60. Claire
sixty
The girlsand I are having a sleepover—something I’ve never done before. After I aired out everything—everything, save for Nathan’s family history—we decided that one girls’ night was simply not enough.
While Sam, Aaron, and Mason are playing two men and a baby tonight with Hope, Juliet, Lucy, Penelope, and I are currently in our pajamas, perusing the aisles of Stop Shop.
“Do you think four ice cream options are too many?” I ask. We already have two in our cart, but I have two more in my hands.
“Absolutely not. You are popping your ‘eating your feelings’ cherry and you deserve the full experience.”
Penelope plucks the two cartons from my hands and deposits them into the buggy.
“I’m going to run back and grab popcorn. Especially if I’ll be retelling that story about how Boss-Daddy went all Alpha on Joe Petersen for you. You’re gonna need your sustenance for how hot and bothered you’re going to be, girlfriend.”
I groan and shoot her a pair of evil eyes as she skips merrily away.
I’m not sure if I should be thrilled by the prospect of this night or not. While I’m super excited for my first sleepover, I’m less excited that we’re going to sit and cry about Nathan.
I don’t want to cry about Nathan. Haven’t I done that enough?
I’ve cried for the loss of him, and also for the lies his heart has been telling him. But he made it very clear when I awoke to his side of the bed empty.
If I wanted you gone, you’d know.
And isn’t that the ugly truth?
Beneath it all, I’m angry. Angry at him for making the choice for me, just like my parents did. Angry at him for cutting off the beautiful world we were on the verge of creating.
Angry at him for refusing to see his worth.
Angry at him for not allowing me to love him back together.
It’s that anger that has fueled me into not contacting him—well, that, and Penelope’s insistence that he deserves the silent treatment for a little while.
They say he’s been more of a tight ass around work, and while I’ve apologized that he’s taking it out on them, I’m almost glad that he’s suffering.
Almost.
It’s all so confusing. Love. I want him to wallow, but I also want to be the one who helps him pick up the pieces and reassemble them.
Right now though, I want to eat my weight in ice cream and watch romcoms with my friends—and okay, maybe I want to hear about how Nathan defended me in front of the entire staff to that slimeball Joe Petersen—while they do each other’s nails.
I won’t let them touch mine. I’m still too raw for that. And besides, I figure if I hold on to Nathan’s last manicure until the last of the polish picks off, I should be over him by then, right?
Right?
It’s this that makes the tears come this time. They’ve waned in the last few days, but as I glance down at my nails and realize how little paint I have left, I’m about to break down in the middle of the frozen food section.
As if on cue, my phone rings.
Mom?
She hasn’t talked to me since Christmas. Zoey has kept me updated about missing school lunches and missed appointments, but otherwise, Mom hasn’t tried to contact me either. I let it go to voicemail, but she calls again. When I don’t answer on the third ring, a text comes through, and my heart stops.
Mom
Zoey is missing. Is she with you?
I abandon the cart in the middle of the aisle, call Penelope and tell her I’m leaving, and head straight to the parking lot, keys already in hand.
My sister doesn’t pick up any of the three times I call her, and as I’m about to call a fourth time, I get a text.
Nathan
Zoey is at my house. It seems like she has run away without notifying your parents. She is safe. Would you like me to bring her to you?
In the front seat of my car, I take the deepest breath, in and out, before facing all of my darkest fears at once.
I didn’t think I’d be back here so soon. Knowing that Zoey is inside safe and sound is the only thing rooting me to the front porch without actually knocking. But suddenly, it opens.
Nathan looks ragged. Worse, somehow, than when I’d held him on the couch while he sliced a knife through his own heart and gutted it between us. My heart controls my hand as it moves to reach for his face. My brain yanks it back, because she is still pissed.
He swallows, his big eyes blinking beneath his glasses as he gives me a once over, like it’s been years since he’s seen me, and not weeks.
“Zoey’s phone died, so it’s sitting in the kitchen on the charger. She is in the living room playing chess.”
I nod, only stepping past him when he has given me enough space so that our bodies don’t have to touch.
I rest my shoes in the spot beside his, the same spot I’ve used for the past several months. I hate how my heart rebels, how it sings joyful melodies as if we’re finally back where we belong. Instead, I head right for my sister. I wrap her into a soul crushing hug, holding her tightly to me before I ream into her.
“You scared the shit out of us,” I say to the top of her head.
“Language, Claire. Can you let go? I was just about to hand him his ass and you threw off my groove.”
Slowly, I release my sister. She’s wearing a scowl at the fact that I interrupted her chess game, but also? There’s a deep-seated anger there, one I’m certain caused her to flee from my parents’ house. I sigh, run my hand along her springy brown curls, and kiss her forehead.
“I’ll go call Mom and let her know you’re safe.”
At the mention of our mother, that hurt and anger laces over her gaze.
I take the call in the kitchen, and as I’m on my way back, Nathan intercepts me.
Holding my blue mug.
Steaming with the tea that always calms me down.
I don’t hesitate to take it, and my brain scolds me heavily.
“She said she had a fight with your mom, went for a bike ride, and ended up close by. She thought you would be here to talk. She assumed we were together.”
An angry bark of a laugh escapes. “So did I.”
I sip my tea, push past him, and take a seat next to my sister. Nathan slips into the study, giving us privacy.
“What happened?” I ask, twirling one of her curls around my finger.
“Mom. That’s what.”
She scoffs, and I let the curl spring off my finger before smoothing it back into place. I tilt my head, encouraging her to continue.
“I told her I don’t want to play cello anymore, and she flipped out. Said I’m ‘too talented to waste it.’ News flash, Linda, I’m talented at everything. I have an eidetic memory. Doesn’t mean I want to use it all the time.”
My heart balloons inside my chest.
I let her continue to vent, about the argument she had with our mother, and the feelings she’s kept repressed. Zoey goes on and on for a solid amount of time, and I don’t interrupt until she says, “I just wish she’d listen to the words I’m saying instead of searching for the ones she wants to hear.”
I hug my little sister. Hold her so tight, she’s bound to push me away. When she relaxes into me, when she kind of hugs me back, I break.
I think of myself at her age, already parenting two younger siblings. I think of the choices I didn’t get to have, the control our mother took from us. She has the power to break that cycle, the opportunity to speak up for herself. If I couldn’t, Zoey sure can.
When I pull away, that anger in her eyes has been replaced by desperation. She truly doesn’t know what to do.
“Oh, sweet Zo,” I say, running my hand down her head. “Do you want me to talk to her?”
She huffs, putting her mask back on.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs and crosses her arms. “Ideally, I’d like to stick up for myself, but I still need you in my corner. It hasn’t been the same since you left, Claire. I don’t have my sister there to talk to.”
I breathe in and breathe out. Guilt slowly seeps in, but not as heavily as it once did. Talking through Nathan’s issues gave me a new insight to my own. I shouldn’t feel guilty for living my life. But, I can still have a relationship with my siblings.
“Let’s fix that, okay? Can we pick a day of the week that works for me to come pick you up? We’ll have sister dates.”
Her smile ticks up, and she nods. “I’d like that.” Zoey pauses, her lips pursing, then says, “Is Harding still in the doghouse?”
I tense, feeling color rise to my cheeks.
“What do you mean?”
Her eyes narrow, one twitching. “I’m not stupid, Claire. You didn’t need to stop by his place to pick up a book that one time. You two were totally making out before we went to the library. He looked like absolute garbage when I showed up an hour ago.”
Her arms cross as I pray that a hole will open in the middle of Nathan’s living room and swallow me.
“I… No. To answer your question, we are not on good terms right now.”
“Okay, well, whatever he did, he looks pretty sorry about it. He’s been peeking in here this whole time watching you. It’s only kind of creepy.”
Sure enough, when I turn to glance over my shoulder, Nathan is standing in the doorway to the hall where the study is, his face red after being sold out. I look back at Zoey, smirking.
“That’s what you get for playing that trick move on my rook, Harding.”
Nathan swallows, nods curtly, and says, “Duly noted, Benson.”
“C’mon, meddler. Let’s get you home before Mom calls out an APB.”
Zoey stands, and I guide her to the door. While she’s lacing up her shoes, I meet Nathan in the middle. I cross my arms on the defensive, but also for protection.
“Thank you for texting me. And for keeping her safe.”
“You’re welcome.” He nods. Swallows. His lips part, and I pray that Zoey is ready to go, because I don’t know if my heart can take him trying to sweet talk me back into his arms. “For what it’s worth, what your sister assumed is true. I am deeply sorry for making the decision to end things between us for you. And when you’re ready to talk to me again, I’d love the chance to make it right.”
My heart stutters, then does its best job to jump through my ribcage. My brain is still leery. I sigh.
“We’ll see.”
It’s all I can give him.
He nods, tucking his hands into his pockets as I slide my shoes back on.
I allow myself to imagine, for just one moment, that he did it to stop himself from reaching out to me.