“Why?”
She’s laid out the dress on my bed with a pair of tights. I eye it like there might be a firecracker hiding underneath.
“Because Saul is cooking us dinner tonight and we should look nice for it.” She kisses the top of my head before she leaves my room.
I sit on the end of my bed for a while, staring at the dress and feeling like something big is about to change.
Lionel opens the door to their house without looking up, his face covered by a thick book.
Mom smiles when he doesn’t say anything and lightly clears her throat. “Hello, Lionel.”
“Hi,” he mumbles, and steps aside, his freckled hand wrapped around the book like a claw. I can’t read the title.
I don’t say hi to him as we pass. Our parents have been dating for almost two years now, and he’s not always very nice to me. Mostly he doesn’t say a whole lot. He’s always reading, and he never wants to talk about the books, like he thinks I’m too dumb to understand them. He’s only a year older than me.
Saul walks out from the kitchen. There’s a dish towel hanging from his belt loop and flour on his nose. He kisses my mom on the lips and it still makes me feel funny, but not as much as the first time I saw it.
He gives me a big hug like every time I see him, but I think it lasts longer this time. Saul is always nice, and he doesn’t talk to me like other grown-ups—when he asks me questions, I feel like he really wants to know the answer. And he always asks lots of questions. Not like Lionel.
“You have flour on your nose,” I say when we pull away.
“You’re a true friend, Suzette.” He gives Mom a fake frown. “Your mother didn’t even tell me.”
“Maybe I thought it was cute,” she says, and I giggle as he makes a big show of wiping at his nose.
From behind his book, Lionel’s muffled voice says, “When’s dinner? I’m starving.”
Saul made lasagna and, like always, he serves Mom and me first before he moves over to Lionel.
“More, please,” Lionel says, his head bowed. He’s looking down at his lap, not even trying to hide the book sitting there.
Saul sighs. He scoops more lasagna onto Lionel’s plate. “Son, put that away for now.”
“Why? I can hear everything you’re saying.”
Saul gently puts a hand on his shoulder. “We’re trying to have a nice dinner, and it’s rude to read at the table when we have guests.”
Lionel sighs now, and I know the look in his eyes. It’s the same feeling I had when Mom told me to wear a nice dress. Why is everything so special all of a sudden? He slams the book closed, stabs his fork into his pasta, and starts eating without waiting for Saul to finish serving himself.
Mom and Saul keep giving each other looks. They mean something, but I don’t know what. I try to catch Lionel’s eye to see if he notices, but he’s staring down at his plate and hasn’t said a word since he put his book away.
Finally, after Saul has passed around the bread basket for the second time, he taps his water glass with his fork and says, “Kids, Nadine and I have an announcement.”
My heart starts to beat fast. I want to know what he’s going to say, but at the same time, I wish we could skip this part of the night.
Mom gives me a soft smile and looks back and forth between Lionel and me when she says, “We’ve decided to move in together. We’re all going to live in the same house.”
Lionel’s fork falls to his plate with a clang. “So you’re getting married?”
“No, we’re not,” says Saul. “We love each other very much, but we’ve both been married before and… we think it’s best if we focus on one thing at a time.”
“I don’t want to move.” Lionel’s voice is flat. His blue eyes are darker than normal as he glares down at his plate like he wants to throw it against the wall.
“We’re all going to move,” Saul says. “Into a new place—new to all of us. Because we love both of you very much, too, and we want everyone to be happy.”
Mom tilts her head as she looks at me. “What do you think, Suzette?”
I shrug, not quite looking at her or Saul but at a spot between them on the table. “I don’t know. It’s okay, I guess.”
I don’t think it’s the answer she wants, but it’s better than Lionel’s. I’m not lying. It’s not good or bad, just okay. I don’t remember my dad. He died when I was three. And I like Saul, but I don’t know what it’s like to live with anyone besides Mom.
They bring out champagne for them and a bottle of sparkling apple juice for Lionel and me. We clink our glasses together, and I smile to match Mom’s and Saul’s faces. Lionel doesn’t.
He disappears after dinner, and I walk all over the house trying to find him. Mom and Saul are in the kitchen, washing dishes and being lovey-dovey. I don’t want to be in there, but I don’t want to be alone, either.
I find him out in the garage, where Saul builds things from wood. A couple of scary-looking machines with big, sharp blades sit in the corner, which is why we aren’t supposed to be out here alone. But Lionel isn’t standing near them. He’s in front of the table of projects that Saul hasn’t finished. Smaller pieces, like shelves and bookends and some things I don’t know the names of.
“Do you hate us?” I ask in a quiet voice.
Lionel’s back is to me. It takes a long time, but he finally says, “No.”
“Why are you so mad?”
He turns around. “Why aren’t you more mad? Don’t you like it with just you and your mom?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I like it being me and my dad. I don’t like it when things change. The last time they changed, my parents got divorced.”
I don’t know what to say so I stay quiet.
Lionel picks up something from the table. His back is still facing me, so I can’t see what it is. But he’s pulling at it and smacking his hand against it, and then he smacks it against the table, too. Something chips off and falls to the ground.
I look at him with my mouth open, wondering if that was somehow a mistake. But he only hits it against the table harder and harder until large pieces start splintering off, flying into the air.
“What are you doing?” I walk closer to him. But not too close. He’s scaring me now, more than the big machines in the room.
He doesn’t say anything back, and he doesn’t stop until the thing in his hand is in a half dozen pieces. He throws the chunk of wood to the ground with a clatter. I look down and see that it was a lamp. The lightbulb screws in on one side and the part he destroyed looks like a tree, except all the branches are gone now, scattered across the floor.
I put my hand over my mouth. “What did you do?”
He’s breathing hard when he looks at me, his own mouth turned down so far it makes me sad.
The side door to the garage opens, and as soon as Lionel sees his father and my mother, his eyes go wide and wet with worry.