‘For not being like him.’
Eleanor looked dubious. ‘Has he been mad at you for the last sixteen years?’
‘Basically.’
‘But it always seemed like you got along …’ she said.
‘No,’ Park said, ‘never. I mean, we were kind of getting along for a while, because I finally got in a fight, and because he thought my mom was being too hard on you.’
‘I knew she didn’t like me!’
Eleanor poked Park’s arm.
‘Well, now she likes you,’ he said, ‘so now my dad is back to not liking me.’
‘Your dad loves you,’ she said. It seemed to really matter to her.
Park shook his head. ‘Only because
he
has
to.
He’s
disappointed in me.’
Eleanor laid her hand on his chest, and his mom opened the door.
‘Come in, come in,’ she said.
‘Too cold.’
Eleanor ‘Your hair looks nice, Eleanor,’
Park’s mom said.
‘Thank you.’
Eleanor wasn’t diffusing, but she was using the conditioner Park’s mom had given her. And she’d actually found a satin pillowcase in the stack of towels and stuff in her bedroom closet, which was practically a sign from God that He wanted Eleanor to take better care of her hair.
Park’s mom really did seem to like her better now. Eleanor hadn’t consented to another full-on makeover, but Park’s mom was always trying new eyeshadows on her or messing with her hair while she sat at the kitchen table with Park.
‘I should have had girl,’ his mom said.
I should have had a family like this, Eleanor thought. And it only sometimes made her feel like a traitor to think so.
CHAPTER 38
Eleanor
Wednesday nights were the worst.
Park
had
taekwando,
so
Eleanor went straight home after school, took a bath, then tried to hide in her room all night, reading.
It was way too cold to play outside, so the little kids were crawling up the walls. When Richie came home, there was no place for anybody to hide.
Ben was so afraid that Richie would send him to the basement early that he was sitting in the bedroom closet, playing with his cars.
When Richie turned on Mike Hammer their mom shooed Maisie into the bedroom, too, even though Richie said she could stay.
Maisie paced the room, bored and irritable. She walked over to the bunk bed.
‘Can I come up?’
‘No.’
‘Please …’
Their beds were junior-sized, smaller than a twin, just barely big enough for Eleanor. And Maisie wasn’t one of those stringy, weightless nine-year-olds …
‘Fine,’ Eleanor groaned.
She scooted over carefully, like she was on thin ice, and pushed her grapefruit box behind her into the corner.
Maisie climbed up and sat on Eleanor’s pillow. ‘What’re you reading?’
‘ Watership Down.’
Maisie wasn’t paying attention.
She folded her arms and leaned toward Eleanor. ‘We know you have a boyfriend,’ she whispered.
Eleanor’s heart stopped. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend,’ she said blankly – and immediately.
‘We already know,’ Maisie said.
Eleanor looked over at Ben, sitting in the closet. He stared at her without giving up a thing.
Thanks to Richie, they were all experts
in
the
blank-face
department. They should find some family poker tournament …
‘Bobbie told us,’ Maisie said.
‘Her big sister goes with Josh Sheridan, and Josh says you’re his brother’s girlfriend. Ben said you weren’t, and Bobbie laughed at him.’
Ben didn’t flinch.
‘Are you going to tell Mom?’
Eleanor asked. May as well cut to the chase.
‘We haven’t told her yet,’
Maisie said.
‘Are you going to?’ Eleanor resisted the urge to shove Maisie off the bed. Maisie would go nuclear.
‘He’ll make me leave, you know,’ Eleanor said fiercely. ‘If I’m lucky, that’s the worst that’ll happen.’
‘We’re not going to tell,’ Ben whispered.
‘But it’s not fair,’ Maisie said, slumping against the wall.
‘What?’ Eleanor said.
‘It’s not fair that you get to leave all the time,’ Maisie said.
‘What do you want me to do?’
Eleanor asked. They both stared at her, desperate and almost …
almost hopeful.
Everything anybody ever said in this house was desperate.
Desperate was white noise, as far as Eleanor was concerned – it was the hope that pulled at her heart with dirty little fingers.
She was pretty sure she was wired wrong somewhere, that her plugs were switched, because instead of softening toward them – instead of tenderness – she felt herself go cold and mean. ‘I can’t take you with me,’ she said, ‘if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘Why not?’ Ben said. ‘We’ll just hang out with the other kids.’
‘T h er e are no other kids,’
Eleanor said, ‘it’s not like that.’
‘You don’t care about us,’
Maisie said.