“Does he go to the daycare?”
She nodded. “His parents don’t have much. When he was a baby, his mom would bring him in the same ratty jacket every day, even in the freezing temperatures. Louise said his wardrobe hasn’t changed a whole lot since I’ve been gone.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, you could at least do the kid a solid and knit Spider-Man onto it or something. And, really, is that a turtleneck?”
“He’s a little boy, Regina. He doesn’t care what he looks like.”
There was a length of time when all she did was look at the sweater, forcing joy into her face like it was medicine she was pumping through a tube. She missed Joshua, and I’d have bet she missed all of them. I couldn’t imagine why. Personally, I hated children. The farther away from children I could get, the better. But Karen never saw it that way. She’d always been obsessed with kids (see: covered-in-snot mini-humans).
“Why did you quit your job?” I asked.
She opened her eyes bigger, then bowed her head and took a bite of her gross peas. “I got tired of working.”
“But you loved working.”
“At the time.”
“Why? What changed?”
She took her glasses off and pinched her nose. “I’m getting older, sweetheart. Okay? I didn’t have the strength anymore. Let’s leave it at that.” She put her glasses back on and gestured to my plate. “Eat your food.”
I would have pressed her the way she always pressed me, but when I did that, I usually ended up grounded, and her answer might not have been interesting enough to be worth it. We ate in silence for the remainder of the meal.
Silence. Now, that was a perk of living. Granted, it never lasted. Just as we were settling into the quiet we both urgently needed, my phone vibrated loudly on the table. I grabbed it and read the text that was spread across the screen.
COME OVER TONIGHT. PLEASE. I’LL RESPECT YOUR DEPRESSION AND LET YOU SULK IN MISERY UNTIL YOU GROW OLD IN UNHAPPINESS AND DIE ALONE IF YOU WILL JUST COME OVER TONIGHT. AND YOU’RE PRETTY. I THINK I’M SUPPOSED TO SAY THAT. COME OVER.
Another allcaps text from Snake begging for my company. That didn’t reek of desperation or anything. His focus on me was bordering on obsession. Then again, my hatred for him was bordering on maniac. Something had to be done about our mutual insanities.
“Who’s that?” Karen asked, standing to her feet to clear the table.
I tossed my dishes into the sink. “Just Polka asking about our final paper.” I took a step aside in case a bolt of lightning tried to strike me.
I didn’t want to see him. I wanted to see him. I didn’t want to think about him. He was all I thought about. He and I were a contradiction in ourselves, so alike we were entirely different. Grounded or not, consumed by hatred or not, I knew I had to face him eventually. Why not tonight? How could seeing his dumb, pretty face one more time make any of this worse? He would probably try to make me hate him because it was just another thing he needed. But hating him was something I needed too.
I ran upstairs while my mother was distracted with cleaning the dishes, and tossed a gray sweater over my shirt, then laced up my combat boots. When I finally made it downstairs, Karen was wiping the kitchen table with a wet washcloth.
“Where are you going?” she called.
“On a walk.”
“It’s getting late.”
“It’ll clear my head, help me get ideas for the paper.”
“Fine. You can walk, but be back inside before it gets dark. I read this story about a girl who—”
I was in the minivan before she finished the sentence.
Chapter Nine
THE ELIOTS HAD THE STRANGEST WELCOME mat. It had dog bones bordering the word Welcome, which implied that the family living inside the house had a dog. Except that Snake didn’t have a dog. So clearly, he wasn’t the only member of his family who did things for the heck of it and made decisions that required absolutely no thought or common sense whatsoever. Jeez. His family had to be a real class act (see: band of tasteless jerks).
I rang the doorbell. One of those fancy doorbells that echoed for ten seconds so that the people outside would think that the people inside needed that long a warning in order to set aside their important lives. Footsteps neared, but they weren’t loud and clunky and awkward. I knew they couldn’t belong to Snake.
The woman who opened the door was one of Snake’s moms, presumably. She was Latina and petite and gorgeous, the natural gorgeous, not the face-painted-on kind. She’d been working out, so her purple exercise shirt was stained with sweat, and even her sweat was flawless. She smiled a Colgate commercial smile when she saw me.
“Are you Reggie?” she asked.
That wasn’t good. She knew me. That meant Snake talked about me. That also meant she knew Snake was a cheating scumbag. Which would have implied that I was the lover of her son the cheating scumbag. Which would lead her to the conclusion that I, myself, was a skanky cheating scumbag. I blamed Snake.
“Hi,” I said in a really girly way that was super unlike me.
“Come in,” she replied.
I stepped into their sterile living room with the therapy couches and swanky magazine tables.
“Would you like a drink?” she asked.
“No, thank you. Is Snake here?”
I knew Snake was there. The Namaste Prius was parked in the driveway. Asking was my attempt at polite. Unlike depression, it wasn’t my best look.
“He’s upstairs in his room.” She smiled. Perfectly, of course. “He’s told us a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope.”
“Great things. He’s lucky to have you.”
That infuriated me beyond reason. I rolled my eyes. So much for polite. “He doesn’t have me. He has a girlfriend.”
“Carla. Yes, we know.”
She fiddled with the string on her pants and didn’t say much else. I could tell she was a talker, just by the brightness of her smile and her warm welcome. But saying Carla’s name made her visibly uncomfortable. It didn’t make sense, considering parents usually loved Carla, even the pregnant version.
“You know, Snake called me a hundred times last night. You should really monitor his cell phone usage.”
She smiled. “We’re sorry if Snake has caused you any trouble. He’s a very sweet kid, and he means well. It’s just that his efforts have a tendency to be a tad misguided sometimes.”
“Ha,” I huffed. “No kidding.” I knew I shouldn’t have been so abrasive. It wasn’t making the best impression. But if Carla couldn’t get her approval, I didn’t stand a chance. “Permission to speak boldly?”
She let out a soft laugh. “I think you will no matter what I say. So yes.”