“Honestly? No, Em. I don’t care about a moth’s life right now. We need to get this candy into the car.”
“We need to save this moth.”
Gentry lets out a low growl and stomps to the side door of the garage. She freezes. “Em, did you move the hose?”
“No. I didn’t move your stupid hose, Gentry. Why do you always blame me for everything?”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m just asking a question.”
“You’re never just asking a question. You’re so passive aggressive.”
Gentry shakes her head and lets out another sigh that sounds frustrated to the point of tears. “I don’t have time for this,” she mutters.
She lets herself into the garage and is just stepping back outside when Emily plows into her with her hands cupped around the moth she found.
Gentry falls back against the garage, dropping the candy, and the moth flies out of Emily’s hands and up into the blue sky.
Emily watches it go. “I guess it’s going to live.”
“Good,” Gentry says. “Can you help me with the candy now?”
“Ugh,” Emily says. “Can you just take a second out of your precious life to care about anyone other than yourself?”
“I am caring about someone other than myself. I’m caring about the kids who are going to be at the trunk-or-treat looking for candy when we’re not there.”
“That’s great. Too bad you don’t care enough about the kids you’re supposed to be taking care of to even bother asking them what’s going on in their lives.”
Gentry’s shoulders slump. I can’t make out her expression through the bush, but her body language is giving off complete defeat. What is wrong with Emily? Can’t she see Gentry is doing her best? “It has been really busy lately, Em,” Gentry says. “I get that. But if there’s something you want to talk about, I’m here for you. Is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. Nothing’s okay. But you don’t even care. You just make your stupid rules and demand we do everything you say or you’re going to send us to foster care.”
“I’ve never said that, Em. I’ll never send you to foster care.”
“Right,” Emily says with a sniffle. “We all know your life would besomuch better without us.”
“That’s not—”
“Whatever.” Emily stomps back to the car, gets in, and slams the door hard.
Gentry presses her hands over her face and lets out a small scream of frustration. I wish I could see her face when she drops her hands, but it’s enough to hear her say, “I just keep fucking this up. I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this.”
Seeing Gentry like this, seeing how tough things are for her, I forget entirely how to be mad at her.
All I want to do is make her life easier.
“Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck,” Gentry says. Then she takes a deep breath and starts picking up the candy.
I wish I could help her. I wish I could hug her. But showing myself right now isn’t what she needs.
So, I stay in my bush and barely breathe as I watch her make three trips between the house and the car with the candy.
There’s a brief conversation with Sophie, who insists she’s in the middle of an important text stream about an upcoming test in school and can’t help her older sister.
Finally, Gentry shoves the hose in the garage, locks the door, and leaves.
I stay in my bush for a little while partly because I need a moment to think, but mostly because I’m afraid of moving and getting more scratches from lethal leaves.
When I do finally claw myself free, I immediately place an order for dinner to be delivered to Gentry’s house. I have no idea what she likes, so I keep it teen friendly and go with pizza and breadsticks.
