No scoff at least.
“All the things I want you to do? Figure out what you want in life. Find your own path. Make mistakes but actually learn from them. Leave behind what doesn’t bring you joy, what you’ve outgrown. I wasn’t doing any of it when I was married to your dad.” She was still circling the couch. “I thought I was staying in the marriage for you—so you didn’t have to go through your parents divorcing. But, in the end, I left it for you. Because how could I raise you to do all those things when I wasn’t doing them myself?”
For the first time in the conversation, Erin wished she could see Parker’s face. She might not have been able to get the words out if she’d had Parker’s eyes on her, but now she wanted to see them, to know how they looked. Bright blue like the summer sky? Or clear like ice over a pond, which meant tears were coming if they weren’t already there. Did the little wrinkle on Parker’s forehead come out as she furrowed her brow?
After a minute, when Parker still hadn’t responded, Erin stopped walking. She hugged the arm not holding the phone around her, tight.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “For doing it. For taking so long to do it. For taking so long to have this conversation.” She tacked “I love you so much” on the end.
“I love you,” Parker said, quiet, and her eyes must’ve been icy, because there were definitely tears in her voice. “Thank you, for telling me this.”
“I know it’s random. I just—I wanted you to know.”
“I’m glad you told me.” Silence. “All those things you want me to do: are you doing them now?”
Erin considered it. “I’m trying to, at least.”
Over the line, Parker sniffed. “I’m … happy for you, Mom.”
“Yeah?” Erin rubbed hard at her eyes.
“Yeah. It’s weird, but I’m happy for you.”
Of course it was weird to talk to your mom about why she divorced your dad. It was weird for Erin to talk to her daughter about it. But they’d done it. It felt like a lot more than a baby step toward being closer with Parker.
“I love you,” Erin said again.
“Okay, enough, let’s stop being mushy,” Parker said wetly. “Tell me more about the clinic.”
That felt like a step, too, Parker asking for more than the bare minimum of information about Erin’s job. Erin wiped her eyes and told Parker about the clinic.
Nineteen
CASSIE
If Cassie thought Parker had disappeared before their fight, she was really gone, now. A campus of barely a thousand people, and still, Cassie never saw Parker, even in passing. She tried not to care.
So what if Parker thought Cassie didn’t know how to be in a relationship? Maybe she was right. Cassie had had one serious partner and he’d cheated on her. All of that was true. It didn’t excuse the way Parker had talked to her, like she was stupid. It didn’t excuse the way Parker had ghosted once she started dating Sam. Cassie might not know how to be in a relationship, but she knew it didn’t mean abandoning your friends.
She didn’t need to know how to be vulnerable or be in a relationship to fuck Parker’s mom. She imagined, briefly, telling Parker that. It’d only be out of spite though, a Look, I can be a terrible friend, too. But if Parker knew what Cassie and Erin were doing, they’d have to stop. Plus, Acacia would murder her, probably, and Cassie might not care about losing Parker’s friendship, but she wasn’t about to lose Acacia’s.
Parker and Acacia were spending spring break together visiting Emerson in Chicago. Acacia had invited Cassie, hesitantly, but Cassie had begged off. Not because it would’ve been awkward, she and Parker trying to be friendly—or Cassie trying, anyway, she wasn’t sure where Parker stood on the whole thing.
She’d begged off because she already had spring break plans.
Two nights in Boston, paid for by United Aerospace Laboratories. They were flying her out to interview for what was basically her dream job.
She’d had to lie, just a little, in the phone interview, about grad school. A company in Boston wasn’t gonna hire someone who wanted to go to California at the end of the summer. So Cassie had played up her application to MIT. It wasn’t lying, really—she had applied to MIT. Lately, it didn’t even feel like the worst option.
Caltech was just so far.
She’d been away from Acacia for the first three years of college. More than two hours away.
At college, Cassie had never expected to be homesick. She didn’t even like her hometown. She went back during breaks only to see the Webbs—hadn’t spent a single night in her mom’s trailer since she’d headed off for Keckley. Somehow, two months into freshman year, she missed Acacia so much she’d called her crying, just to hear her voice. Acacia had shown up on campus that weekend—a spur of the moment surprise to make Cassie feel better.
They couldn’t do that if Cassie went to Caltech.
Cassie would be happy. She’d love what she was studying, and she’d make other friends eventually, probably. But she wouldn’t be able to get in a car and drive to Acacia in a day. That knowledge made her second-guess what she’d thought was her dream since she was a kid.
It didn’t hurt that she knew, if she got this UAL job, they’d help pay for her to go to MIT.
And maybe it helped that Erin was near Boston, too.
Cassie hadn’t told anyone except Professor Upton about the second interview. She hadn’t even told anyone about the phone interview—it had been right after Parker, like, snapped at her or whatever. They hadn’t been talking, and still weren’t, and she and Acacia had been both awkwardly talking about Parker and actively avoiding talking about Parker, so the interview hadn’t come up.
Not that Cassie would’ve said anything, anyway. She didn’t want to get her hopes up. If people knew she wanted it and she didn’t get it, that’d be so much worse than not getting it without everyone knowing she’d failed.
There was an a cappella concert the weekend before spring break. Cassie almost wished she didn’t want to go. It’d be easier if she didn’t want to support Parker, if she didn’t miss her. But she did, and so she went, sitting in the front row with Acacia and determinedly not thinking about the last concert.
When it was over, Parker met them in the audience, beaming and laughing. She hurled herself into Acacia’s arms and latched on to Cassie next. Her body went stiff halfway through the hug. Cassie let her go gently. Parker, face flushed, ducked her head, then looked up at Cassie.
“I’m glad you came.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Cassie said. “You were great.”