My father chuckled, then placed one foot on the bench, resting his forearm on his knee. From that angle, he must have seen movement because he looked over and saw me. He straightened up. “Claire?” he asked, a quizzical smile on his face. “What’re you doing here?”
My mom turned too. “Did you come to walk with us?”
I opened my mouth again. Words still weren’t coming. Probably because my heart pounded in my throat as though it were trying to escape through my mouth. I forced out a noise that sounded a lot like little Devan Peterson practicing the violin. And when I finished the screeching crescendo I said, “I know y’all almost got a divorce.”
Both my parents’ mouths dropped open. “What?” they said, almost at the same time.
The person behind the bench stood up. Gray. Red-faced, hair smashed and wet with sweat, he wore his bike shorts and a faded green Nike T-shirt that clung to his chest as if someone had thrown a glass of water on him. He gripped the back of the bench with both hands, his knuckles a sharp white next to his normal tan. Why was he talking to my parents? Or they to him?
He didn’t speak. Didn’t smile. Just stared, his blue eyes slicing like laser beams into my heart. Even sweaty as he was, I wanted to run over and throw my arms around him. Tell him I was sorry, that things had changed, that I’d broken my vow. But none of that could happen. Not here. Not now.
“Claire,” my mother said, her voice quiet and intense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it sounds like something we should discuss at home.”
Dad cleared his throat. “Gray has just been telling us about different kinds of bikes.”
A sad attempt to change the subject if I’d ever heard one. But it didn’t matter because just then Mimi came around the corner of the restroom building followed by her husband Carl pushing Baby Jack in a stroller. “Who got a divorce?” she asked.
Fifty
Gray
At the sight of her sister, Claire’s whole body seemed to sink into itself. She looked away from all of us. If I were to guess, I’d say she was thinking about checking out of this whole mess.
But that was the problem. I couldn’t really tell what was going through her mind. Her dark glasses were starting to tick me off. I couldn’t see her eyes. All I knew was when she saw me, she froze, then went all fidgety. She moved from strangling her T-shirt to rubbing the back of her neck, and for a second I thought she was about to walk right up to me.
But she didn’t.
And even though I wanted to, there was no way I could go over to her. Not with all this family drama going down. Which she’d started. Had she really been about to tell her parents what she was afraid of? If so, did that mean she’d changed her mind? That we might have a chance together?
A sense of hope tried to thread its way into my chest, but I choked it off. I couldn’t go there. Not when I didn’t know for sure what was happening here. Or whether Claire even gave a crap about me.
Claire’s sister edged closer to her parents. “Why isn’t anyone answering me?” Her voice sounded wired tight.
Mr. Gardner, who’d been putting his hands in his pockets and taking them out over and over, shook himself. “Nobody got divorced. I’m not sure what Claire’s talking about.”
They all turned to Claire. She opened her mouth like a gasping fish but then focused on her dad. “A few years ago, after Mimi left … you did too.”
Holy crap. She was doing it. I wanted to pick up my bike and sneak away, but my feet felt like they were trapped in cement.
“What’s she talking about?” Mimi asked.
Claire’s mom had gone pale. “We’ll discuss this later.”
But Mimi took their mother’s hand, her voice hushed and desperate. “No. I need to know. Now.”
Mr. and Mrs. Gardner exchanged looks. For a long moment, the only sound came from the cicadas buzzing in the trees and distant laughter. Then Claire’s dad rested his hands on Mimi’s shoulders. “Let’s take that walk.”
Claire took a step back. She looked around, almost like she was lost. Forgotten was more like it. Her parents were so focused on her sister that they didn’t even notice when she swung around and strode away.
Dammit. Why did parents have to be so clueless?
Claire’s parents and sister moved as a clump toward the path where a man waited with little Jack. Must be her sister’s husband. He said something about taking Jack to get ice cream.
Well, yippee ki-yay. Looked like they had it all worked out. I picked up my bike and headed for the parking lot. I’d just set it down on the sidewalk when I heard Mrs. Gardner say, “Claire?”
I didn’t even look back. Because if I did, and they saw me, I probably wouldn’t be able to keep the disgust off my face.
Once I had my bike loaded up, I sat in the car, letting the air conditioner do its thing, and thinking. Maybe it was the way Claire’s parents had treated her, or maybe it was just because I cared about her, but all of a sudden I didn’t want to give up on dating her. Even though I knew I should. I mean, she’d broken it off. She didn’t want it. But she’d talked to her parents. Didn’t that mean things were changing?
I rubbed the back of my neck. No. No decisions right now. I needed to wait. But hey, I was good at waiting.
Fifty-One
Claire
So … that went well.
I drove out of the parking lot as fast as I could, nearly running over a couple of kids who trotted out in front of my car. Go me.
I took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to let out whatever this was burning inside of me that made my hands shake. I guess it was jealousy. Or resentment. I don’t know, but it was a pretty sure bet my sister could always make things about her. And my mom and dad were pros at the “take care of the biggest need at the moment” style of parenting.
Maybe it was all for the best. At least now I’d lost the fear. So much easier to eventually finish the conversation feeling mad instead of afraid.
Whatever.
My grip on the steering wheel relaxed and a laugh bubbled up from my chest. What a nightmare. Now, even if I told Gray I’d broken my vow, he would probably be so happy to escape my family zoo he’d say, “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I’d driven for five minutes when I passed the “Leighton Heights subdivision one mile ahead” sign. Lindsey’s neighborhood. Maybe I’d just swing by and see if she was home. Apologizing in person was always better than on the phone, and I’d be able to accomplish at least one of the things I needed to do.
When I reached the huge rock walls fronted by fountains that proclaimed Leighton Heights—no ostentation allowed—I turned in and made my way to Lindsey’s house. A shiny black pickup was parked in her driveway. Adam’s truck. Apparently she wasn’t grounded anymore. I shut my eyes and dropped my hands to my lap. Maybe I should come back later. I just hated the feeling I couldn’t get things done, couldn’t resolve anything because other people kept getting in the way.
No. I was going in. If I had to apologize to Lindsey and Adam together, then I’d do it.
Two minutes later, I rang the doorbell. I shifted my feet from side to side, unable to keep still. Muffled voices sounded through the door. And then the snick of the deadbolt being unlocked. The door handle turning.
Lindsey’s smile slid from her face. “Oh. It’s you.”
“Hi. Could I talk to you?” Wearing a flowery cover-up over her bikini, she was blocking the entrance with her body. “Maybe come in for a sec?”
She glanced over her shoulder, then frowned at me. “I’m busy right now.”
“What is it, babe?” Adam asked from somewhere behind her.
Couldn’t he be in the bathroom or the pool or the Outer Hebrides? I forced myself to speak loud and clear. “I’d like to talk to both of you.”
Lindsey stared past me for a full five seconds, then stepped back. “Okay, whatever.”
Once I was in and the door shut, an icy silence fell. Adam strolled over in his swim trunks and
muscle shirt, looking like he owned the place. He rested one arm across Lindsey’s shoulders and smirked at me. Okay, this was going to be harder than I’d thought. The memory of the heinous text he wrote about me simmered just under the surface as I stared back. It would be so satisfying to clamp my hand over his mouth and shove.
But that wasn’t why I was there. It wasn’t about him. It was about Lindsey. About our friendship. I didn’t have to like him to apologize because I was doing it for her.
“So?” she asked, raising both eyebrows in a snooty look—exactly like her mother always did.
An urge to giggle bubbled up because we’d both made fun of that look so many times before. But I tightened my jaw and kept it together. “So,” I said, my voice practically echoing around the hall with its faux-marble floor and high ceiling. I plunged on. “I’ve been pretty mean to both of y’all lately and I just want to say I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt anybody’s feelings. I’m really, really sorry.”
I’d kept my gaze on Lindsey the whole time, watching with relief as her expression softened, but then I looked at Adam. He wasn’t smirking anymore. Just staring at me with an odd little frown like he couldn’t figure me out.
The silence stretched, making the indicator on the awkward meter swing like it was about to break loose. I swallowed. Time to get out of there.
But then Adam smiled his mega white-toothed smile. “Hey, it’s all chill. No worries.”
“Uh, thanks,” I said. I doubted he was sincere, but it didn’t really matter. Lindsey was gazing at the floor like she’d never seen one like it. My heart sank into my stomach. I guess she hadn’t forgiven me. “I’d better go.”
I was out and down the front steps when I heard movement behind me. I swung around. Lindsey wrapped me in a huge hug, jolting me back a step. “Thank you,” she whispered near my ear.
“I meant it. I really am sorry.”
She pulled back, her eyes watery. “I know. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Yeah.” I managed a smile. “Sounds good.”
She grinned and ran back into the house.
I headed for the car, blinking away stinging tears. Finally, something had gone right today.
***
When my parents got home, I was reading on the couch in the sunroom. Murmured voices and shuffling noises came from the kitchen. I stared out at the backyard. The sun had set, a shadowy dusk turning everything a greeny-gray. Even the sunroom had gone dim. I switched on the end-table lamp so I wouldn’t have to hear my mother complain about me ruining my eyes.
“Hello?” my dad called.
I tensed. “In the sunroom.” I was ready for them—not afraid, not even really angry anymore—but this wasn’t going to be a fun conversation.
My dad strolled in carrying a glass of iced tea, a wary expression making him look tired. He sat in one of the armchairs and put his feet on the coffee table. “How’re you doing?”
He was using the therapist voice—too calm, too clinical. Too bad, Dad. You’re not going to get to stay detached from this. I closed the book in my lap and folded my hands on top of it. “More or less okay.”
My mom came in and turned on the other two lamps. Her eyes were puffy, her face blotchy with redness. I didn’t know whether to thank Mimi or yell at her for putting our parents through the wringer.
Mom sank into the empty armchair. “Why didn’t you stay?” she asked, her voice rough and raspy.
“What for? It had turned into the Mimi show. I wouldn’t have had your attention until she was done anyway.”
Anger flashed in my mother’s eyes. “That’s not fair. You can’t just drop a bomb on somebody and not expect them to explode.”
I laced my fingers together. Tightly. “I didn’t know she was there.”
“What possessed you to talk about divorce in the first place?”
I really didn’t know the answer, so I did the best I could. “It came out wrong. I was trying to tell you about my no-dating vow.”
“Oh.” Mom went very still. Like she was afraid if she showed any interest, I’d clam up. “What did you want to say?”
My dad watched me, his gaze intent. Was he checking for signs of anxiety? Nervousness? Having those therapist eyes on me could make anyone fidgety. But despite my clasped hands, I wasn’t nervous. Just ready to get this over with.
Okay then. The best thing would be to say it all at once. No eye contact with either of them. I kept my gaze on the heavy black tread of my dad’s walking sandals.
“When Mimi and Carl eloped, y’all kind of freaked. You argued a lot. And I don’t know if you ever came close to divorce, but I knew Dad’s so-called business trips were really times when y’all separated. So yeah, that was a lie. Then one day, after things settled down, I heard Mom say, ‘If Claire ever puts us through what Mimi did, I may have to kill myself.’”
My mother gasped. “I don’t remember saying that, but I had to be joking. Seriously. I would never kill myself.”
Sandals, sandals. Keep your eyes on the sandals. Stay focused. “I didn’t sleep for a week. And I don’t know if you noticed, but I followed you around the house all the time.”
“No, I didn’t notice.” The bleak tone in her voice made me look over. She was staring at me like she was looking right through me. Or more like she was searching for the past in my face.
If I squeezed my hands together any tighter, I’d break a bone. “Anyway, I think I knew deep down you wouldn’t really kill yourself, but it just reinforced the vow I’d made to not date in high school. I didn’t want to be responsible … for anything.”
My heart was skipping beats. But the worst part was over. My parents looked exhausted. My mother deflated in her chair, her blotchy skin now colorless. My dad took his feet off the table and leaned forward, bowing over his glass.
“Sweetie,” Dad said, not looking up. “I made a lot of mistakes—”
“We both did,” Mom said, tears sliding down her face.
He glanced at her, then over to me. “I’m sorry we lied. We shouldn’t have. But neither could we tell you everything that was going on. You were a child. In a lot of ways, you still are.”
The need to argue rose up, but I let it go. “I heard most of it anyway.”
“Did you eavesdrop?” my mother asked. She didn’t sound mad, just curious.
“A couple of times. But mostly I didn’t need to.”
Dad dropped his head into his hands, making his hair stick out between his fingers. Mom took out a tissue and wiped her cheeks. Time to finish this and make an exit. The cloud of feelings hovering in the room made it hard to think. Where was I? Oh, right. The vow.
“So anyway,” I said, “I just wanted to let y’all know why I made the vow and that I’ve broken it.”
Both of them refocused on me.
“Because of Gray?” Mom asked.
“Kinda,” I said. “But mainly because I have to stop worrying about y’all. I can’t—”
“No, you can’t,” Dad said. “Let us worry about us.”
Mom scooted her chair closer to Dad’s and took his hand. “Besides, there’s nothing to worry about.” They smiled at each other.
A lightness filled my chest. I grinned. Stupidly. Then stared out the window at the darkening sky. I’d done it. I’d talked to them, and no one had run out of the room slamming doors on the way. It was over. All except one thing, which my mom clued into right away.
“So what’s going on with you and Gray?” she asked.
I stood, clutching my book against my stomach. “We’ve had kind of a rocky start. I’m gonna try to fix it.”
“Keep us posted, okay?” Mom asked.
Posted, yeah. Details, no. “Sure.” I started out of the room.
“And, Claire,” Dad said.
I looked back into his tired eyes.
“Thanks for telling us how you felt. It means a lot.”
I almost went over to hug them both, but a burning in the back of my throat stopped me. I so di
dn’t want to fall apart and cry all over them. Instead I croaked out, “No problem,” and took off.
In my LEGO-filled room, I dug my necklace out of my pocket and hung it on the side of my earring holder. I’d wear it again, but it wasn’t where I needed to focus right now.
I wanted to rush over to Gray’s house, tell him what had just happened, and beg for forgiveness. But I needed to think this over, to brainstorm. He was probably at work, anyway.
I made myself grab my laptop and open a new file. I’d really hurt him, and I wasn’t so sure he’d be happy to see me. I needed to be creative about this—to build the best grand gesture ever. One that he couldn’t resist.
And as with any decent structure, I had to build it one careful step at a time. How hard could it be?
Fifty-Two
Claire
The next day, I parked my dad’s SUV in the shade behind a red VW Bug halfway down the block from Gray’s house. Hopefully he wouldn’t recognize it as belonging to my family. At least it was better than me staking out his house in my own car.
I dug my little binoculars out of my purse and focused on the front yard. A man, probably Gray’s dad, was watering the bushes with a hose. Two little boys ran back and forth across the grass as the man squirted them off and on. I checked the time on the car’s dash. 6:15. Gray should be coming out any time now. I’d called Trey Berger, who for some reason acted like we were best buds, to find out when Gray had to work that night. In fact, Trey tried so hard to get me to tell him what I was going to do I finally threatened to beat him up if he told Gray I’d called. He just laughed and said he’d defer to my Jedi mastery. Weird.
The man set the hose under a bush and headed for the driveway. Probably a bad idea. Sure enough, the little boys grabbed the hose in what looked like a life-or-death struggle with a water snake. I found the man again with the binoculars. Gray had backed his car out of the garage and the man was talking to him through the open window. The conversation lasted about five seconds, and then Gray was driving down the street. Toward me.
Life in the No-Dating Zone Page 22
