“Of course,” she said softly. “Why do you ask?”
Dani rushed into the kitchen just then. “Ari!” she cried, and wrapped her arms around my waist as if I’d been gone a week. It sort of felt like I’d been gone a week.
Mom stared at us for a moment, then shut her laptop like she was slamming a door. “I’m going to go fold some laundry,” she said, then went downstairs.
“Did you have fun with Mom?” I asked Dani.
“I had to go with her to her stupid gy-con-ologist appointment. I have more fun with you.”
“Gynecologist,” I corrected her.
I watched TV with Dani while the rain beat down against the windows, playing the half kiss over and over in my head. Looking at it from every possible angle, revisiting myself the moment we put our lips on each other. Wondering how something can be so wanted, then take you by dazzling surprise.
Later, when Richard came home with the pizza, Mom chirped, “Let’s all eat together at the table!”
Mom rarely chirped. We rarely ate together at the table. Which meant something bad was about to happen; I could feel it.
If Richard sensed it, too, he didn’t let on. I watched him and Mom, maneuvering around each other in the kitchen, grabbing forks and plates and cans of club soda. At one point, they bumped into each other and Richard said, “Oops! Excuse me,” as if they were two strangers at a buffet.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them touch. How pathetic was that?
Once we were all sitting down and eating, Mom said, “I have some news.”
“Good or bad?” asked Dani.
“All good. Really good.”
“I could use some really good today,” said Richard.
Mom took a deep breath and beamed at us. “I got offered a new job. I didn’t plan to apply for anything, but this opportunity came up. It’s a day shift and it pays more, and I start in two weeks.”
“Honey!” exclaimed Richard. “That’s fantastic!”
“And it’s in White Plains,” added Mom.
“What?” he said, dropping his pizza slice so it landed half on, half off the plate.
It was quiet for a moment. Dani looked back and forth between all of us, trying to figure out why this was a pizza-dropping detail.
“Mom,” I said, “that’s like, ninety minutes away.”
“I know.”
“How can you—”
She held out her hand in that way I hated, hated, hated. “It’s not ideal. But it’s a better job and a promotion, and we need the money.”
“Not ideal?” spit Richard. “You’d be spending three hours in the car every day!”
“It’s a better job, and we need the money,” Mom repeated like a mantra. Then she leveled her gaze at Richard. “It’s really slow at Millie’s. We can’t ignore that fact.”
Richard looked up and away, at something on the wall maybe. His jaw squared, which meant he was gritting his teeth. It was so obvious because he did it so seldomly.
“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, honey,” said Mom. “I’m just laying it straight out.”
“That’s straight all right,” he said.
Mom looked at him guiltily. “I can’t work the night shift anymore,” she said, more softly now. “It’s killing me.”
Richard met her glance and something in him softened, too, but also guiltily. Sometimes it seemed like guilt was the only thread that connected them anymore. Guilt, and its incredibly unromantic relatives: obligation, habit, and regret.
“I understand that, Kate, but honestly. Is this better?”
My mother shrugged. “It has to be,” she said.
“You’ll barely be around. At least now, you’re here in the afternoons. For Dani.” Richard caught my glance. “And Ari, too. This is the last year she’ll be home.”
“Exactly,” said Mom. “There’s a college fund to worry about.”
Ouch. I hadn’t realized how angry this news was making me until that second.
“Great,” I said. “Make up your mind, Mom. Whose fault is it that you have to work so hard? Mine, or Richard’s? Or do we share the blame?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” offered Mom, putting her hand on my arm. “I’m not blaming you for planning to go to college. God, Ari. It’s the opposite! I want you to have your time for new ventures.” She looked at Richard now, her eyes pleading. “But this, right now? This year? Can’t this be my time? It’s not about the money . . .”
Richard gave her a look.
“Okay,” she said. “It’s a little bit about the money. But you know I’ve wanted to work in medicine my whole life. It took me so long to get back on track after things derailed.” Derailed. I knew that meant my father, and me. Maybe Richard and Danielle, too.
“Please, honey,” she continued. “You have the store, and I helped you have that. Now, help me have this.”