“Or he heard I’m living at the Lucky Lobster.”
God, it sounds so awful when I say it out loud. Like Wes Anderson got really depressed and this is the movie he made.
“What’s weird, Gray?” Luca asks.
I take a deep breath and glance toward Eva on the chair. Her eyes are on her phone’s screen, probably watching leaps and pirouettes or whatever you call them. She looks beautiful just sitting there. She looks sad, too, and I know she misses more than her mom.
“I just . . . it’s so easy with Eva,” I say.
Luca tilts his head. “And that’s weird?”
“A little? I don’t know. I feel happy.”
Luca frowns. “You mean, you’ve never felt happy before now? God, I am a shitty friend.”
I laugh. “No, you’re not. It’s just different with Eva. You and Emmy have always made me feel . . . hopeful. Safe.” I look down, sliding my finger over middle C. “I know I’m too much sometimes.”
“Hey.” He nudges my shoulder until I look at him. “You’re not too much. At least, no more than me or Eva or whoever the hell. You’re just . . .”
I lean against his shoulder. He leans back.
“I’m just what?” I ask.
He sighs. “You’re just a kid who’s had to be a grownup way too many times.”
Tears spring into my eyes, but I squeeze them back. “Being a grownup sucks.”
He laughs and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “It looks like it sucks. Let’s never get old.”
“Neverland, here we come.”
“I’ve always wanted to wear a leaf shirt and tights.”
“Will Kimber be your happy thought?”
He grins and waggles his eyebrows. “Well, I know who yours will be.”
I flap my hands and lift up a little like I’m about to take flight right there. Soon we’re laughing and Luca’s trying to noogie me to keep my butt on the piano bench.
“How long are you going to be in the motel?” he asks after the laughter dissolves.
“Not sure. Mom’s looking for a place.” At least, I think she is. I haven’t seen her much, to be honest. I’ve spent most of my time at work or here, practicing. When I went to sleep last night, she’d been AWOL all day. I set my alarm to wake me up every hour, and around three, I lifted my head to see her small form curled up on the bed, reeking of cigarettes and beer. Most likely, she’s been hanging out at Ruby’s, but I don’t have the energy to fight her on it. At least she’s not asking me to go, which is both a relief and worrisome.
“Come to dinner tonight,” Luca says. “Eva’s got to work and I know she’s your girl and all, but some you-and-me time wouldn’t hurt, you know? Mom said she’d make whatever you want. She hates that you feel like this. We don’t wish you were different, Gray. We really don’t.”
I smile and nod, relieved as hell that Emmy wants me there.
“Pizza fries?” I ask.
“Pizza fries.”
I lean my head on his shoulder, and he swings an arm around me.
“I think you’re good for her,” he says. “For Eva. She’s happy—?well, happier. And I think she’s good for you, too. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Thanks. I mean it.”
Suddenly, he shoves me upright and flicks open my music book in one motion. “Now get your ass to work.”
I plant my fingers on the keys and smile like I’m posing for a picture. He ruffles my hair, and I start the beginning of Fantasie as he leaves.
But as soon as he’s out the door, my fingers go still.
Luca and I are in the middle of the most epic pizza-fry war in our history when my phone rings. I have about five overlapping strings of cheese stretching from the plate to my mouth. Luca has only three, which means for the first time in years, I’m winning. My mouth is full of fries and pepperoni. Emmy sits on the couch in the living room and plans out a fall menu for LuMac’s, mumbling that we’re going to choke to death, but she’s got a little smile on her face.
When I first got there, Emmy gulped me into her arms and held me for what seemed like hours, so I know Luca must’ve filled her in on everything that’s happened and what’s going on between Eva and me. It felt so damn good to prop my chin on her shoulder, I let her hug me for as long as she wanted.
“You know I love you to pieces,” she whispered in my ear. “And I love Eva to pieces, but I worry about you both. Put the two of you together and double the worry. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I could only nod against her shoulder. We didn’t say anything about Maggie. What was there to say?
Turns out, Emmy refused to feed me a meal consisting solely of pizza fries, so she made roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans, which was a little slice of freaking heaven after two days of vending-machine food and LuMac’s doughnuts. But she’s nothing if not a total softy, so she cooked me up a batch of pizza fries too. Now it’s nine o’clock at night, my stomach is close to popping from the home-cooked meal, and I’m stuffing fried potatoes covered in cheese and processed meat into my mouth in Luca’s kitchen.
And I love every minute of it. Because I’m laughing and Luca’s laughing, and I think he and Emmy both knew I needed this.
My phone trills in my bag, and Luca points a finger at me that says, Don’t you dare answer that.
I ignore him, chewing rapidly and, unfortunately, breaking my victorious strands of cheese. Grabbing a napkin, I wipe my face while I dig my phone out of my bag’s depths. Only one person would be calling me right now, and I say a few silent prayers to the gods that she’s not stranded at Ruby’s or some guy’s apartment a town away.
But it’s not Mom.
It’s Eva, and the second I see her name, a little flare of happiness ignites in my stomach, despite all the food in there right now.
“Hey,” I say after I swipe my finger over the screen. “I thought you were at work.”
Nothing for a split second, but I think I hear her sniffle or something.
“Eva?”
“Yeah. Hey.”
Her words flow out on an exhale, and her voice sounds small. Small and tired and scared. Immediately, my hackles are up, and I’m out of my chair and walking toward the front door.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Are you okay?”
“What’s going on?” Luca’s out of his seat too, following me. I shake my head at him and hold up my forefinger.
“Um,” Eva says, her voice shaking. “I’m . . . I’m at the hospital.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m okay. Just a bump on my head, but—?”
“Just a bump on your head? What the hell happened?”
Luca disappears from my view, and I hear him call for Emmy. On the phone, Eva doesn’t answer me, but I hear her labored breathing and some beeping in the background.
Hospital noises.
“Grace, please come. I’m so sorry, but please come. They won’t let me leave and it’s too . . .” She takes a deep breath before going on. “I can’t be here alone. I can’t breathe. They’re about to call Emmy, but I had to call you first—?”