Chapter Twenty-Six Ice Cream Always Helps
I stare at my phone for several long moments after Noah hangs up, not believing what just happened. On Friday he told me he loved me, and on Monday he broke up with me. Sadie rubs my back.
“What happened, Meera?”
“He…” My voice cracks. “He’s upset. He and his father saw the article. He says we’re a disaster, that I cared more about being his savior than being his partner.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “And honestly, I can’t blame him.”
“Oh, Meera. I’m sorry.” Sadie hugs me, and I let myself cry in her arms.
I’m not usually a wallower, and I always assumed I’d handle breakups like a champ because I was too smart to delve into self-pity, but what the heck do I know about anything?
I get why they call it “heartbreak.” Even though that term isn’t really right.
It should be “heart-rip-in-two.” “Heart-pulverize.” “Heart-destroy.” I actually feel physical pain, in my stomach, in my head, and behind my eyes.
How could I have screwed up this much?
Sadie gets me a box of tissues from the living room. I take one and blow my nose, making an embarrassingly loud noise.
“What can I do to help?” Sadie asks.
I shrug, wiping my eyes with a fresh tissue. “Nothing. He doesn’t want to talk to me. And my mother seems to have abandoned me. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
Sadie tilts her head compassionately. At least I still have Sadie.
I could never really understand why cousins and sisters were different from, or better than, friends.
But hanging out with Sadie all summer taught me.
She’s like a good friend, but a good friend who understands me because she knows my family from the inside.
“I’m glad you’re my cousin now,” I say to her. Because I’m apparently a sloppy sentimentalist when I’m heartbroken.
“Right back at ya, Meera.” She goes in for another hug and squeezes me tight. “You know what’s the absolute best thing after a breakup?”
I raise one brow. She’s probably going to suggest movies or sad music. Movies I can handle, but music will only make me think of Noah.
“Ice cream. From Callista’s Creamery. I can get Liv to bring us some?”
I nod. Callista’s Creamery is this adorable shop that makes homemade ice cream on Main Street. “Salted caramel.”
Sadie picks up her phone. “On it. We got you, Meera.”
About thirty minutes later Sadie, Liv, and I are in the living room, each with a little carton of ice cream. The salted caramel is helping, actually more than I thought it would. But I’m still sad.
“It all really sucks, Meera,” Liv says after we tell her what happened. “I can’t believe Kaitlyn would do something like that. It’s such a”—she pauses, then glances at Sadie—“Randell Academy thing to do.”
I scowl. “The school that Mom’s enrolling me in.”
“Don’t let her,” Liv says. “Pineview is better if you have to stay in town. Randell kids are… phony.”
“Backstabbing,” Sadie adds. “This jealousy is so toxic. Neither you nor Noah ever did anything to her. Noah getting a gig doesn’t remove her opportunities in music. And it’s not his fault that he’s, like, monumentally more talented than her.”
I stab my spoon into the carton, scooping out a big spoonful of ice cream. “It’s not just talent, though,” I say. “Noah works his ass off. He deserves all the opportunities he gets.”
“And Kaitlyn thinks she’s entitled to be a pop star because she’s rich,” Liv adds in a monotone.
Kaitlyn and I weren’t exactly close, but I still can’t believe she did this to me. “And it wasn’t just because of Noah. They wrote it because Stuart Chambers doesn’t approve of Jason marrying my mother.” I tell them what Kaitlyn’s dad said to Noah and me at the country club.
“Disgusting,” Sadie says. “The club is still mostly rich white men, and there are many who would prefer that it stay that way.”
I exhale. “Noah’s right. There’s no point in trying to fit into their world, because people like them will do anything to make sure we stay below them.”
No one says anything for a while, because they know I’m right.
“By the way,” Liv says. “James, Reagan, and Quinn are disgusted with Kaitlyn too. Especially Quinn. He said you probably don’t want to talk to him right now, but he told me to tell you he’s appalled, and he’s already drafting a rebuttal op-ed, and if he can do anything else, let him know.”
I smile. It’s nice to know that not all the country club crew are terrible.
“Your mother doesn’t deserve any of this,” Sadie says. “I know you two aren’t really getting along right now, but I adore your mom. She’s such… Don’t take this the wrong way, but she really is an inspiration.”
I shake my head, laughing bitterly. “How is she an inspiration? Since she got here, she’s done nothing but take tennis and golf lessons and cook dinner every night.”
Sadie frowns. “I mean with that teen clinic she and my mom are trying to open.”
I drop my spoon and turn to look at Sadie. “What teen clinic?”
“I don’t think it’s a secret,” Sadie says, clearly surprised I didn’t know.
“My mother, yours, and some other ladies from the club are trying to open a teen health clinic in the hospital. Like, with drop-in counseling; mental, physical, and sexual health support; and free birth control. It’s a really cool idea.
Apparently they thought up the plan after a doubles tennis match.
Cherrybridge needs something like that. My mother is trying to get 2SLGBTQI+ counseling added too. ”
I’m speechless. Really? I know that Mom had shifts in a similar clinic at the hospital back home. Because she was a teen mother, teen sexual health has always been important to her. Setting up something like that here is… actually very cool. I don’t understand why Mom didn’t tell me about it.
“Also your mom’s just… nice,” Sadie adds. “She’s easy to talk to. I loved it when she would come to our family dinners before the wedding. She’s, like, real. This family, this town needed someone like your mother in it. And most people see that. Don’t even worry about people like Stuart.”
Why is my mother like a completely different person with me?
“It’s easy for you to say Don’t worry about what others think, Sadie,” Liv says.
I understand Liv’s point perfectly. Sadie, with her blond hair, blue eyes, and LeClair last name is one of the most privileged kids in this town.
Sure, she’s queer, but considering how supportive her family is about that, her immense privilege shields her from most of the discrimination she would face.
She can ignore people like Stuart Chambers.
Liv, Noah, Mom, the other CROP kids, and I can’t.
“Do you think…,” I begin. I bite my lip, unsure how to phrase my question. “I mean, you two know the town way better than I do. Do people not accept my mother because she’s Brown, or because she’s not rich? Or both?”
Neither of them says anything for a while, but they both look like they’re thinking seriously about their answer.
“Both,” Sadie finally says, looking me in the eye.
“There was gossip when they started dating. People called her a gold digger. Meanwhile, all the unmarried women in the club were fighting each other for Jason’s attention, so doesn’t that make them gold diggers too?
And people said other stuff. Like, Women like her are always trying to snag a rich white man. ”
I blow out a long puff of air. Ugh. I really, really hate people right now. Mom’s probably had to deal with that crap a lot more than I have.
“Well, at least the LeClairs accepted her,” I say.
Sadie shakes her head. “Not always.” She sighs.
“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but after the first time Uncle Jason brought your mom to a family dinner at Grandma’s and Grandpa’s, they…
” She looks at Liv, like she isn’t sure she should say it in front of her girlfriend, either.
“They asked if Neelam was really the kind of woman he should settle down with. They talked about her being a single parent, and not from the same class as us. And Grandpa said it would be better for the family, for the LeClair name, if he was with a white woman.”
Liv’s back straightens and her eyes are wide with shock. “Holy crap, he didn’t say that, did he? I like your grandfather.”
I’ve only met Jason’s parents a few times, but they were always nice to me.
I never got the impression that they were racist. I think back to when Mom and Jason were dating.
She used to come here to Cherrybridge to see him all the time.
Did she know then that many people, including Jason’s own parents, didn’t approve of their relationship?
“I wonder if that’s why she’s trying so hard to be perfect,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Sadie asks.
“I mean, yeah, this clinic thing is supercool, but other than that, Mom’s turned into a perfect housewife.
She cooks dinner every night; she wears these perfect dresses to the club; she gets her hair done.
That didn’t use to be her. She used to be a scrubs-and-sweats kind of person.
She loved being independent. Maybe she wants to prove that she’s good enough for Jason. ”
“That a little heartbreaking,” Sadie says. “She should be herself.”
“What did Jason say after your grandparents said that racist crap to him?” Liv asks. “He’d better have stood up for her.”