Gael turned around and headed back to the car. He needed to do something instead of just sitting around and moping. He opened the car and clicked the garage door opener.
The garage was still full of his dad’s things. A shelf of ceramic pots from the time his dad had decided to take a pottery class. Tools that his mom used more than he did. An old jacket from college, which he only used for mowing the lawn. A tennis ball hung perfectly so his dad’s Subaru would fit just right, which was no longer necessary with his mom’s little smart car. It was like this part of the house simply hadn’t been informed of the news.
Gael headed to the back and grabbed the rake, then walked to the front yard and began to tackle the leaves.
It had always been his dad’s job, raking the leaves. Gael remembered the one time his mom had decided that their chore division was too “gendered” and had taken it over. It wasn’t three days before she came into the house, handed his dad the rake, and said: “If traditional gender roles mean I never have to rake leaves again, I’ll take it.” His dad had just laughed and kissed her on the cheek, before taking the rake and finishing the backyard.
He probably should have done this sooner, Gael thought, as he gathered the leaves into a big pile, his arms beginning to ache in a way that felt good. He probably shouldn’t have been so obsessed with his own drama and been there a little bit more for his mom.
He was about halfway done when Sammy came outside.
She put a hand on her hip. He stopped, planting the rake in the ground like the bald guy from that famous painting.
Sammy smiled, surveying the work. “Nice raking.”
Gael shrugged. “I thought I might as well do something with my wide open afternoons, besides driving you and Piper nuts.”
Sammy laughed. “Well, speaking of, Piper sent me out here to inform you, in no uncertain terms, that she’s still very mad at you.”
Gael sighed. Even though he’d apologized, he knew he’d hurt Piper. But he didn’t know exactly what to do. It was the kind of hurt that he couldn’t fix. Because she might be mad at him right now, but she was really mad at the words he’d said, and those words were the truth. No apology would change that.
“What happened?” Sammy asked. “It’s not really like Piper to be mad at people.”
“I yelled at her a little bit,” he said, embarrassed. “I mean, not really at her, but I yelled anyway. She’s somehow got the idea in her head that my parents are going to get back together, and neither of them are exactly disabusing her of that notion.”
Sammy let her arms fall to her sides. “That sucks,” she said. “My parents split up when I was about Piper’s age. It’s hard to grasp, for sure.”
Gael had an overwhelming urge to put his arms around her, hold her tight, but he pushed the thought away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know that.”
Sammy kicked a leaf back that had been blown out of his neat pile. “It’s been awhile. I’ve processed it. I just know how hard it is, especially when you’re young.”
Gael set the rake down and sat in the perfect patch of grass he’d just cleared. “Sit down for a second,” he said casually, thinking how easy it was to just be himself around her. “Ditch your babysitting duties.”
Sammy raised an eyebrow. “I take babysitting duty very seriously, as I’m sure you know.” But then she smiled and sat down across from him.
Gael picked up a leaf and started ripping it into bits. Then he sat back and stretched.
“Why did your parents split up?” he asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
She shrugged, grabbed a handful of leaves, and tossed them up. They spun around as they fell back down. Sammy tucked her hair behind her ears and spread out her fingers in the grass. “I don’t even know,” she said. “They just did.”
Gael looked up at the sky, and his dad’s motto accosted him, like it often did on a bright sunny day—“If God isn’t a Tar Heel, why is the sky Carolina blue?” He pushed his dad’s chipper voice out of his head. Then he looked back at Sammy. She was wearing a black jumper and a striped top underneath, and her short hair was pulled up into a knot like some kind of chic French ballet dancer. He imagined her twirling around in the raked leaves, kicking them up and turning it all messy again.
He decided in that moment that he trusted her with this. “I think my dad cheated on my mom,” he said.
Sammy sat up straight and adjusted her glasses. “Really?”
“You’re surprised?” he asked.
“Why do you think that? Your dad doesn’t seem like that kind of guy at all.”
Gael shrugged, but her reaction weakened his resolve. She didn’t have to look so shocked. It wasn’t that crazy of an idea. Sure, he’d always thought of his dad as a generally nice guy, but nice people did shitty things all the time. Look at Anika and Mason.
“There has to be some reason. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Sammy looked down at her hands. “There doesn’t always have to be a big groundbreaking reason,” she said. “Sometimes it’s just a bunch of little reasons.”