Chapter 8 Vance #3
“Not great,” I admitted, stepping back to let them in.
Mia clutched a package wrapped in lavender paper with a white ribbon. “We brought her something. I picked it out.” She gave me a one-armed hug, and “Hi.”
“Hi back.” I held her tight for just a moment.
Lila set the takeout bags on the counter. “We picked up Thai food. I figured something easy. Nothing too overwhelming.”
Her phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen, her expression tightening.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Just another vendor issue with the renovation. That’s the third one this week.” She put her phone away with a frustrated sigh. “First the wrong cabinet hardware showed up, then paint samples that were never ordered, now the tile supplier says someone cancelled the zellige order.”
“Who cancelled it?”
“They said someone from production called. I think it was Kenzie. Even though I don’t know why she’s trying to ruin her own show.” She shook her head. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Right now, Margot’s more important.”
I filed that information away. Something felt off about all these “mistakes,” but Lila was right. Margot came first.
I lowered my voice. “I can’t get her to come out of the bedroom. She’s been in there since we got here.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Mia, maybe you can coax her out?”
“Totally.” Mia looked uncertain for a second. “Should I knock? Introduce myself?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I said. “I don’t know if she’ll even respond.”
Mia walked over to the door and knocked lightly. “Hey, Margot, you in there? I’m Mia. A friend of Vance’s. Of your dad’s. My mom and I brought food and we have a present for you.”
“Why?” Margot asked, clearly close to the door.
Mia rested her forehead against the door. “Oh, why? Um … because we really like your dad. And we’re excited to meet you.”
“How old are you?” Margot asked, still behind the closed door.
“I’m fourteen,” Mia said.
Silence.
Mia glanced at her mom, then tried again. “I’m going to start high school in a few weeks. I’m kind of scared. Are you scared to start a new school too?”
A second or two and then, “It doesn’t matter. I won’t be there long.”
We all exchanged glances. Mia returned to her mission. “We brought a present for you. I picked it out. And Thai food. Are you hungry?”
The door opened a crack. Margot peered out, her eyes red-rimmed but dry. She’d changed into pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt with the San Francisco professional football logo on the front. She looked at Mia first, then peered behind her where Lila hovered near me.
“Hey, Margot.” Mia smiled wide. “You’re super pretty.”
“So are you,” Margot mumbled.
“I love your sweatshirt,” Mia said. “Are you a football fan?”
Margot glanced down at the front of her sweatshirt as if she didn’t remember what was on it, stepping a little closer to Mia. “I don’t know. Are you?”
“Not really. I’m not into sports. I prefer musicals.”
“I like Wicked.”
“Right? Isn’t it genius?” Mia asked. “I have no talent for music but my best friend, Grace, is practically like a professional actress. She gets the leads in all the plays.”
Margot stepped closer still, now completely out of the doorway. “I saw the movie Wicked. With my grandmother. But then she died.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s awful.” Before any of us knew what was happening, Mia knelt slightly to hug Margot. To my shock, Margot hugged her back, wrapping her arms around Mia’s waist as if she were a life preserver.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Margot let go of Mia and stepped closer to me, peering at Lila.
“This is Lila,” I said. “Mia’s mom.”
Lila smiled warmly. “Hi, Margot. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Hi,” Margot said quietly. “Are you his girlfriend?” She gestured toward me.
Lila looked up at me, a question in her eyes. I nodded briefly, wanting to give her permission to call our relationship whatever she wanted.
“Yes, I’m his girlfriend,” Lila said.
Margot didn’t say anything further, but her eyes dimmed. It wasn’t much of a stretch to imagine the number of revolving men in her mother’s life.
Mia grabbed the package from the table, presenting it to Margot. “This is for you.”
Margot stared at it like she wasn’t sure what to do.
“You can open it now or later, whatever you want,” Mia added quickly. “I just thought—well, your dad said you like art, and I love art too, so I picked something out for you.”
Margot took the package carefully, like it might break. “Thank you.”
“Why don’t we all sit down to eat?” Lila suggested. “The food’s getting cold. Margot, you can open your present at the table.”
We settled around the small table—me at one end, Lila at the other, Mia and Margot across from each other. Margot held the wrapped package close to her chest.
“Go ahead and open it,” Mia said. “I can’t wait to see what you think.”
Margot carefully untied the ribbon, peeling back the paper with precise movements. Inside was a wooden box with a hinged lid. She opened it, her eyes widening slightly.
It was a complete watercolor set. Professional grade, from what I could tell. Tubes of paint in every color imaginable. Three different sizes of brushes. A small palette. And underneath, a thick spiral-bound watercolor pad.
“Mom helped me pick it out,” Mia said. “She’s an interior designer so she knows a lot about art and colors and stuff. I figured you probably already have supplies, but these are supposed to be really good.”
Margot traced one of the paint tubes with her finger. “These are … nice.”
“Do you like them?” Mia asked anxiously. “Because we can take it back and get something else.”
“I like them.” Margot looked up, meeting Mia’s gaze. “Thank you. I’ve never had art supplies this nice before. My mom doesn’t like the mess.”
“Well, now you do.” Mia beamed. “Maybe sometime we could paint together? I mostly do pencil and charcoal, but I’ve always wanted to try watercolor. We have a terrace. That’s where I draw sometimes. We wouldn’t have to worry about paint spilling because we could just wash it off.”
“Okay,” Margot said softly.
“Awesome.” Mia settled back in her chair. “So, do you like Thai food? Mom got pad thai and spring rolls and some curry stuff. We weren’t sure what you liked.”
“I don’t know,” Margot admitted. “I’ve never had it.”
“Never?” Mia’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I hope you like it as much as I do. We told them no spice, just in case you didn’t like spicy food.”
“Do you like spicy food?” Margot asked Mia.
“A little spice but not so much that I can’t taste the rest of the food,” Mia said.
Lila started serving food, putting small portions on Margot’s plate. “Just try a little bit of everything. If you don’t like something, that’s okay.”
Margot picked up her fork tentatively, taking a small bite of pad thai. She chewed slowly. “It’s good.”
“Right?” Mia said. “It’s my favorite. Well, tied with pizza. And tacos. I adore food.”
Despite herself, Margot’s lips twitched. Almost a smile.
Mia caught it and grinned. “So, what grade are you going into? Fourth?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool. That was a good year for me. Mrs. Patterson’s class is the best, if you get her. She lets you do art projects for extra credit. Are you worried? About school?” Mia took a bite of her spring roll.
Margot shrugged. “Not really. I’ve been to a lot of different schools.”
“Oh, wow, that sounds hard,” Mia said.
“No one notices me, so it’s fine,” Margot said.
“I totally get that. Grace and Annie get a lot of attention from like everyone but no one even remembers I’m around. Which is fine with me. I’d rather lay low, you know?”
“Yeah. For sure.” Margot took another bite of her noodles.
“I can show you around town if you want. Introduce you to people. My friends are really nice. Especially Annie and Grace. We have bonfires on the beach—and you could come sometime, if you want?”
“Okay.”
“And I can take you shopping for school clothes too,” Mia continued.
“I know all the good stores. I’m like a genius at picking out clothes for other people.
I think I might want to be a fashion designer.
And anyway, it’s way more fun to shop with someone your age than with parents. No offense,” she added, glancing at me.
“None taken,” I said, grateful for Mia’s easy chatter.
“Do you take dance?” Mia asked. “I saw on Instagram—sorry, I know that’s creepy, but I looked up your mom and saw the pictures.”
Margot’s expression shuttered slightly. “Yeah. I took ballet.”
“There’s a great studio here. Grace and Motion. Grace’s mom runs it. Gillian. She’s amazing. We could check it out if you want. See if you like it.”
“Maybe.”
“No pressure,” Lila said gently. “But I think you’d enjoy it.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes. I watched Margot push food around her plate, occasionally taking small bites. She kept glancing at the watercolor set like she couldn’t quite believe it was real.
“Can I ask you something?” Mia asked Margot.
Margot looked up, wary. “Okay.”
“Are you mad? Like, at your mom? For sending you here?”
“Mia,” Lila said quietly.
“What? It’s a legit question.” Mia turned back to Margot. “Because if you are, that’s totally normal. When my dad left us for his new family, I was so mad I could’ve exploded. I’m still mad sometimes.”
Margot stared at her. “Your dad left?”
“Yeah. Cheated on my mom with this awful woman. Now they have three kids together and I barely ever see him.” Mia shrugged, trying to look casual, but I could see the hurt underneath.
“It sucks. But we’re okay. Mom and me. We have each other and our friends.
It’s actually pretty great most of the time. ”
“I’m not mad at my mom,” Margot said quietly. “She deserves to be happy. With Derek. They’re getting married, which is a dream come true for her. I caused a lot of fights.”
She said it as if she’d rehearsed it a thousand times. Which made my chest ache. Nicole had coached her. Made her believe she was the problem.
“Well, even if you’re not mad, you’re allowed to be sad,” Mia said. “That’s what my therapist says. You can feel however you feel.”
“You have a therapist?” Margot asked.
“Yeah. Dr. Chen. She’s cool. Helps me figure stuff out.” Mia took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Mom says everyone should have a therapist. Everyone needs a safe place to talk about their feelings.”
Margot looked down at her plate. “Do I need a therapist?”
“Like Mia said, I think therapy’s good for everyone,” Lila said carefully. “But only if you want to try it. No one’s going to force you.”
“Oh,” Margot said.
We finished eating, the conversation flowing more easily now.
Mia did most of the talking, telling stories about Willet Cove, about her friends, about the beach and the tide pools and the best place to get ice cream.
Margot listened, occasionally responding with a word or two, but mostly just taking it all in.
When we finished, Lila started clearing plates. “Margot, would you like to help me with dishes? Just you and me?” Lila asked.
Margot glanced at me, uncertain.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll help Mia pack up the leftovers.”
Margot followed Lila to the sink. I watched them from the corner of my eye while Mia and I put food into containers.
“I think that went okay,” Mia whispered. “Right?”
“Because of you. Thank you. For being so good with her.” My voice broke. I squeezed the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger, willing myself not to cry. “You’re killing me, kid.”
“Is that a good thing?” Mia asked, concern in her eyes.
“I’m just amazed by you, that’s all.” This time I choked up. “I’m sorry. This is so hard. Without you here, I don’t know what I would have done.”
Mia stared at me for a moment, her eyes glistening. “Thanks for saying that.”
“He’s a fool, you know. Your dad. Missing out on one of the greatest humans in the world.”
“Vance, you’re going to make me ugly cry.” Mia swiped at a tear that had started down her cheek before hugging me.
I felt a little like Margot must have, hugging her back like a lifeline. “Thanks for being you.” I kissed the top of her head.
“Margot’s just scared and doesn’t trust people, which is not a surprise, you know. I get it. I’d be scared too.” She paused. “But I think she’s going to be okay. Eventually.”
“I hope so.”
“You’re one of the world’s best humans too,” Mia said. “Don’t let anyone tell you different.”
“Thanks, kid.”