by Jessica Kate
“It’s alright, Mom, you don’t have to worry, because . . .” Lili swept her gaze across the room, scanning for inspiration. As she pivoted, her forearm hit a cup on the edge of her desk and knocked it flying. It smashed against the leg of her bed.
“What was that?”
“I just broke a glass. Hold on.” She dropped to her hands and knees, scooping up the biggest pieces of the cup. She twisted for a shard that’d landed in the far corner.
Riiiiiiip.
Terrific. Who didn’t want a rip in the rear of their favorite jeans? She’d only finished a new screen-print design on them last week.
As she reached the end of her bed, she looked up and encountered a raspberry lollipop poking from her backpack. Nick.
Bingo.
“I, um, was saying you don’t have to worry about a tutor, because I’m getting a friend to tutor me. For free. We’re doing a swap, art for math.”
Well, maybe it wasn’t an official arrangement yet, but Nick had mentioned the possibility on the day they met. And they’d hung out over the last two weeks—him, her, and Grace. He should be happy to help.
“Are you sure, Lili? We could get a professional. Don’t let your father put you off—”
“Dad’s got nothing to do with it.”
“I’m just saying, he puts his worries onto you when it’s his responsibility—”
“Just drop it—yeouch!” A sliver of glass sliced Lili’s palm. She jerked to her feet and clenched her teeth as fire radiated from the base of her thumb. Drops of blood, round and red, fell from where she stood over her desk and landed on her sketch. She stared at the red spots on the page, with tiny splashes around them where the droplets splattered. Her stomach rolled.
“Mom, I’ve got it handled. Don’t stress. I’ve gotta go, okay?” She left her cell on her bed and stomped toward the kitchen, thumb throbbing with every step.
Why did Mom make everything difficult? One simple question about logarithms should not reignite the Great Tutor War. The ground around Mom and Dad was covered in land mines, and she could never tell when she was about to step on one.
The worst part was not being able to tell anybody. Sometimes her brain felt like a pressure cooker.
In the kitchen, Natalie sat at the counter, paperwork scattered before her. She and Uncle Jem had been brainstorming more ideas for her festival ever since he’d gotten home from work. Though Nat wasn’t looking at her papers right now. She was rolling her eyes in the direction of the living area.
Uncle Jem’s voice bellowed from somewhere in that direction. “. . . move my book?”
“I never touched your book,” she hollered back, then shot Lili a wink and pulled a novel from underneath a stack of papers. Three Bullets and a Broken Heart. “Did you know he reads sappy love stories?” Natalie whispered. “I read four chapters while Olly was asleep.”
Thumb about to fall off or not, Lili cracked half a smile. Though their first week had seemed a bit tense, Nat and Jem had gotten along pretty well this week. Nice to see some playful bickering instead of just . . . bickering.
Lili walked toward the bathroom as Jem padded out into the living room, still dressed in his work clothes. He narrowed his eyes at Nat, who took a sudden interest in her work.
He motioned Lili closer. “Just wait till I find her chocolate stash. It’ll be carrots for lunch tomorrow.”
Lili pointed to her thumb. “Do you have some tweezers?”
Jem’s face paled three shades. “What happened?” He dragged her into the bathroom and sat her on the edge of the tub while he dug through a drawer.
“I knocked a cup off my desk. I think there’s a little bit of glass in it.”
“Nat! Do we have bandages?”
There was a slight scramble, and Nat poked her head around the doorframe. Her eyebrows scrunched up. “I’ll deal with the blood. Just get me something to wrap this up with.”
“We’ve got antiseptic cream and some of those giant Band-Aids.” Jem disappeared and returned with the supplies.
Natalie confirmed there was no glass in the cut and unscrewed the jar of germ-slaying goop. The sharp smell pierced Lili’s nostrils.
“This is gonna sting.”
Jem offered Lili his hand, and Lili gripped it as Natalie slathered the stuff over her thumb.
Two minutes later, her hand was wrapped up and the mess cleared away. Natalie returned to her work as Jem put away the supplies and whistled. “Ouch.”
“Yeah,” Lili said. Almost as painful as five minutes of conversation with her mother. “While I have your sympathy, can I ask a favor? I want to have a friend over. We’re studying together.”
“Sure. When?”
“I’ll have to call him to find out.”
“Him?” Jem dropped to the edge of the bathtub, next to Lili. “What’s his name? Social security number? Hottie rating? Do I need my shotgun?”
Her cheeks heated.
“Did someone say hottie rating?” Nat’s voice floated from the kitchen.
“Ignore her. Of course you can ‘study.’” Jem made quote marks in the air with his fingers and winked. “But it happens at the kitchen table or the living room. No closed doors.”
“It’s not like that. He’s just a friend.”
“Sure he is.” Jem squeezed her shoulder and stood. “Just let me know when he’s coming over.”
“Thanks, Uncle Jem.” Lili shot from the bathroom.
She had a text message to send.
* * *
Lili perched on the edge of her bed and eyed her cell phone.
What if Nick was busy? What if he didn’t want to tutor her? What would she tell Mom?
Just get it over and done with.
She typed out the most eloquent message she could think of. What’s up?
Her phone rang. She grinned. Nick liked to rant about how “kids these days” never spoke on the phone anymore, only texted. Looked like he practiced what he preached. She hit the Answer button. “Hey.”
“What’s happening?” The background noise on the call sounded like he was in a store.
She flopped back on her mountain of pillows. “I just ripped my favorite jeans.”
“An epic day, then.”
Her smile grew. “Something like that.” She cocked her head. “What’s with all the noise? Where are you?”
“Uh . . . I’d rather not say.” Laughter hid behind his words.
She propped herself up on one elbow. “Are you in the bathroom?”
“Worse.”
“My day has stunk. I think that means you have to tell me.”
“Promise not to laugh.”
“Yeah, yeah, promise.”
“I’m in the ladies’ underwear section of Target.”
A giggle escaped Lili’s lips before she covered with a coughing fit. “Are you perving on the mannequins?”
“I’m, um . . .” His voice dropped in volume. “I’m grabbing stuff for my mom. She’s on a bit of a downer and doesn’t feel like shopping, but I do the laundry and she— Well, she needs some clothes.”
“Oh.” Nick had told her about his mother and her struggle with bipolar disorder. “Want some help?”
“You’d be my knight in shining armor.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Lili disconnected the call, and a second later her phone beeped. A message from Dad. She hadn’t seen him in the two weeks since she’d moved to Jem’s—her decision, not his.
She tapped her screen and brought up the message. After a long freeze-out, she’d invited him to share a triple-fudge coconut waffle with her tonight. Maybe she could talk to him about how she was feeling, blow off some steam. Apart from Dad, she didn’t have many options. Grace would have been the natural choice, even long distance, but she was a blabbermouth who still had a lot of Charlottesville connections. And if this got out, Lili could kiss any chance of a family reunion goodbye.
Dad’s sumo suit picture flashed up on the screen, followed by the te
xt.
Sorry, hon, I’m on my way to meet with Stephen and his caseworker. Rain check?
A fuse lit in the back of her skull. He was still involved with Stephen Kent? Her thumbs flew across the screen.
Is Miss Kent with you?
No reply.
She jumped from her bed. She had to talk to someone.
* * *
Lili picked at her chipped nail polish—a different shade of purple on each finger—as she sat in her uncle’s passenger seat on the way to Target. Her phone, plagued with battery problems, burned in her pocket. Just like the secret on the tip of her tongue.
She stole a look at Jem from the corner of her eye. He tapped the steering wheel like a bongo drum, humming along to the tune on the radio. He’d been in the same good mood since Natalie had been coming around.
Lili hadn’t been sure of Natalie at first. She had enough adults bossing her around without adding Jem’s old girlfriend to the list. But then Natalie offered to teach her to sew, even though Lili knew Nat didn’t enjoy the craft. Lili already had an art project planned around a 1940s dress pattern she’d found.
Mom could sew but never found the time to share her skill.
Lili brushed purple flecks from the cute red skirt she’d donned and attacked the next nail.
Natalie was cut from different cloth than most adults. So was Uncle Jem. Could she tell them her family’s secret?
“Hey, Jem, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure thing, sweet cheeks.”
“If I told you I got a tattoo, what would you say?” Maybe if Jem could be trusted with a little secret like that, he could deal with this too.
He overshot the corner. She grabbed the door and the car’s tires squealed as he corrected.
“You mother is going to murder me.”
“I didn’t say that I actually did it. But what would you do if I had? Would you be cool?”
Jem pulled a hand down his cheeks. “Just tell me it’s not of that Bieber guy. I could face your dad as long as it’s a tattoo of someone respectable. Like Justin Timberlake.”
“NSYNC is over, man. Let it go.”
Jem glanced at her. “Seriously, is there something you want to tell me?”
“No tattoos here. I had to watch Grace get her flu shot last month. I woke up on the floor to the sight of the male nurse’s man boobs in my face. It was just a random question.” Lili forced a light tone to her voice, but her hopes sagged lower than Mr. Munroe’s man bosom. If Jem would tell her parents about something like a tattoo, she couldn’t trust him with her situation. He’d feel obliged to tell, and Mom would find out about Miss Kent in a bad way. What if this was the thing that totally broke her parents apart?
They rolled into the parking lot, and she checked her phone. Message from Nick.
Mom Shopping List Item #17: personal hygiene products. This. Is. The. End.
She snorted, and texted back. Where are you?
Her phone beeped. Absolute rock bottom.
The car came to a stop and she cracked open her door, thumb still texting a reply.
Jem placed a hand on her forearm. “Two hours, okay? Call me if you want to come back earlier. I’ll be here faster than you can say My-Uncle-Is-A-Secret-Ninja-So-Don’t-Touch-His-Niece.”
“That actually takes a long time to say.”
“Not for ninjas.”
Lili rolled her eyes and got out of the car. “‘Bye, Uncle Jem.”
“Love you too.” He made kissy faces and drove away.
Her throat tightened. Everything in her wanted to chase that car down and blurt the whole story to her uncle. But no. He’d blab. She had to give her parents every chance she could.
A beep sounded from her back pocket, and she checked her messages again.
You’ll find me in the tools section. I’m soaking up some manliness.
She smiled. Nick. She’d only known him for two weeks, but he was the only friend she could trust with her burden.
The only drawback: Miss Kent was his aunt.
Lili shoved the thought to the bottom of her pocket, along with her phone. That didn’t matter. She had to tell someone, or she would explode.
14
Something didn’t look right.
Jem, back from dropping Lili off, closed his apartment door behind him and surveyed his home.
Natalie and her outdated laptop at the counter. That part looked very right, though he didn’t fool himself into thinking she was here for his company but rather his free Wi-Fi.
But the rest of the apartment—even with his new couch and dining table—looked too . . . bare? Impersonal?
He couldn’t ask his father to dinner here until this got fixed. Dad always said he wasn’t responsible enough. This needed to look like the home of a responsible father who was capable of caring for his son.
If only he knew where to start.
“Nat?”
She didn’t respond, just stayed hunched over her screen, blue light reflecting off her face.
He flicked the button on the internet modem. After a few seconds her head popped up, reading glasses in place. A new addition since they’d been together. Black frames, very “sexy librarian.”
Not that he’d express that thought aloud.
Now they rested over a puckered brow. “What’s with the Wi-Fi?”
He lifted the modem and pretended to reset it while actually turning it back on. “That should fix it. While I’ve got your attention . . .”
Her gaze, already back down at her screen, dragged up with apparent reluctance.
“I need your opinion.” Something she usually had no problem giving. Hopefully she’d take the bait.
“On what?”
He smothered a smile. Same old Nat. “I want to try and have Dad over, give him and Oliver a proper introduction. But, well . . .” He indicated the drying rack by the sink, which held two baby bowls and three adult-sized plates. “That’s pretty much the extent of my dishes. The whole place needs a spruce-up.”
She got a glint in her eye.
“On a budget.”
She leaned back on her mismatched stool and twirled a pen between her fingers. “Thrift store. If you buy all their blue-and-white plates, it doesn’t matter that they don’t match. They look good anyway.”
He pulled his notebook from his back pocket and scribbled down the note. “And the rest of the house?”
She surveyed the living area. “It’s missing photos.”
He palmed his forehead. Of course. “I can do that.”
“Get some frames, but do an album too. John’s missed the first nine months of Olly’s life. Let him catch up.”
Jem’s pen paused on the notepad. Would Dad want to know anything about those first months of parenthood in Chicago? Or would any mention of his life BC—Before Charlottesville—only serve as an unwelcome reminder?
“The first one of Olly smiling on camera.” Natalie’s soft voice broke through his reverie. “He’ll want to see that one.” He’d showed it to her the other day.
Jem straightened and stuffed his notebook back in his pocket. “Thanks.”
“Maybe cushions and a throw rug wouldn’t kill you either.”
He rolled his eyes. She loved to decorate almost as much as she loved throwing a good party. He’d seen web pages on her laptop one morning as they worked on her festival proposal. Crocodile Dundee costumes. For her dad’s birthday. He sure hoped he was in her good graces by then, because that’d be an event worth seeing.
He checked the time on his phone. Dangerously close to Olly’s dinnertime. The predinner hour tended to be Olly’s fussiest. Best to save the shopping for tomorrow. But he could sort through the photos now. He pulled up the app on his phone and leaned against the counter as he marked some for printing.
Natalie looked askance at him. “You’re doing this for your dad? You really think that’ll make the King of Criticism admit you did something right?”
A good point. His thumbs stopped swiping
across the screen.
The phone rang in his hand. His editor. What did he want on a Friday evening?
“Samson?”
“Jeremy. Your page-three article that ran today.” No smile in his boss’s voice.
Jem’s hand went to the back of his neck as a chill spread through him. He’d been stoked to see that his report on a major drug arrest made the lead on page three and even had a teaser on the front. But now . . . “Yes?”
“I just had your father on the phone for twenty minutes. He was . . . most displeased. You mixed up the surnames of the accused and the arresting officer.”
His nerves stood on end as a flush swept through him. Jem covered his eyes with his hand. No, no, no, no, no. How could that have happened? “I am so sorry. I’ll come in and load a correction on the website.”
“Done already. But not a good start, Walters.” Click.
Jem lowered the phone.
Natalie, oblivious, closed her laptop with one hand and rummaged around her handbag with the other. “I’ll finish prepping this presentation for the board at home, anyway. I have to help my friend Mindy with some bridal shower details.” The last part came out as a mumble.
Jem gave a halfhearted wave as she slipped past him to the door, his mind still spinning. How could he have made such a stupid mistake? Dad would never let him forget this.
He slumped down on the stool Natalie had vacated, his photo app still open on his phone. Olly’s gummy smile grinned up at him. What was the point of this? He and Dad hadn’t seen eye to eye since Mom went into labor with Jem partway through Dad’s awards banquet back when he was a sergeant.
A gurgle in the corner caught his attention. Olly, playing with a set of oversized plastic keys.
The baby seemed to notice Jem’s gaze on him, because he crawled in Jem’s direction. “Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da.”
He’d caught Nat yesterday trying to teach him to say, “Nat-Nat-Nat-Nat.” Unsuccessfully.
He reached down and pulled his son up into his arms. “Hey, there, bud.” The baby grabbed Jem’s nose and squealed. Jem leaned his forehead against Olly’s. He couldn’t imagine not being a part of Oliver’s life when he grew up. And his son deserved to have at least one grandparent. Chloe’s absence from their lives meant her parents were out, and Mom was already gone.
