He gave me a slight shake of his head. ‘She feels bad for pushing him.’
‘He feels bad for snapping, so don’t give him a hard time,’ I murmured.
Cam gazed over at his friend and then whispered, ‘You forget I know, Liv. I wasn’t going to give him a hard time. But I sometimes wonder if someone should.’
Not really sure how to answer that, I gave him a sad smile and slipped past. I found Jo in the kitchen, pouring bags of chips – or crisps, as she and Dad called them – into bowls. I spotted packets of peanuts and empty bowls, and began to help out.
‘So how’s your week going?’ I asked her quietly. ‘Has Dad worked you to the bone?’
Jo smiled at me over her shoulder. ‘We’re really busy. But that’s a good thing.’
‘And the new employees?’
‘Good. I think Cam was a bit worried about it – how the guys would treat me – but Mick has chosen carefully. They’re literally two more Uncle Micks, so I’ve got three of them to deal with now.’
I smiled. ‘I gathered that much when talking to Dad.’
‘What about you?’ Her brow puckered as she stared at me. ‘Are you okay? You seem … I don’t know … Last night at the restaurant you were really quiet. Is it Mick and Dee? Are you okay about them? We haven’t really spoken about it and they definitely seem serious now.’
Last night I had been quiet, but it was mostly because I was replaying all the very complimentary and somewhat risqué things Nate had said to me during our lessons the night before. ‘Honestly, it’s just been a tiring week. I think Dee is great. No problems there.’
‘You’re still allowed to feel strange about it – you know that, right?’
I shook my head but felt that ache press in on my chest as I replied, ‘Dad adored Mom and he held her hand through it all. She spent a lot of their marriage sick. Too sick. So sick they were more like companions than lovers, but Dad didn’t complain. I don’t think he even cared – he loved her that much.’ I smiled through my suddenly blurry vision. ‘He deserves happiness now. Dee is really cool and she makes him happy. I’m good with it.’
I wasn’t surprised to see tears shimmering in Jo’s eyes. She had a tendency to cry when her friends did because she cared enough to feel what they felt. ‘You can always talk to me, Liv, if you’re having a hard time about anything.’
Of course I knew this was true and I knew that Jo would be there for me anytime I needed her, if only just to listen. I knew I could talk to her if I was having a bad time about my mom, but the last time I did go through a hard time about it – which was Thanksgiving last year – Nate happened to be the one who was there to see me through it.
As for the problems I was having now …
I couldn’t talk to Jo about them.
Starting over in Scotland, starting over with Jo, was a clean slate in more ways than one. I didn’t have a close group of friends back in the States, but those few friends I did leave behind knew me long enough to know my history – or lack of – with men. They never said it outright, but they always spoke to me about guys with this hint of pity, sometimes even superiority, that made me feel even worse about myself.
But Jo … Jo didn’t know any of this.
When we first met she was going through some pretty bad stuff with her mom and dad. For a long time I think she thought the abuse she suffered at their hands was somehow her fault. Meeting her at such an emotional time for her accelerated our friendship. I became a confidante for her, and somehow I found the right words to make her feel better about herself. Because of that and my sometimes cocky sense of humor, Jo saw me as this self-assured, strong, confident, and sassy woman. I knew this because she told me so all the time. She told me she admired me. With Jo, I liked myself so much more than I usually did. She was the only mirror I liked looking into.
I wasn’t ready to let go of those moments when I felt about myself the way I should. Telling her the truth, about all these insecurities that Nate was helping me through, would put an end to that. I wanted to continue to grow into the person I wanted to be, and then I would open up to her. Not confiding in her was not a reflection upon how good a friend she was. Because she was the best.
‘I know I can always come to you.’ I grabbed her hand and squeezed it affectionately. ‘You’re the best non-sister sister I ever had.’