Twenty
Valerie often wished she was a better person. That she was kinder and more accepting of those around her. That she had the stick-to-it-iveness her mother so admired in Erica. That she could say what she meant, instead of glossing over her hurt feelings and getting progressively more resentful.
She glanced over at Nico, who was frowning slightly at the road ahead.
He was acting the same as normal, and why shouldn’t he?
They’d had a disagreement about Penny, and Valerie’s perception of her role.
She’d corrected him and told him she wasn’t upset.
He’d acknowledged her correction. It was done and there was nothing more to say.
Except she had been upset when she told him she wasn’t, and she was upset now.
It was a beautiful day for a road trip, with frothy clouds and light traffic, but instead of appreciating any of this, Valerie stewed.
The kilometers passed and the trees gave way to fields, then trees again and the occasional gas station or hidden driveway.
She stewed some more. Of course she knew she wasn’t a Badgerton.
What was he trying to get at? Was he hoping to make her feel bad? Why did he say that?
“I have a mother,” she said abruptly.
Nico jerked in his seat at the sudden declaration. “I know you do.”
“I don’t need Penny as a mom,” she said. “I don’t know why you said that.”
“I knew you were mad,” he said, looking away from the road. “Why did you say you weren’t?”
“That’s not the point. Why did you say that about Penny?”
“It’s a bit of the point. You told me things were fine and I trusted you that they were.”
“We have plenty of time to fight about that next, but I want to focus on why you said what you did.”
Nico blew his breath out slow and steady, but not as if he was frustrated. It was more like he was trying to figure out what to say. “Penny can be charming when she wants,” he said finally. “I’ve known her for years, but I don’t trust her and neither should you.”
“What makes you think I trust her?”
“When you were talking about her, it seemed like a close relationship was something you wanted.”
Valerie’s throat closed up, thinking how nice it would be to have someone care about her the way Penny did Brayden, and about the small bit of her, deep inside, that had been attracted to this scheme because of the chance to be an important part of a family, however briefly. “I don’t.”
They drove in silence for a bit longer. “Why did you say it was okay when it wasn’t?” Nico said.
She was too tired to give anything but the truth. “Because it was easier.”
“To lie?”
“It’s not worth the fight, so it’s better to move on.”
Nico looked like she’d told him she believed in a flat earth. “What?”
“What do you mean, what?”
“This isn’t what I expected from you. I thought you’d want to talk about feelings and get to the real core of the disagreement.”
“I do, if it’ll make a difference.” She stared out the window. More trees passed by, matching the cadence of her pounding heart. It was so much simpler to pretend things were fine.
“Valerie, if I ask if you’re okay, I have to believe it when you say yes, and that it’s not only to make me feel better.”
How did this get turned on her when they were supposed to be talking about Nico’s shortcomings? “You’ll get mad at me.”
“I might but so what?”
“So what?” She stared at him. “You think it’s fun to have to navigate another person’s emotions for them?
To deal with the sulking and the pissiness because I said no or the truth about how I felt and it made them feel bad, even if they were the one in the wrong?
Especially if they were the one in the wrong? ”
“I know it’s not,” he said. “I get it.”
“How? You go through life saying what you think and expecting no one will get mad because you’re being honest. Like a robot.”
The moment she said it, she knew she had messed up in a massive and possibly unforgivable way because she could almost see Nico shut down.
“I’m sorry.” She always was the first to apologize, no matter whose fault it was, although this was clearly hers.
Too bad a sorry didn’t magically erase what happened.
She was about to make some beeping noises, to try to crack the deep and heavy silence, but luckily her frontal lobe kicked in.
There was something about that phrase that had done enough damage.
There it was. As usual, Valerie screwing up because she was trying to avoid confrontation, like dealing with Alexis at Ad Astra.
She clenched her hands, furious with herself, and wondered how to fix this.
Her impulse was to pretend the fight hadn’t happened and to do whatever she could to keep the relationship smooth and limping along, the same way she kept trying with her mom, and Alexis, and everyone, because some relationship was better than none.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“No?”
“I can tell that word has meaning for you,” she said carefully. “I wasn’t thinking when I said it. It was rude. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
He gave her a cold look. “It’s okay for you to say it’s fine, but not me?”
She nearly stamped the floor in guilty frustration. “It’s not good for either of us,” she said. “You’re right. We should talk about what bothers us.”
“I understand you think that.”
She glared at him. “That’s passive-aggressive.”
“It’s a statement of fact.”
He said nothing more as they passed a fry truck.
Nor did he speak as they stopped for gas.
At first Valerie thought he was giving her the silent treatment, like Jake did, and felt a small smug satisfaction that he was proving her point.
It wasn’t until they’d driven through more trees, by a blue lake lined with boats, and past a roadside vegetable stall, that she realized something much worse: He wasn’t staying quiet to punish her.
He was quiet because he had nothing to say to her.
What should she do? Opening her mouth seemed like the worst possible option so she didn’t.
Then, finally, Nico started talking and she slumped with relief. “My sisters call us robots,” he said. “My father and me.”
He’d alluded to problems with his family. Was this it? “They do?” she asked carefully.
“They’re loud, Stefanie in particular. Everything is a big deal. Everything is the end of the world, or the best thing ever.”
Valerie tried not to shrink down, recognizing herself in this.
“Stefanie hates it when I don’t react the same way,” he continued, fingers tapping on the wheel. “She always tries to get a rise out of me.”
“Is that why you don’t talk to her?”
“I find it’s easier not to.”
“Do you miss her?” she asked.
“Sometimes. Stefanie used to make me cookies. She hated nuts but she put them in because I liked them. She wasn’t bad all the time.”
“I’m sorry I said that,” she said. “I didn’t know how mean it was.”
“I know.” He glanced over. “I don’t want to talk about it, though.”
“Are you angry with me?” she asked, unable to help herself.
“Not with you, but you brought up some stuff I don’t want to deal with.”
Valerie was a firm believer in the talk-it-out school of conflict resolution.
She herself liked talking about her feelings although she usually didn’t, since getting into her problems was often boring or uncomfortable for others to deal with.
Then she reconsidered. She also believed that everyone was different, which made for an interesting gap—how could something be good for everyone if people had different needs?
Nico was an internal guy. It made sense for him to work through things for himself first, without having to talk it out.
“Okay,” she said.
“What do you mean okay?”
“You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. That’s fine.”
“Not according to my mother and sisters.”
“Well, I’m not them, but I’ll be here if you want to talk eventually.”
Nico nodded. “Do you want to talk about your mom and Penny?”
“No,” she said. He was wrong about her feelings about the Badgertons, obviously, but there was no point dredging it up when it looked like they were about to get along again.
That was enough for now. They began to make conversation, carefully offering neutral comments about the drive and whether they should stop at a hand-drawn sign that said “$5 jam in shed” before deciding it was a trap.
Valerie did her best to act cheerful, but she hated this cautious polite distance that lasted through lunch at a burger truck and a quick walk to see an unimpressive waterfall.
It was her own fault, though, so she couldn’t complain.
“Goderich,” said Nico as they drove in.
“‘The prettiest town in Canada,’” she read off the sign as they passed. “According to who, I wonder?”
“Queen Elizabeth II,” said Nico. “Although she never set foot here.”
Yesterday, this would have been something they could laugh about, but Nico spoke in the dispassionate tone of a tour guide.
They passed through an unusual octagon-shaped downtown to a neighborhood of manicured lawns and white picket fences that could have been taken from a painting.
Valerie opened her mouth and shut it. Nico wouldn’t care about her musings about how perfect this town was.
She was getting nervous, and not only about how she’d ruined the effortlessness she’d had with Nico.
In a few minutes they might have the answer to the mystery of Roger’s life. They might be face-to-face with Yvette.
Once that happened, her time with Roger would be done, and her fake-daughter services terminated.
No more Mariposas. No more Badgertons, except explaining how she’d lied to them.
No more pretty designer clothes. After her initial excitement had passed, she’d known she couldn’t take them home.
A gift under false pretenses was no gift, and it would be wrong for her to keep them.
No more Nico? Although he didn’t seem like he’d care now. Valerie felt like crying. God, she was such a mess.