“Is this a date?” Mom asks.
I expect Charlie to explode, but instead he just blushes.
Dad looks confused.
“You’re going on a date with Ruby?” I ask. “My Ruby?”
“She’s not your Ruby,” Charlie says.
“Who’s Ruby?” Dad says.
“I’m happy to hear you’re making new friends,” Mom adds.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I start, thinking of what Matty said about Charlie cheating on Erin.
“Will someone please tell me who Ruby is?” Dad asks.
“Does Ruby want to come over for dinner sometime?” Mom offers.
Charlie groans. “This is why I never tell any of you anything.”
“We’re sorry,” Mom says.
Dad still looks confused. “What are we sorry about?”
“I’m not sorry,” I say. “You should have told me.”
Charlie grabs a dinner roll, stuffing half of it in his mouth while talking. “I’m telling you now. Besides, why do I have to tell you anything? She’s my friend too.”
I fix my gaze evenly on him. “Charlie, if you mess with Ruby’s heart, I will murder you.”
He rolls his eyes.
“I’m not kidding. I know about you and Erin.”
“What happened with Erin?” Dad asks.
“Nothing, all right?” Charlie snaps at him before turning back to me. “You don’t know the first thing about me and Erin.”
“I know what Matty told me that night at the river.”
His face blanches. “God, I can’t catch a break with you, can I?” he asks, voice cracking in frustration.
Mom clears her throat, giving Dad and me warning looks before turning back to my brother. “Charlie, I’m sorry we’re not respecting your privacy,” she says. “We all look forward to you sharing when and if you want to share.”
“But—” I start, but Mom cuts me off, her face making it clear we are changing the subject. Right. Now. “Parker, how was your internship today? You haven’t talked much about it lately,” she asks.
Crud.
I slink back in my seat. “It’s good,” I offer, which isn’t exactly a lie. After class today, I overheard Henry telling Carla he was so glad he came. “It’s really good, actually. There was a new patient in the pediatric ward today named Henry, and I think he was feeling really overwhelmed about being there, but I helped him fit in.”
“That must be so hard for his family,” Mom says, and for a second I feel guilty about my lie.
Dad jumps in. “Are you making some good contacts? You know, any contact you make now is only going to help you in the long run. These are the people who might hire you someday.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I nod, purposefully shoving a forkful of salad in my mouth.
Dad looks pleased, but when I look over at Charlie, he has this knowing expression on his face, like he can tell I’m lying.
I shift uneasily and remind myself he doesn’t know anything about the internship.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Mom says. “I ran into Mrs. Delaney at the grocery store the other day. . . .”
This change of subject 100 percent works.
“She was asking all about you. She says the boys miss you a lot. Evidently, they locked their new babysitter out of the house. Helen had to come home from work to let her in.”
“That sounds about right,” I say. “Remember that afternoon I had to call poison control to determine if eating toy slime was dangerous?”
“It’s a miracle those kids are still alive,” Dad says.
“Helen also said she thought she saw you the other afternoon, at the Float in the middle of the day. . . .”
Uh-oh.
“But I told her you must have another twin out in the world.”
I smile weakly, but Charlie leans forward eagerly. “That’s weird. A Parker look-alike at the Float when the real Parker’s at her internship? Huh. What are the odds? Do you know, little sister? It’s not like you could be in two different places at the same time.” He gives me a taunting smile, and my mouth flaps open, then closes again, the rest of me freezing in sheer panic.
Charlie knows.
I don’t know how he found out, but he knows.
I abruptly stand. “I’m going to start the dishes,” I say, taking my half-full plate of chicken and rice and walking into the kitchen.
Underneath the sound of my heart, I hear my parents in the dining room.
“Hon, we need to talk about our strategy for winning euchre tonight. I’m tired of the Dickersons winning.”
“I’m all ears.”
As they discuss the benefits of “leading trump on defense,” I scrape my leftover food into the garbage and rinse the dishes before I put them in the dishwasher.
I’m trying to stay calm, but what I really want to do is throw the dishes on the floor and run out of the house and keep running and never stop.
Charlie saunters into the kitchen with his dishes, Mustard following him in a quest for table scraps, and I take Charlie’s plate, wishing he’d just leave already.
Instead he leans against the counter, arms folded, legs crossed, expression smug, like he’s watching a tennis match and his guy is winning.
I cut to the chase. “How’d you find out?”
“I stopped by the Float at lunch earlier this week and saw you going into that pottery place. And when I went back the next day, you were there again. Your nails finally made sense.”
“My nails?” I look down.
“Yeah. There’s been a lot of dirt under your fingernails. You wouldn’t last more than two minutes at Children’s with those germ-infested fingers.” He shrugs, but then he looks at me, and this time his expression is more careful, arms at his sides. “Is everything okay—” he starts.
“Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?” I interrupt.
He rolls his eyes and looks away, folding his arms again. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“Are you going to warn Ruby off of me?”
I frown. “Is this blackmail?”
He sighs in frustration. “I was kind of hoping it was more me asking you to give me a chance with her, but yeah, if you want to put it like that, be my guest.”
“Ruby’s my friend, and she has a really big heart, so you have to be careful with her. I’m not kidding, Charlie.”
“I’m not either!” he snaps. And then he takes a breath, refusing to look at me. “I like her, all right?”
His confession sits there still and heavy between us while the world goes on around us, the sound of Mr. Edwards mowing the lawn outside the screen window, Mom and Dad still strategizing in the dining room, Mustard chirruping at my feet, twining himself between my legs.
I wish I could let it go, but I don’t trust him not to hurt her.
“I just don’t think you and Ruby are a good idea,” I say.
“God, I’m so sick of this,” he mutters.
“Sick of what?”
“Sick of how you treat me. Sick of how you won’t ever give me a chance. Sick of how you constantly think you know what’s best.”
I flinch.
“You want blackmail? Okay, here it is. You do anything to ruin me and Ruby, the jig is up on your internship, okay? How’s that for a ‘good idea’?”
My heart is pounding so hard, it might fly out of my mouth. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
I turn my back on him, focusing on washing the food off the plate so he doesn’t see my hands shaking. “If you even remotely think of breaking her heart, all bets are off,” I say.
I wait for him to agree, but when I look over my shoulder, he’s long gone.
Thirty-Eight
AN HOUR LATER, I’M sitting on our porch swing with my laptop, one foot tucked under me, replaying Charlie’s words, debating whether or not I just made the wrong decision regarding him and Ruby.
I feel gross and sad and anxious and complicit and then sad again.
I try to shake it all off, looking up from my laptop.
Even though it’s getting pretty dusky, next door, Mrs. Edwards is working on her garden, planting marigolds in neat lines, Mr. Edwards puttering behind her on the lawn mower, still. I honestly don’t know how there’s any grass left to mow at this point.