"How's he doing?"
I spin around to find Sagan making his way over to us. He's acting so casual, like nothing even happened last night. Two can play at that game. "He looks a little better."
Sagan kneels down next to me and runs his hand across Wolfgang's stomach. "Yeah, he does seem a little better." He moves his hand to pet Wolfgang on the head and his fingers brush against mine. It sends chills up my arms and I'm so glad it's almost dark. The last thing I need him to see is that he still flusters me.
"Can he sleep in my room with me tonight?" Moby asks.
Sagan laughs. "I don't think your dad would like that very much."
"We don't have to tell him," Moby says.
His comment makes me laugh. My father is going to have his work cut out with this one.
The headlights from my father's car scroll across the property as he pulls into the driveway. "Pizza's here!" Moby yells. It's so rare that Victoria allows him to have pizza, he forgets all about Wolfgang and runs back into the house. I don't want to be left alone too long in the awkwardness between me and Sagan.
"I'm starving." I grab the empty pitcher and Sagan follows me toward the back door. As soon as my hand is on the handle of the screen door, Sagan grabs my other hand and tugs on it, not wanting me to go inside yet. I close my eyes momentarily and sigh. When I turn around, I'm a step higher than him, so we're eye to eye.
"Merit," he says quietly. "I'm sorry about last night. I was up all night thinking about it."
He sounds sincere. I open my mouth, but then I clamp it shut again because I lost his attention to the ring of his phone. He's digging in his pocket, stepping back down onto the grass, bringing his phone to his ear.
"Wow," I whisper. I shouldn't be shocked that I misread his apology as sincere. He couldn't even silence his phone long enough for me to respond?
I leave him to his urgent phone call and let the screen door slam shut behind me.
I walk into the kitchen just as my father and Victoria are walking through the front door with the pizza. "Moby, they didn't have gluten free," Victoria says. "You can have regular pizza tonight, but don't get used to it."
Moby's eyes light up and he climbs onto a bar stool and pulls a box toward him before Victoria even has a chance to set it on the counter.
"That's not how being gluten intolerant works," I say to Victoria. "You can either have it or you can't."
Luck covers my mouth with his hand. "Merit. Let the mother allow her child some gluten tonight."
I pull my head away from Luck's hand and mutter, "I'm just making a point."
Honor is next to me, pulling a stack of paper plates out of the cabinet when Sagan walks into the kitchen. "You need any help?" he asks her.
She shakes her head. "Nope."
That wasn't a friendly nope. I'm curious if she's mad at him, too. He scoots around her and grabs some cups. Moments later, we're all seated at the table, sans Utah.
Honestly, it's strange not having him here. I can't help but wonder where he is right now and where he spent the last two nights. Or how long my father is going to be mad at him before he allows him to come back here.
Honor is staring at the empty spot where Utah usually eats. "It wasn't enough that you kicked him out? You went and got rid of his chair, too?"
My father glances at the empty spot. "The chair broke," he says, failing to mention that he's the one who broke it when he smashed it against the wall.
The next few minutes are quiet. Even from Moby. I think he can sense that things have been a little off lately. I watch Victoria for a moment, wondering how she's still here, sitting at this table with my father two nights in a row, knowing what he's been doing behind her back.
"Did anyone take pizza down to your mother?" my father asks.
I shake my head. "I won't be doing that anymore. If she wants to eat, she can come up and make her own plate."
My father narrows his eyes at me, like the dinner table is no place for honesty.
"Why don't you take her some pizza, Dad?" Honor says with a hint of condescension in her voice. "I'm sure she'd love to see you."
And this is where Victoria draws the line, I guess. She doesn't even yell this time. She just drops her pizza on her plate and pushes back her chair. The screech it makes against the floor is deafening. No one says anything until her bedroom door slams shut.
"We almost made it to the end," Luck says, reaffirming the fact that we can't even make it through a single meal. That's when my father drops his pizza onto his plate with the same frustration Victoria did. He stands up and heads to his bedroom, but he hesitates and then comes back to the table and points at us. At Honor and me. He opens his mouth to lecture us, but nothing comes out. Just fumes of frustration. He shakes his head and follows after Victoria.
I look down at Moby to make sure he's okay, but he's working a slice of pepperoni into his mouth like nothing matters but pizza. He's got the right attitude if you ask me.
Luck is the first to break up the awkwardness. "You guys want to go swimming at the hotel tonight?"
We all answer simultaneously.
"No." --Me.
"No." --Honor.
"Yeah." --Sagan.
Sagan glances at Honor and she's glaring at him. "I mean . . . no?" he says, trying his best to get that frown off her face. I feel bad for him, even though I'm still angry at him. Is she mad because he's paid attention to me for the last two days? Does she have to be the center of everyone's attention?
"It's not a competition, Honor," I say. "He can be friends with more than one person."
She laughs and takes a drink of her soda. "Friends?" she says, placing the can back down on the table. "Is that what you call it?"
"Honor," Sagan says. "We talked about this."
They did?
Why? What did they talk about?
Honor shakes her head. "Just because you make out with her doesn't mean you know her like I do."
I can feel my anger smash against my chest with nowhere to go but out. I want to scream at her but I try to keep my composure in front of Moby.
"What's 'make out'?" Moby asks.
"Hey," Luck says, standing up. "Let's go to your room, Moby." Thankfully he grabs Moby's hand and pulls him out of the kitchen, but not before Moby grabs his plate and takes it with them.
Honor is still glaring at me from across the table.
"Where is all this hostility coming from?" I ask, frustrated. "I assumed you'd be a little more sympathetic."
"Oh, please," she says, scooting her chair back. She stands up. "If it was the truth you would have said something when it happened. Why would Utah do something like that to you and not to me?"
My jaw is tight and my teeth are grinding together as I hold back everything I want to say to her right now. "I can't believe you're taking Utah's side right now."
"You're calling him out when you admitted to the whole family that you tried to lose your virginity to our uncle?"
"Stop!" Sagan says, standing up. His chair falls back and crashes against the floor. "Both of you! Just stop it!"
Too late for mediation, Sagan.
I grab my glass of water and splash it in Honor's face. She gasps, wide-eyed and angry. Before I can escape, she's across the table with a handful of my hair in her fist. I scream and try to pry her hand loose, but it's useless. I grab her ponytail and yank it. Sagan's hands are around my waist and he's trying to pull me away, but I'm halfway across the table now and I refuse to let go until she does. Her other hand grips my T-shirt so I pull at the front of her shirt.
Several of the buttons pop off and Sagan is still trying to break us up when someone yells, "Hey!"
That sounds like Utah's voice, but I'm not really in a position to turn around and look. I don't have to, because Utah jumps on the table and tries to climb between us. He's prying Honor's hands off me and Sagan is trying to do the same to Honor. "Stop!" Utah yells.
We don't stop. I'm pretty sure a good chunk of Honor's ha
ir is now wrapped around my fingers, but I just grab hold of more.
"Cover her mouth!" Utah yells at Sagan. Utah says this just as he clamps his hand over my mouth and nose, smothering me. Sagan is behind Honor now, covering her mouth and nose with his hand.
What the hell are they doing? Trying to kill us?
I can't breathe!
Honor's eyes grow wide after several seconds and we're both trying to struggle out of their grips while still refusing to let go of each other.
I can't take it another second.
I can't breathe.
I release Honor's hair and grip Utah's hand that's covering my mouth. Honor does the same, pulling Sagan's hand away from her mouth. We're both gasping for breath when they release us.
"What the hell!?" Honor says, shoving Sagan. "Are you trying to kill me?"
Sagan looks at Utah and gives him a thumbs-up, then he puts his hands on his knees and bends over, catching his breath. "Quick thinking," Sagan says to Utah.
I fall into my chair again, trying to catch my own breath. I pull strands of Honor's hair from my fingers.
"What's going on?"
My father is back. He's standing next to the table, which is now a chaotic mess of pizza parts. Honor's shirt is ripped and both of us look a wild mess. But he isn't looking at any of that. He's addressing Utah, who is wiping pizza off his jeans.
"What are you doing here?" my father asks.
"I'm calling a family meeting," Utah says.
My father shakes his head. "Now's not a good time."
Utah laughs under his breath and says, "If you want me to wait for the perfect time to discuss kissing my little sister, we'll be waiting for an eternity. We're having a family meeting. Tonight." Utah walks past my father and heads toward his bedroom. He slams the door so hard, I jump in my seat.
My father grips the back of one of the chairs and shoves it at the table so hard, I jump again.
"Great," Honor mutters. She goes to her room and slams her door, too.
It's just me and Sagan now. He's standing on the other side of the table, staring at me. I think he's expecting me to cry or get angry or have some sort of normal reaction to everything that just happened. I scoot my chair toward the table and reach to the only box of pizza that isn't ruined. It's ham and pineapple. Figures.
"Next time Honor and I fight on the kitchen table, try to salvage a box of pepperoni, will ya?"
Sagan does that quiet laugh of his and shakes his head. He sits down across from me and pulls the box of ham and pineapple toward him. He pulls out a slice and takes a bite, then with a mouthful he says, "You're kind of a badass, Merit."
It makes me smile.
I don't want to be smiling at him, so I grab a slice of pizza and walk to my room with it, then close the door.
An hour later, Moby is asleep, I've washed the pizza off myself and almost everyone in the family is seated in the living room together for the first time in years. Utah is pacing the floor, waiting on my father to join us. I'm on the couch between Sagan and Luck. I mostly scoot toward Luck so that not too many parts of me are touching Sagan. Honor and Victoria have taken both the recliners.
When my father finally does walk into the room, he doesn't sit down. He leans against the wall near Jesus Christ and folds his arms over his chest.
Utah inhales a deep breath, like he's nervous.
He can't be as nervous as I am. I know I'm trying to play it cool, but my stomach has been in knots since he walked through the door an hour ago. I don't want to talk about this, and I especially don't want to talk about it in front of the entire family. I guess that's what happens when you lay everything out in the open with a letter, though.
Utah wrings his hands together and then shakes them out, still pacing the living room. Now that we're all here, he finally comes to a pause. Right in front of me.
I don't look up at him. I just want him to hurry up and say his lame apology so we can all move on and continue to pretend that it didn't happen.
"I feel like I owe everyone an explanation," he says. He begins pacing again, but I stare at my hands, clasped in front of me. I still have black nail polish on my thumb nails, left over from last month, so I pick at it.
"I was thirteen," he says. "Merit was twelve. And it's true . . . everything she said. But that's not who I am. I was a kid, and it was stupid, and I've regretted doing it since the moment it happened."
"Then why did you do it?" I snap. I'm shocked at the anger in my voice as I continue chipping away at the polish on my thumb.
"I was confused," he says. "My friends would come to school every day and talk about girls. We were all hitting puberty and our hormones were crazy, but I didn't care about the girls. All I could think about were the boys. I thought something was wrong with me."
He pauses in front of me again, and I know he's looking down at me, wanting me to make eye contact with him. I can't. He eventually begins pacing again.
"I thought maybe if I kissed a girl it would fix me. But I was a kid, and I didn't know the first thing about kissing or girls. All I knew was that there was one person I wanted to kiss, and according to society, I wasn't supposed to want to kiss Logan."
I finally lift my eyes to watch Utah speak for a moment. He isn't looking at me. He's still pacing.
"I had written Logan a letter that day, telling him I liked him. He showed everyone at his lunch table and then called me a queer when we were walking out of the cafeteria. I was so upset after that. I didn't want to be queer, I didn't want to like Logan. I just wanted to be what I thought was normal. So that night, I didn't even think about the consequences of what I was doing. I was desperate to fix myself, so I made Merit kiss me, hoping it would . . . I don't know. Cure me."
I squeeze my eyes shut. I don't want to hear anymore. I don't want to go back to that moment, and I don't want to hear his excuses.
"As soon as it happened, I knew I had done something terrible. She ran out of my bedroom, and I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I was disgusted with myself. Disgusted by what I did to Merit. And I've spent every day since then regretting it. Trying to make up for it."
I shake my head, trying to hold back my tears. "You're a liar," I say, finally looking up at him. "You haven't done a damn thing to make up for it! You never explained yourself and you've never once apologized to me!"
The tears have made an appearance, so I swipe at them angrily.
"Merit," Utah says.
I suck in air through my nose and then force it back out. It's an angry sound.
"Please look at me."
I fall back against the couch and look up at him. He actually looks remorseful, but he has had an entire day to practice this speech. He squeezes the back of his neck and then squats down in front of me so that we're at eye level. I fold my arms over my chest and hug myself.
"I am so sorry," he says. "Every day, every hour, every second since then I've regretted that moment. And I've never apologized because . . ." He looks down at the floor for a moment. When he lifts his eyes back to mine, there are tears in them. "I was hoping you forgot. Praying you forgot. If I had known how much it affected you I would have done everything I could to make up for it and I mean that, Merit. The fact that you remember and you've been angry at me all these years . . . I can't even tell you how much regret I have."
A tear slides down my chin and lands on my arm. I wipe it away with the sleeve of my shirt.
"Merit, please," he says, his voice desperate. "Please tell them I have never done anything even remotely inappropriate since that day." He looks over at Honor and stands up. "You, too, Honor. Tell them," he says, waving toward my father.
Honor nods and looks at my father. "He's telling the truth, Dad. He's never touched me."
My father looks at me and I nod, too, but I can't speak yet. Too many emotions are caught in my throat. But I can tell by the look on my father's face that he wants to make sure I'm okay with Utah moving back in.
Everyone is looking at me now, e
ven Utah.
I nod and manage to choke out a quiet "I believe him."
The room is quiet for a moment. Victoria eventually stands up. "Okay, then." She begins walking toward the kitchen, when she turns around and says, "I'd appreciate it if you all would clean up this damn mess you made."
Luck laughs under his breath. Utah faces me and mouths "Thank you."
I look away from him, because I don't want him to think I'm doing him any favors. I can't just let go of years of anger simply because he finally apologized.
"Meeting adjourned," my father says, clapping his hands together. "You heard your stepmother. Clean up your mess."
The meeting may be adjourned, but this is just one of many issues that needs addressing in this family.
We spend the next fifteen minutes cleaning the kitchen in silence. I don't think any of us really know what to say. It was a very sobering family meeting. The Vosses aren't used to so much honesty in one day.
"How did pizza sauce end up on the window?" Luck asks, wiping the glass with a wet rag. "Looks like I missed a good fight."
I close the dishwasher once it's loaded and hit the Start button. Honor washes her hands in the sink next to me. "I've got pizza sauce in my bra," she says. "I'm gonna go shower."
Utah walks to the pantry and grabs his box of letters. Pretty sure this will be the first time he's ever changed the marquee at night. He walks toward the door and pauses, then turns around and looks at me. "You want to help?"
My eyes dart around the room until I find Sagan. I don't know why I look to him for reassurance. I just honestly don't think I've been alone with Utah in several years and this all seems so strange. Sagan gives me a small nod, silently telling me I should go with Utah. It isn't lost on me that I just looked to Sagan for advice. I dry my hands on a towel and walk toward the front door.
When we're outside and the front door is closed, Utah smiles at me, but neither of us says anything. We just both walk in silence until we reach the marquee. He sets the box of letters down on the ground and starts removing the letters that are already on the marquee. I walk over to the marquee and start pulling down a few of the letters.
Without Merit Page 20
