Chapter Twenty-Nine Lucy
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lucy
I kick my shoes off as soon as I’m through my front door.
On the wall ahead of me hangs a gold-edged mirror my mom bought me when I moved into this apartment.
I’ve never liked it. It’s old fashioned and not in that cool vintage-y way.
Less “granny chic” and more “Granny, no thank you.” My mom even chose where to put it.
She said it was always good to have a mirror near the front door so you could check your appearance before you left or before you opened the door.
But I hate it, and I’m reminded that I hate it every time I come back to my apartment.
It’s still there, every day, despite me hating it, even though Mom hasn’t visited since she came when I moved in three years ago.
I sling my bag on the floor and reach for the mirror.
It unhooks easily, and I lift it off the wall.
I stand back to look at the blank space where it just was.
It looks a little bare, but maybe I could find a picture to go there instead.
I set the mirror back onto the hook and pour myself a glass of water.
I’m running up against the deadline to apply to sit for the LSAT if I want to do it before applications close for law school in September.
I’m also sitting on an email from Sharon, asking whether I’m interested in her putting me forward for one of the in-house scholarships that will be launched this year.
It’s an unwritten rule in our law firm that partner emails never have to wait more than an hour—and then only if you’re in a meeting or on a call on something else.
Sharon’s email has been in my inbox since ten fifteen this morning, and I still haven’t responded.
If I want a law school scholarship, I have to answer her before I go to bed tonight, or I can forget about it.
I take a sip of water. I thought the journey home from the office would clear my head and let me think, help me come to a decision, but it didn’t. Neither does the water. Neither does being at home.
I take my laptop and go to my couch. If I tell her I want to be considered, that doesn’t mean I’ve automatically got the scholarship, does it? I might not get accepted into law school. I might not even get a good enough score on the LSAT.
The LSAT study book Hunter and I bought, what seems like months ago now, is sitting on the coffee table. I set my laptop to one side and grab the book, flipping through the pages like they might have the answer to Sharon’s email in there somewhere.
I’ve mentally tried out some of the questions. I haven’t committed anything to paper. I haven’t even allocated time in my schedule to study. Although I have more time on my hands now that Katherine and Ed are on their honeymoon and Hunter has taken a step back.
A step back from me.
From us.
From life.
Maybe he has the right idea. I certainly have more time on my hands since I haven’t taken my lunch breaks this week and I’ve spent every night at home.
The hours I’ve gained back in my schedule could be totally devoted to the LSAT.
It’s what Hunter would do, isn’t it? No doubt he’s still in the office at this very moment.
Worrying. Stressing. Taking the weight of the world on his shoulders.
I can’t blame him. Given what happened with his dad, it’s totally understandable why he wouldn’t want another business he’s in charge of to fail.
He doesn’t seem to realize that when he took over his father’s company, it had already failed.
From what I can gather, Hunter was an innocent bystander in that scenario.
Nothing he could have done would have protected him from the fallout.
He’s still sheltering from the fallout. Even now. Braced. Ready. Waiting for it to happen again. It’s all he’s got room for. My heart aches because I’m not with him, but also because I know he’s in pain and can’t see a way out.
I toss the LSAT book to the side and pull my laptop back onto my lap. I reread Sharon’s email for the tenth time. What am I going to say?
Are you sure you haven’t mixed me up with someone else?
My mother thinks I’m not capable of dressing myself, let alone going to law school. How can you be so sure I am?
Sure, I’ll put my name down for a scholarship, but don’t worry, you’ll never have to pay up because I’ll never get in.
My phone buzzes, and I hurry to grab my cell from my purse, which I left in the hallway.
It’s pictures on the group chat with Ed, Katherine, Hunter, and me. Katherine in a red bikini, holding up a shell. Katherine and Ed holding up cocktails. Ed with a snorkel and mask on. They look like they’re having the time of their lives. It’s nice they want to share it with us.
Hunter and I haven’t officially split because we weren’t officially together.
I haven’t mentioned anything to Katherine because I don’t want anything to interrupt her having a great time on her honeymoon.
And maybe part of me is hoping the conversation I had with Hunter will be forgotten now that he’s had a chance to process what Ed was saying.
Ed loves working with Hunter and doesn’t want to step back in any meaningful sense.
He just doesn’t want to work all the time.
Then again, he doesn’t have the history Hunter does.
As I’m swiping through the photographs, a video call from Katherine comes through.
“Belize looks horrifying,” I say dramatically as Katherine comes onto the screen. She’s in the hotel room and Ed is behind her.
“It’s awful. I miss you. I wish you were here.”
“It’s our honeymoon,” Ed mumbles behind her. “You’re not supposed to miss your sister on your honeymoon.”
I laugh. “Are you telling me you don’t miss me, Ed?”
He turns to face the screen and steps closer. “Of course I don’t! Belize is awesome and it feels so good to not be wedding planning or worried about . . . anything.”
My heart lifts in my chest at seeing them both so happy.
“Have you seen much of Hunter since the wedding?” Katherine asks, her eyes brimming with hope and excitement. I’m so lucky to have Katherine. She’s genuinely excited when I’m happy. The feeling is entirely mutual.
The question triggers a low, sonorous pain inside me. “Not really,” I say, honestly. “He’s really busy. And . . . worried about stuff.”
Ed shuffles Katherine so he’s now sitting where she was and she’s on his lap. “He’s really stressed?” he asks.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“I remember telling him we need to hire more people so we can enjoy our lives,” he says. “It didn’t go down well.”
I sigh. There’s nothing I can say to make this better. I understand why Hunter has taken it so badly. I wish I could make him see that Ed’s trying to help them both. He’s not about to betray Hunter. I know it. All Hunter can see is history repeating itself.
“Can you reassure him I’m not trying to tank our business?” Ed says. “We’ve both worked too hard for us to let that happen.”
“I don’t think he’s in the headspace to hear it, Ed.” Nothing hopeful has room to grow in him.
“Has it made things tense between the two of you?” Katherine asks.
“A little,” I say. “But I’ve been busy at work too. I have to get back to the partner on whether I want to be considered for a firm scholarship to law school.”
“What?” Katherine asks.
I wince inwardly as I’ve realized I’ve used my outside voice for my inside thoughts.
“Didn’t I tell you that one of the partners offered to mentor me? She mentioned that I should consider going to law school in the evenings.” I try to sound casual, but I’m terrible at faking anything.
Katherine’s brow is furrowed, and she gets closer to the camera like she’s trying to read some small text. “No!” Katherine says. “You didn’t tell me that. When did this happen?”
“I don’t know. Before the wedding sometime. It was all a blur.”
“So what did she say? Do you want to go to law school?”
Now the cat’s out of the bag, I may as well come clean.
“She thinks I have a lot of potential and that I should apply. But then again, I’m a good paralegal.
Do I really want to work for years and not even know if I’m going to become a lawyer?
I might be bad at it, or I might not graduate at all.
It’s such a time commitment, not to mention all that money. I might waste it all, and—”
“This partner approached you, though, Lucy. She thinks you can do it.”
“Right, but it’s for this new program they’ve started, about encouraging women in the firm to fulfill their potential. They probably have some quota to meet or something.”
“It’s incredible that they’ve approached you about this. Why didn’t you tell me before? I’m so excited for you!”
“I just wanted you to focus on the wedding. And I’m not even sure that I’m going to go ahead with it.”
“I’m really sorry, Lucy,” Katherine says. “I’ve been so caught up with wedding planning. You’re going to do it, though. Aren’t you? I always thought it was a shame you didn’t go to law school.”
“You did?” I ask.
“Yeah. Why didn’t you end up going?”
“It was too expensive. Too much of a risk. It’s a lot to take on if you crash out halfway through.”
“I don’t think it’s a risk. Not for you, anyway. You’ve always done anything you’ve set your mind to. You’re the most determined person I know.”
Ed nods in agreement, and I can’t help but smile. Sometimes I doubt Katherine’s reassurances that what Mom is saying about me isn’t true. I don’t know why. She’s entirely consistent in the way she sees me.
“But it’s crazy, right? I can’t actually do it.”
“Why is it crazy?” Katherine asks.
“Law school? For me? Mom would say—”