by Jessica Kate
“You can take your apology and shove it blank blank blank blank blank. That blank is lying to you.” She folded her arms. “And I don’t want anything to do with anyone who has anything to do with her.” Tears pressed against her lids. She wiped her cold nose against Gru’s scarf. Hopefully everyone would think it was just rain.
Nick stayed silent for a minute, eyes fixed on the road. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he eventually said, eyes blinking at a rapid pace.
They pulled up outside Jem’s apartment and Natalie and her mom exited the car.
Nick touched Lili’s forearm as she reached for the door handle. “If this is it, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She pulled her arm away and kept her focus on her lap. “You didn’t.”
A pause. “That’s a relief, then. And I wanted to thank you. Your art tutoring really helped improve my grade. I have a college scholarship interview in two weeks. It’s a new thing Wildfire’s doing.”
“Yay for you.” Her tone said the opposite. She got out of the car. “Goodbye, Nick.”
She slammed the door shut and walked into Jem’s building without looking back.
34
Jem gritted his teeth and focused on super-gluing the cracked television remote back together and not his father’s mouth shut.
Dad, seated at the kitchen with Olly in his high chair, alternated between playing “high-speed police chase” with Olly’s car toys and criticizing every element of Jem’s parenting.
“He keeps grabbing for my phone, Jem. Do you let him play with yours? Experts say children under two shouldn’t have any screen time.”
Jem tuned him out and squeezed glue onto the remote, trying not to drip it on the couch. He probably should have laid down a newspaper or something to do this.
Last Saturday night seemed to have been a turning point for Dad, who appeared both embarrassed at the state they’d found him in and quietly appreciative of the forgiveness Jem offered.
“Quietly” because he never actually said so. But he had come around to visit Olly a couple times this week, so Jem read between the lines.
But that didn’t mean he’d had a brain transplant. He still seemed convinced that Jem couldn’t parent without his sage advice. And with him around now more than ever, that meant more “advice” than any human should have to bear.
“Shouldn’t he be saying more than ‘da-da’ by now?”
Jem squeezed the tube too hard. A big dollop of super glue landed on the couch.
He needed to get out of the house.
He checked his watch. When were Natalie and Lili getting home from that school skit? He’d been so excited about taking off his time-in-lieu and spending time with Nat that he’d forgotten she had her own job to do. Plus, he’d wanted a chance to talk to her. It was only week one of their relationship 2.0, and it already seemed something was bothering her. Was it him? Work stress? Worry over her father’s cancer?
If only he could get away from Dad for five minutes to find out.
A key scraped in the front door. Jem bolted up. If that was Nat, then item number one on the agenda was dragging her into the hallway for a kiss and then a complaining session about his dad.
But Lili entered, stripping off the remains of some kind of costume.
Jem placed the remote and the glue on the table, careful not to spill any more. “Hey, Lil. How was your day?”
She stomped into her room and slammed the door without a response.
Dad looked at him with raised eyebrows. You going to stand for that?
Jem held back a groan. Parenting his own baby was hard enough. Adding his brother’s teenager to the mix pushed the intensity to eleven.
Natalie came through the door—and she was blue. Literally.
Jem stopped. “What’s going on?”
“I think she and Nick are fighting.”
That’d been question number two on his list, but he nodded like that’s what he’d meant.
Natalie rubbed her neck, smearing the blue. “My car’s not working. Again. Can you come take a look?” Her voice was strained. That stupid car. It caused her far more trouble than it was worth.
But she’d just given him an out. He looked at Dad. “Would it be okay if you watched the kids for an hour?” He’d given Dad the rundown on Olly’s diabetes earlier this week, and as a cop Dad knew his way around first aid pretty well.
Dad harrumphed. “I suppose. It’ll give me a chance to look around this apartment for signs of mice. There’s something about the smell in here . . .” He sniffed the air.
Jem clenched his teeth. It was like Dad didn’t even think he tried. Like he didn’t wake at three in the morning and worry about whether to pick Olly up straight away when he cried or to let the baby know he wasn’t at his beck and call. Should he have tried harder to feed him a variety of vegetables during that month that Olly wanted nothing but his bottle, rice pudding, and applesauce? Should he not let him play with his phone when they were in public and the choices were (1) give him the phone or (2) let him scream the house down?
Whatever. Jem grabbed his keys and followed Natalie out the door. One hour, child-free, to spend with his girlfriend and find out if he was a part of the problem or solution regarding whatever bothered her.
And an hour to forget his failings as a parent.
* * *
Natalie focused her nervous energy into jiggling her leg as the wind did its best to blow them off the road en route to her stranded car.
After a trial period, the Wildfire board had green-lighted Kimberly’s youth drop-in center idea. Were she a more unselfish person, she’d feel happy for her colleague and the kids who’d benefit. But the approval was one more indicator of what the board’s decision in one month’s time would be.
She rubbed a hand over her face, fingers running over the uneven texture of an impending breakout. Great. Stress-induced pimples. Just what every girl still wanted to be dealing with at twenty-six.
Jem placed a hand on her knee, stopping the jiggles. “Nat. I just said your name three times. What’s up?” He laced his fingers with hers, but it did nothing to take the edge off the tension coiled through her.
What was up? Only a lack of a college degree, the world’s most boring résumé, and a father’s legacy going down the drain. She fiddled with the wet hem of her costume and told him about Wildfire’s decision.
“Why is this internship so important?”
“What?” She snatched her hand back. How could he even ask that? Did he know her at all?
With a glance at her reaction, Jem shrugged. “I mean, I know it’s a great opportunity. But why does it have to be this one in particular? Why youth ministry? You’re fighting so hard for this career and, well, sometimes I wonder if you really enjoy it.”
She stared at him. Didn’t enjoy it? She loved it. Couldn’t he tell?
Her phone rang. She narrowed her eyes at Jem. “Saved by the bell.”
Jem pulled over by her Bug and grabbed her keys from where they sat in the cupholder.
Natalie stayed in the car and pressed the phone to her ear. “Hey, Dad. Sorry I’m late.” She’d meant to spend an hour with him this afternoon, as he was often too tired in the evenings.
His voice crackled over the storm interference. “That’s okay, bubs. You’ve gotta hustle for this job. You’re so close!”
She winced. “Actually, it’s not the job. My car broke down.”
“I’ll come help.”
She tried not to laugh. He could barely get out of bed, and he wanted to come help fix her car. Dads.
“It’s okay. Jem’s here. He’s looking at it now.”
“Make sure Jem doesn’t mix up the jumper lead cables.”
She smiled. It wasn’t a battery problem, but okay. If only she could tape these conversations, full of Dad-ish concern and love. She treasured each one. While she still could. “Okay.”
“And tell Sam that I live-streamed his talk at that school down in So
uth Carolina. You guys are doing fantastic work. I’m so proud of you.”
Her eyes slid shut as hot emotion rushed into them. “Thanks.” She croaked out the word. Dad was the only person more excited about this internship than she was.
She was so close. And it was about to slip through her fingers.
They said their goodbyes, and after a moment to collect herself, she stepped out into the rain and joined Jem where he stood, staring at the engine of her car.
“Any luck?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the rain.
“King Tut has more life in him than this car does.” Lightning lit the sky as he lowered the hood. “I think it’s time to call it quits, babe.”
Thunder crashed around them. “No!” The word came out too harsh. She bit her lip. She had to hold it together. But everything was spiraling out of control.
He raised a quizzical brow. “I’m talking about the car.”
She crossed her arms. “But you mean it about the job too, right? I can’t believe you’d even suggest it.”
His brow creased. He ran a hand through his wet hair, spiking it up. “You hate public speaking. You’ve said it yourself.”
“I do it anyway.”
The exasperation in his tone increased. “I can still see it’s torture every time. I’m just not sure why it has to be this job if things aren’t working out. You could do party planning. Event management. There’s options.”
He just didn’t get it. And without living her life for the past seven years, he probably never would.
Natalie pointed her finger at him. “You went to college for four years and walked straight into your dream career. I vacuumed floors at UVA and answered phones for a store that rented out plants. This is my chance at something meaningful.”
His expression softened. “Your dad’s work is not the greatest thing about him, Nat. And it’s not your responsibility to be him.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “You think I don’t know that? This is what I want. I’d have thought you would’ve supported me.”
Jem’s expression darkened. “I didn’t know that asking the question meant not supporting you.”
She refocused on the car. “I’m going to have to call a tow truck. Let’s go.” When he turned away, she swiped at her eyes, though by this point any tears were indistinguishable from the rain.
Dad’s devotion to ministry wasn’t the greatest thing about him. But it was the trait people remembered. The trait they said she shared with him.
And soon it would be all she had left.
Tense silence reigned in the car on the sodden ride home. Jem beat her upstairs to the door and opened it.
He sucked in a breath. “What happened?” The words were directed inside the apartment.
She hustled up the last few steps and slid past where he stood in the doorway, into the apartment.
John bounced a crying Olly, his expression thunderous. “You left that super-glue tube on the table. He can stand and reach things now, Jem. He got ahold of the tube and he’s glued his eye shut.”
Natalie clapped a hand over her mouth and peered at Olly’s face. Yep, his closed left eye had a translucent layer of glue on it.
John held up a sodden washcloth. “Apparently warm soapy water can remove it. But the kid’s lost half his eyelashes and has screamed blue murder the entire time. I hope you’re usually more careful than this.”
Jem palmed his forehead and muttered so low she barely caught the words. “Why do I even try?”
35
Lili was cornered.
She stood on the front steps of school on Friday afternoon and gaped at her father, standing two steps away on the sidewalk. What was he doing here? Around them, students streamed past on their way to buses and cars. He’d picked his ambush location well. She couldn’t exactly shout at him here.
“Hi, Lili.” Dad’s smile had “fake” written all over it.
Lili folded her arms against her black tunic and leveled a glare. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to give you a lift home.” His tone was lighter than whipped meringue.
She clenched her jaw and glanced around. If only Grace was still here with her beat-up Honda. Not that they were talking at the moment, anyway. Grace had gotten sick of Lili’s evasive answers and blown up at her five days ago. Not one message since.
And since she hadn’t spoken to Nick since last Friday’s fight, her list of friends was shrinking.
Lili shuffled to the edge of the stairs to let other students past. But she kept her distance from her father. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“This is important. And if you want to yell at me, at least come to the park where your friends won’t hear you.” He strolled toward the street, a leafy park on the other side.
After a moment she scurried down the stairs. “What’s so important that Mom can’t tell me tomorrow? She’s taking me out to lunch. I thought she told you I needed space.” It had been six weeks since she’d trashed Dad’s office, but each time she saw him the rage bubbled up again.
There was a break in traffic, and Dad headed across the road.
She huffed and followed.
In the park he sat on a sunny bench and indicated the seat next to him.
She stayed standing.
“Mom is helping Sam prepare for his next Wildfire tour,” Dad said, elbows resting on the pinstriped knees of his suit pants. “But we wanted to discuss this with you before we went to Jem tomorrow, so she asked me to come see you this afternoon.”
“What are you discussing with Jem?” Lili’s insides seized like plaster of Paris.
Dad held her gaze. “It’s time for you to come home.”
She stepped back. “I don’t want to.”
He flinched like she’d struck him. “I know you’re mad.”
“Mad? You think I’m just mad?” A buzz started in her ears. He acted like this was an emotion she’d just get over.
“But whatever you feel, this isn’t about us. It’s about Jem. He’s had you for more than two months now. He needs his home back.”
A tidal wave of despair washed over Lili and leaked from her tear ducts. Her one happy-ish refuge was about to disappear.
Dad’s voice turned pleading. “Come on, Lili. What are people going to start thinking about our family if you stay there much longer?” He stood and rested a hand on Lili’s shoulder.
She jerked away.
“We wanted to warn you before we talk to him. Pack your things tonight, and we’ll collect you tomorrow.” He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then sighed. “Do you want a lift back to Jem’s, or would you rather take the bus?”
Lili shook her head and stormed off. He hadn’t even said he missed her.
She stomped for five steps. Dad would stop her at any moment.
Nothing happened.
She twisted to look back. He walked in the opposite direction, shoulders slumped and hands in his pockets.
Her hands trembled as the beast inside strained to break loose from its chains. Were Dad within reach, she’d pound at him with all she had.
Instead she stumbled forward a few more steps and dropped down, sitting on the curb. Hidden from the school by a blue Fiat, she bawled. The gut-wrenching sobs built until they almost cut off her breath.
She couldn’t go back to that house, couldn’t live with her parents, couldn’t help them pretend to the world that everything was okay.
They were liars.
And it seemed Mom and Dad cared more about their pretend life than they did about what it was doing to her.
Lili leaned her forehead against the cold metal of the car and fought for control.
Breathe. Just breathe.
A glint of metal caught her eye. She lifted her head, slid her hand into the wheel rim of the Fiat, and pulled out a hide-a-key.
She turned it over in her hand. She’d seen a similar one before, tucked under the flowerpot at Miss Kent’s—
&n
bsp; Wait. She tipped her head back and scanned the car again.
Miss Kent’s car.
She scrubbed a hand over her face, jumped to her feet, and checked the street. The after-school rush had cleared, and no one was paying her any attention.
No one but her and that baby-blue Fiat, calling her name.
She slid the key into the lock and turned it. The mechanism clicked beneath her hand.
Her lips pulled into a smile.
* * *
It wouldn’t be long before someone caught her snooping.
Lili rummaged around the car’s console with one hand and with the other poked another piece of chicken from her uneaten sandwich through the air vent of Miss Kent’s car. She didn’t dare risk taking the vehicle for a joyride, not with a police captain for a grandfather. But this was better. Another chance to snoop, plus the decaying meat should provide a nice counterbalance to the car’s usual too sweet air freshener.
The console revealed nothing but Nickelback albums and lip balm. Disappointing. She went for the glove box next. Might be a good place to stash the remains of her chicken sandwich.
As she tugged it open, a lemon-yellow box tumbled out. With its wide satin ribbon, it looked like a present. A quick tug loosened the ribbon, and Lili flicked the lid of the box away. She frowned at the contents.
Who gift-wrapped a thermometer?
She plucked the thin piece of plastic from the box and turned it over. There was no screen for the numbers, just a strip of white with two blue lines on it.
Her fingers shook as her vision tunneled onto those two thin lines.
Miss Kent was pregnant.
Lili dropped the pregnancy test like it burned her and flung the box into the back seat. She rubbed her hands on her plum jeggings.
A baby. Her teacher was going to have a baby. With Dad.
Possibilities tumbled through Lili’s mind. Had Dad known? Had this happened on purpose?
The world spun as she hyperventilated. Pins and needles ran through her hands and feet.
“Lili? What are you doing?”
She jolted at the voice next to the car and jerked her gaze to the driver-side window.
