She sets the mail aside and puts her hands on her hips, turning toward me. “All right. Why are you acting so irritated with me? At first, I thought this moodiness was because Landon left, but it’s been weeks.”
I pick up my bowl and dump the leftover milk down the sink. “I’m fine.”
“You aren’t fine. Tell me what’s going on.”
Slowly, I turn to her. I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t help myself, so I say, “Is that what we do? Talk about the big, important things in our lives? Because I’m pretty sure we don’t.”
She catches me by the arm before I walk out the door. “Enough of this. What’s going on with you?”
“Maybe a better question would be what’s going on with you and Uncle Mark.”
She rears back like I slapped her and opens her mouth like she’s going to say something. But no words come out.
I give her several moments to come clean, brace myself for the inevitable excuses. Shaking my head, sick of just about everything, I walk out the door.
“Wait, Lacey,” she hollers after me.
I almost don’t turn back, but there’s something off about her voice.
“You got something in the mail.” She holds out an envelope, but she doesn’t meet my eyes.
Hesitating, I stand here, wondering if going back now will ruin my dramatic exit. It probably will, but I don’t get mail, and curiosity wins.
I take the envelope from her and frown when I see it has no return name or address. As I’m studying it, trying to decide if I’m going to open it now or later, Mom softly says, “I’m sorry.”
From the corner of my eye, I see how she nervously shifts.
“You weren’t supposed to find out—” she silences me with a hand in the air when I start to snarl. “Because we knew it would hurt you.We didn’t want to tell you if it was something fleeting.”
“What about Dad?” I demand, lowering my voice.
Her eyes soften, and she shakes her head. “He’s gone, Lace. He’s been gone for eleven years.”
“But Mark’s hisbrother.”
She gives me a helpless shrug. “These things just happen sometimes.”
Not to us. To other people—messed up people. We’re supposed to benormal. Maybe a little broken, but normal nonetheless.
Are they going to get married? Am I going to have to live with them both under the same roof? Mark’s around all the time, but it would be different.
And what if they decide to have more kids? Mom’s only thirty-eight. It’s not impossible. Then my sister or brother would also be my cousin.
If that’s not dysfunctional, I don’t know what is.
“I’m sorry we hurt you,” Mom says. She sets her hand on my cheek like she used to do when I was little. “I really am.”
“I know.” And I mean it. I don’t think she ever meant to cause me turmoil, but it was inevitable. “Now what?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
“Are you guys…together now?”
Slowly, gauging my reaction, she nods. “I think so.”
Yuck.
“Okay,” I say, tapping my palm with the envelope. I start to turn away, and then I look back, sensing this is a good time to test the waters. “What if I wanted to go away to college? Or just leave Gray Jay completely after I graduate?”
