Chapter 26
The distance between Luke and me has already begun, because on Monday afternoon he sends an apologetic text saying he’s juggling
a million things, and he’s not going to have as much time this week as he thought. Apparently, one of the other actors dropped
out, and they’ve been scrambling to cast a replacement before the shoot starts.
LUKE:
But listen, this weekend, can you hold Friday and Saturday for me? I know we didn’t include weekend days as part of the agreement
but since I can’t meet much this week I’d love to get those days back
Unfortunately I have to go back to LA for a day or two on Sunday afternoon otherwise I’d ask for that too
We really are at the whims of his schedule.
He’s the busy one, I get that, but there’s a power imbalance because of it.
Is it pathetic that I’m willing to just say yes, sure, whatever you need?
Maybe. But I’m also not about to say no, given my staggering fee, just because of my pride.
I’ve missed him. These are the last few days I have with him.
So I let those other feelings go as best I can.
ME:
Let me check with management
A few seconds later, I text, Management says a weekend hold is permissible
LUKE:
Haha, thank u to the powers that be
After school, I spend a few hours over at the Millers’ watching Carson and Ellie so Natalie and Bill can go out for dinner.
At their front door, I’m greeted by Natalie, along with the puppy from the Pawlooza event, who is barking like mad and charging
over to greet me.
“Butterfly Sparkle!” I say, bending down to give him pets.
“We compromised on Riley Butterfly Sparkle,” Natalie says. “Riley for short.”
“He’s so cute. But also . . . I’m sorry?” I say as I stand up, not sure what the attitude in the house is toward the new puppy.
Natalie laughs. “Don’t be. You only sped up the inevitable.”
The girls are in love. Most of the time I’m there, they stay cuddled up with him on the couch, and he’s so happy with the attention that he’s basically ascending to dog nirvana.
When I get home, Mom is waiting for me in the kitchen.
“Hi, Gus!” she says. “How was your day?”
I drop my bag on the floor, next to the kitchen island. Thisbe aggressively sniffs me, like she can smell the new puppy. “It
was okay.”
“Have you eaten dinner?”
“Yeah. I had pizza at the Millers’ with the girls.”
“What about dessert?” Some of the pumpkin cookies she made yesterday are sitting out invitingly on a plate. She pulls it toward
her and beckons for me to sit on the stool next to her.
I sit down and take a cookie, side-eyeing her. “Are you about to tell me why you’ve been acting so weird?”
“I haven’t been acting weird,” she says weirdly.
I raise my eyebrows and take a bite of the cookie.
“Okay, fine,” she admits. “I guess . . . I wanted to wait to talk to you and Nicky about it together, but he’s been cagey
about when he can come home, so . . . I thought I’d start with you first.”
She’s making me nervous. I put the cookie down. “You aren’t sick, are you?”
“No! Nothing like that,” Mom says. “This weekend, Todd asked me to marry him.”
“Seriously?” I get out. “Did you say yes?”
“I told him I had to talk to you and Nicky first.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“I know he’s not perfect,” she says, before I even have a chance to respond. “But he’s good. Solid. And you could go to school
in New York,” she adds. “He’s adamant that he wants to help pay for it. Especially if we get married.”
“That shouldn’t be the reason you marry him.”
“It isn’t,” she says. “Todd is good to me. And . . . it’s been hard. Since the divorce. I’ve been . . . this is embarrassing
to admit to your kid, but before I met Todd, I was lonely.” Mom takes my hand. “But I want to know what you think. I know
sometimes you hold back with me. I need to know how you actually feel about this, since this affects your life, too.”
I don’t think loneliness is a good enough reason for her to get married to a guy like Todd, but what do I know? I’m only eighteen.
Maybe loneliness is a fine reason to get married. A normal reason. But if it is, the world is a lot more depressing than I
thought it was.
And what if I told her that I don’t like Todd, that I don’t want them to get married, and she breaks up with him and she’s alone forever after that?
“If you’re happy, I’m happy,” I tell her.
“Claire—”
“I mean it!”
She presses her lips together, as if that isn’t the answer she was looking for.