I correct it without thinking. The wheat in the fields was gold-dry two weeks ago and it’s rust now. I pass the Tecumseh exit and get off at the next one. I’m grateful for the quiet drive.
I pull into the driveway at eight-thirty. The yard is mowed weekly now, and last night for dinner, Tyr and Bear did the dishes together. Seeing my mom happy still stings, but it stings a little less when we have a real conversation about life.
I get out of the car, walk up to the front door, and stop with my hand halfway to the knob. I remember, halfway through the motion, that I should knock now. There is a man living here now and walking in with a key without knocking feels wrong.
I knock, and the door opens. Bear is playing on his Switch but paused it because he was expecting me.
“Your bag’s on the table.”
I step inside and close the door behind me. “Thanks, Bear. Did you eat Camdenkfast?”
It’s an automatic question, but as soon as it comes out, I smell the bacon.
He nods. “I did.”
For a second, I have to get myself together.
It’s been a few weeks, but I’m still not used to Bear being cared for like this.
In the kitchen, Tyr is at the stove. Not too long ago, the cereal bowls with spoiled milk lined the counter.
I’m not sure when I’ll shake the feeling, but this still all feels new.
When Tyr sees me come in, he turns, and his face lights up. “Lucy. Hey. We were expecting you, so I made extra food.”
I glance down at what’s on the counter. It’s not just bacon. “Pancakes?”
“Yeah. Yes.”
Bear says, “Can I eat some more. Please?”
Tyr looks at him and then at me. “Sure.”
He turns back to the stove. My heart pitter-patters for a moment, wishing it were my mom at the stove every day.
She comes around the corner, dressed in jeans and a sweater I’ve never seen before.
She already has makeup on, and the sight hits me right in the gut.
Something must be wrong, really wrong. I look her up and down and don’t understand the day and night shift she’s made in her life just because of Tyr.
Something’s not clicking, and it makes me uneasy.
“Lucy, baby. Good morning.”
I smile softly. “Good morning, Mom.”
She crosses the kitchen and hugs me. Her arms go all the way around my shoulders, the way they did when I was a kid, before she let herself go. She smells like new perfume, and her sweater is soft. When she kisses my cheek, I still. I don’t know what to do with myself, but she moves to Tyr.
“That smells really good, babe.”
Babe? I cringe. I glance at Bear who’s still playing on his Switch.
We sit at the kitchen table, and this is the third time we’ve had a meal together as a family since Tyr has entered our lives.
Tyr puts pancakes and bacon in front of me and an extra fluffy pancake in front of Bear.
He gives my mom a tiny pancake and a few pieces of bacon.
He pours me coffee in the mug with the chip on the rim, which is the mug I used to use when I lived here.
He pours my mom a second cup. He sits down across from me with his own plate and says, mid-bite, “Lucy, you have to hear this.”
I glance around, heartbeat racing around my body. “Hear what?”
“I’m working on a kitchen reno in Tecumseh. The couple is very nice. The kitchen is very nice. The contractor before me was not very nice. Installed the upper cabinets a full half inch out of plumb across the entire run.”
“Half an inch?”
“Half. An. Inch.”
Bear with his mouth full says, “So?”
“So the doors don’t close, Bear. So when you try to put a plate in the cabinet the door swings back open at you. So you cannot put a wine glass on the upper shelf without it falling out. So the wife of this couple has been trying to use this kitchen for six months and she has been losing her mind.”
Bear says, “Why didn’t she tell the first guy?”
“She did. He told her she was wrong.”
“Why didn’t she fire him?”
“She did. She fired him and called me. I have been there for three days, and I am taking down every cabinet in that kitchen and rehanging them properly, and her husband keeps coming in to make sure I’m doing the job right. I have to keep showing him the math.”
Bear nods. “Oh, that’s why you’re telling Lucy.” He looks at me. “She’s the math wiz.”
My mom smiles, glancing at me. “That’s my girl.”
I cough when I hear those words.
“You okay?” she asks. “Drink some water.”
I grab my glass and drink because she’s watching me. It’s odd to be here and have my mom now. I begged her for years to get up, and she only did it for a man. I put the cup down and glance at Tyr.
“Sounds like you’re good at math, too,” I say to him.
He shakes his head. “That stuff you were explaining to us last night was wild. Really out of this world.” He sips his water and puts his hand out. “I was thinking, Lucy, that we would go to the arcade later today and maybe play some mini golf.”
I look at Bear and my mom. “Really? You guys are doing that?”
My mom nods. “Do you want to come?”
The words at the tip of my tongue don’t come out. I want to scream at her. I want to ask her if she’s fucking serious. I want to wake up from this weird dream. And then she calls my name, and I realize I’m just staring at her.
I shake my head. “No, sorry. I have things I need to prep for my tutoring sessions this week.” My brain reminds me that I work my ass off to pick up her slack, which I don’t need to do anymore, clearly. “One of my students has a big paper coming up, and another has a makeup test to do.”
“You got one hell of a daughter,” Tyr says.
I turn to him. “Tyr, do you have kids?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. That’s why I’m lucky I found your mom.”
I shrug. “Well, why not?”
“I can’t have them.” He nods.
“Oh,” I mutter. “I’m sorry.”
He leans back. “It’s alright. I found the perfect family.”
I reply, “I wouldn’t say perfect.”
My mom laughs. “You know what he means.”
“Yeah, but––” I shrug. “I mean, look around.”
My mom puts down her fork. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tyr says, “It’s fine. It’s fine.”
My mom shakes her head. “No, I want her to finish her thought.”
I put my fork down and look up at her.
She nods. “Tell us what you really think, Lucy. Come on. I want to hear it.”
I look back at her, and there she is. Her real self is crawling out of the facade. Her tone isn’t so sweet now. I glance at Tyr to see what he’s thinking, and he’s awkwardly stacking food on his fork.
She says, “That’s what I thought. If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say it at all.”
I take another bite of my pancake as the house falls to silence. I eat until I’m full and then I turn to Bear, “Have fun today.”
He nods, and I wish he would beg me to come. It sounds ridiculous, but I feel unwanted in this house, and it’s eating at me. I look down at my plate and scoot myself out of the chair. It scrapes against the floor. I start washing my dishes.
Tyr says, “It’s okay. I’ll do it.”
My mom whispers something, and he drops it.
I put my clean dishes in the drying rack, grab my bag, and then I turn around and say, “I’ll see you guys on Wednesday. Bear, call if you need anything.”
“He won’t,” my mom says, taking her last bite of the pancake. She pulls the fork out of her mouth and waves.
“Bye,” I mutter, and leave.
When I get into my car, I don’t cry. I turn the music all the way up and drown out the thoughts in my head. There is no sense in what’s going on in that house right now, and I don’t have the bandwidth to start unpacking it.