41. Gigi
CHAPTER 41
Gigi
As I get ready for Luke’s graduation ceremony, curling my hair into loose waves, I see Luke frowning from the corner of my eye. He’s giving his phone the death glare, slanted eyebrows and all.
“What’s up?” I ask.
Luke ignores me. His thumb keeps on scrolling through whatever it is he has on his screen. My stomach churns, imagining the worst possible case scenario. The two of us always win when it comes to bad luck. Ding. Ding. Ding. Congratulations, Gigi and Luke, more shitty news coming your way!
I take a deep inhale and then exhale, making an effort to remember what Dr. Lindon told me during our most recent session.
“And what is it that you’re thinking about right now, Giuliana?”
“That I’m going to go nowhere in my life. Luke is the brainiac. He got a scholarship for his bachelor’s degree and if he wanted to, he could’ve gotten one for a master’s program, too, I bet. He filled out his summer vacations with internships during his freshman and sophomore year. And once he found out I was pregnant, he got two jobs! One as a bartender because the tips are great, and the other one doing admin work and low-level TA stuff. His CV is full of things he can use for his career. And me? I know I make a big deal out of missing school, but the truth is, I was barely scraping by as it was. My grades were so-so and the only job I got was as a waitress. Nobody will want to hire me. Not with my grades and not with two kids.”
Dr. Lindon nods. “Do you sometimes feel jealous of Luke’s accomplishments?”
Biting my lip, I answer him honestly. “Sometimes. Look, I know I shouldn’t be and I know that they’re not true. I can always change my own life, put in more effort, and all that jazz.” I wave my hand in the air before leaning back on the chair. “And he finally got a job offer that he’s going to accept yesterday. He has to commute an hour there and back, but it’s at a company he likes and he’s going to be doing something that he’s interested in. I bet that’s because he’s so smart. I’m proud of him and how smart he is. But when I’m in a dark place, sometimes I can’t stop my mind. It starts whispering bad things to me.”
“When you have negative intrusive thoughts, remember that everyone gets them. They’re normal, but they’re also often irrational and unrealistic. Allow them to happen, but don’t dwell on them too long. Anchor yourself in the fact that they are just that, negative intrusive thoughts, and then move forward with your day. Acknowledge them, but don’t let them overpower you.”
“Luke, are you good?” I ask again.
When he gives me another round of radio silence, I walk toward him and stand up on my tiptoes so that I can see what’s stealing all of his attention.
“Holy shit.” I can’t help myself. Luke alternates between opening Facebook, Instagram, Reddit, TikTok, every single fucking social media platform that he has on his phone. Even Marble Crest’s website where you can leave comments for the mayor. Everywhere is popping, and the name Michael Palmer stands in the middle of it all.
Gunzzblazing605: I saw him with that girl last year! I knew it was Pastor Palmer. Everyone thought I was insane. Well, would you look at that, suckers.
Yolandapetersen: That’s so gross. Eww.
Rubyred: I can’t believe my mom thinks this guy is the shit. She listens to his every word.
Userxyzandabc: Isn’t this the guy whose son hung himself?
“Someone posted a spill-the-tea video and it went viral.” Luke finally breaks his silence, using air quotes and rolling his eyes. “Apparently Uncle Mike fucked some student from Ravensfield a while back. She got pregnant and he paid her to abort the baby. Well, she ended up becoming an influencer.”
“Holy shit.” My eyes grow wide at his words. “Do you think that’s why Andrew spotted your uncle’s car that night in front of the theology department?” I ask, suddenly remembering what Andrew said in his goodbye message to his dad.
“I don’t know what’s fucking up or down anymore,” Luke huffs, angrily shoving his phone in his pocket.
“The good news is this will probably help our case with Becca.” I try to look on the bright side. “There is no way your aunt will stay with him after this. A divorced manwhore masquerading as a pastor taking care of a minor? I doubt the church will still even have him. They’ll probably make him quit.”
Luke looks at me, nodding. “I’ll call the lawyer and tell him.”
“No, no.” My fingers grab his wrist so that he doesn’t pull out his phone. “This is your graduation day, Luke. We’re leaving soon. I want you to enjoy today. You can call him on Monday.”
“But I?—”
“Luke, it’s Friday, and it’s four thirty in the afternoon. He’s probably going to clock out soon.”
If those TV shows about lawyers are in any way accurate, the guy is probably still in his office about to bank on overtime, but I don’t say that to Luke. It’s his big day. I want him to stop worrying about other people for once and celebrate himself. Whether Luke gives him the update today or on Monday, it doesn’t really matter. I have a feeling his uncle will still be viral by then. There might even be more material they can pick out as proof of his indecent behavior.
“Alright,” Luke says. I feel the word on the crown of my head as he kisses it, snaking his arm around my shoulders before letting me go. “Now go do the rest of your hair. I’ll change Gwen and Ethan’s diapers and get them ready in the car seats.”
Becca stands next to me, proud and tall as we clap for Luke together. The man himself is grinning from ear to ear. He gives me a little wink before walking down the stage. The politician who gave the commencement speech said today was the fruit of eight semesters worth of labor, but I know better. This was years in the making for Luke.
He fought for this degree. For his place at the university. For his grades. For his scholarship. When nobody thought he could do it. When people looked down on him. When nobody believed in him, Lucas Palmer believed in himself.
The graduating class disperses once the ceremony is over, black gowns in a sea of hugs and kisses and happy tears. We’re no different.
“I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of you,” I chant as I hug Luke.
Our eyes are both wet, and we both smile before Becca attacks him by jumping on his back.
“Becca, you’re eleven!” Luke yells with no bite. “My back is too weak for this.”
“You need practice, old man,” she chuckles. “Ethan and Gwen are really chunky.”
As if on cue, Mom comes into view with the twins in the stroller. The usher almost didn’t let us push the giant monstrosity inside the hall, but when I explained that these two were the babies of someone who was a part of the graduating party, the guy gave me a nod and let us through, as long as we promised to sit at the end of the row.
Mom hugs Luke and whispers something in his ear that I can’t make out. He laughs when she makes a cross symbol on his forehead with her thumb.
The moment she walks away, Dad steps in, his girlfriend Michelle right next to him, and they both shake Luke’s hand. Dad gives him a slight grip on the shoulder and I’m a ball of nervous energy, dying to hear what he’s about to say to Luke, praying that it’s not something threatening or condescending, but the sound of Gwen crying pierces my ears.
“I’ll go check what she needs,” I announce to everyone before walking outside the hall with Gwen and the stroller.
After sniffing her diaper and smelling something horrible, I finally figure out what she wants. “Give me a sec, cutie,” I coo. “Let’s go to the bathroom and I’ll change you, alright?”
I’m making funny faces when I hear a slide of the lock from one of the bathroom stalls. Autumn freezes when she sees me, says nothing, and heads directly for the sink.
“Congratulations, Autumn.”
There is no point in dragging out our longstanding bitterness against each other. It’s all in the past, anyway. It feels like a lifetime ago, and after today, I probably won’t see her ever again.
“Thanks.” She eyes both me and Gwen warily as she dries off her hands, watching us like we’re some forest creature in the wild. “Is this one of your babies?”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “This is Gwen. Want to hold her?”
“No, thank you.” Autumn is quick to answer and even quicker to grimace. “I’m not good with kids. I don’t want to have them until I’m like in my mid-thirties or something.”
“They’re not that bad.”
“They’re cute, true. But they torture you and ruin your body. My sister just had a kid and her boobs are all saggy now.”
The smile on my face falls off and Autumn must have seen it because she immediately comes toward us and says, “God, I didn’t mean it like that, Gigi. I swear I wasn’t being bitchy to you.” I believe her, because the expression on her face can only be described as full-on panic mode.
“It’s fine,” I assure her. “No offense taken.”
Is it still called negative intrusive thoughts when someone else says it? No. No, it’s not. It’s called the truth.