“Mom, for goodness sakes.” I lowered myself onto the edge of her bed. “Don’t talk like that.”
“I mean it,” she sniffed. “Sometimes it feels like you and Ethan would be better off without me.”
Sometimes it did feel like that, so I didn’t deny it. I didn’t want anything to happen to her. I just wished she wasn’t so angry and hateful all the time.
Things were already bad when she first got diagnosed with Lupus last year. It was a million times worse when my dad admitted he’d been having an affair and moved to California three months ago. Now it was the end of July and my mother’s volatile temper seemed to be increasing with the heat.
“You know we love you, Mom. Ethan was just saying he wished you felt well enough to come to some of his games.”
Not that she ever really did. That was dad’s thing. She always said baseball bored her.
“Great, now you’re trying to make me feel guilty.” She pushed the plate containing her pasta away and it spilled onto the comforter. I retrieved a hand towel from her bathroom and cleaned the mess. “You’ve ruined my appetite. Just go. I’m sick of looking at you.”
I swallowed my hurt feelings and stood, placing what food I could salvage back onto the plate. “You need to eat, whether you’re mad at me or not. I’ll be home soon. I love you.”
I nearly choked on the last words, knowing I wouldn’t hear them back.
Try to put yourself in her position, my dad was always telling me.Give her time. She’s angry with God and with me. She’ll stop taking it out on you eventually.
Yeah right. Easy for him to say. He ran for the Hollywood hills, literally. My mom wasn’t warm and fuzzy before he left for Los Angeles with his assistant turned fiancée. Now she was downright toxic.
Once I was clear of her room, I closed her door just in time to hear the plate slam against it. I’d have to deal with that mess later because I also heard a horn honk outside.
“Let’s go, E,” I said, knocking on my brother’s bedroom door. “Camille’s here.”
Had to be Camille. Drew knew better than to honk and risk waking or upsetting my mother.
My brother opened his door, looking handsome in khaki cargo shorts and a royal blue collared shirt he only wore to church. I blinked, making sure I wasn’t losing my eye sight at seventeen. Typically his wardrobe consisted of stained T-shirts and basketball shorts and I had to beg him to bathe.
“I’m ready.”
“Is that gel in your hair?” I’d never seen him so put together. “Is there more to wanting to go to this carnival than you’re telling me? Like a certaingirlnamed Hailee Michaels?”
Ethan’s twelve-year-old face turned red. “No. It’s just a little mousse.”
Apparently mousse was lower on the effort hierarchy.
“Ah, must not be for a girl then.”
I kept up with him the best I could. Eavesdropping when I had the opportunity because he hardly told me anything anymore. I knew it wouldn’t be long before his friends started experimenting with girls and drugs and alcohol. I prayed my dad was still going to handle those talks—even if they were FaceTimed from long distance.
“You look handsome, anyway. Eat your heart out, Hailee Michaels.” I ruffled his stiffmoussedhair and locked up before we made our way to my friend’s maroon 4Runner.
As we approached, Camille glanced up from her phone and waved excitedly.
She squealed when we climbed in. “Hey, hey! Look at you in your cute shorts!”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, closing my door then checking to make sure Ethan buckled his seat belt. I definitely didn’t feel cute. Mom’s anger had seeped into my skin like sewage.
“Hey, hot stuff,” Camille greeted my brother before turning back me. “Seriously. You always look adorable at work, but those legs of yours are making me sexually confused.”
“Oh yeah, I’m a regular runway model.” Rolling my eyes, I leaned in for a hug.
Camille was older than me, having graduated from our small high school the previous year. Working toward her nursing degree, she took part-time classes at a community college and worked full-time at the coffee shop. She was really Drew’s friend, but we’d worked together all summer so I had inherited her by association.
She gave me a brief but tight squeeze. “I missed you! I’m so glad you’re coming out tonight!”
It felt like overkill but I appreciated her attempt. “You just saw me at work a few hours ago.”
