“Sure,” I said. “No, wait. Don’t.” Then I thought of Kendall’s slumping shoulders at the beach, the way she’d said You’ve got your king. “Then again, yes. If you could casually mention something . . .”
“Done,” said Camden. “Kendall’s great. He shouldn’t leave her confused.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t want to hang up. It was snug and perfect under the covers, and Camden’s voice against my ear felt so very much mine. “What part of Time Enough did you get up to today?”
“Bram and Azor just got cast as extras in a gangster movie.”
“Oh, that’s a great scene. Will you read it to me?”
I could almost hear him smile on his end of the phone.
“Our phone calls keep getting weirder,” he said.
“Not weirder,” I said. “Better.”
He began to read.
I woke up late the next morning, after Mom had already left for work. On the kitchen counter was a shopping list for later, and instructions that I’d find Dani’s camp lunch and snacks in the fridge. I could hear Dani’s cartoons on the TV in the family room. Richard sat at the table, reading the paper with his coffee cup pressed to his chest like something precious.
He looked up at me with red eyes rimmed with dark circles. He wasn’t sleeping again. There was probably a blanket and pillow on the couch. So much for Mom’s bed-sharing promises.
“She told you about Eliza,” I said. Richard nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about. You did the right thing, by getting it back on the shelf. I get why you didn’t want me to know.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“But I told your mother about letting you go to the lake.”
“What? Why?”
“I had to. She guessed it and asked me point-blank. She’s my wife, Ari, I’m not going to lie to her. Especially not these days, when everything’s already so . . . difficult.”
I sank down onto a chair.
“I put it all on myself,” said Richard. “I explained how I urged you to go. So she’s mad at both of us, if that’s any consolation. But it means I can’t fight for you on this convention thing.”
I stared at him. He couldn’t look me in the eye.
“It’s a moot point anyway, with her training session—” he began.
“Yes,” I cut him off. “Mom gave me the same official line. You don’t need to repeat it.”
I never acted this way toward Richard. I never huffed or hissed or pouted. He looked genuinely hurt.
“Ari, this stuff is not easy for me,” he said, rubbing his eyebrow. “I try not to get between you and your mother. I don’t have a right. But I see things that should have been dealt with a long time ago, before your depression, and they’re still not dealt with, and it scares me.”
It scares me, too, I wanted to say. And also, What things?
“Thanks for sharing,” was all I did say, avoiding his glance. This was too much, too much when I was already running so late I didn’t have time to eat breakfast and I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and Camden’s voice reading Time Enough still echoed in my ear. I grabbed the car keys and shouted down to Dani. “We’re leaving in two minutes! Your shoes had better be on!”
“Ari?” asked Richard, turning my name into an open-ended question.
I grabbed Dani’s lunch and snack from the fridge, stuffed them in Dani’s backpack and zipped it up, then grabbed my bag.
“See you at the store,” I snapped, rushing to the foyer to find Dani struggling with her shoes. I bent down and shoved one on, then the other, then opened the door for her. All without looking her in the eye. Miraculously, she followed.
We were both quiet in the car on the way to camp. Now that I’d given myself permission to resent my sister, she seemed suddenly much older, more restrained. I kept waiting for her to ask about what she saw at the store, or to tell me I’d been a big fat meanie last night. I wanted her to. I wasn’t sure what it would mean if she didn’t.
She didn’t.
When we arrived at the rec center and got out of the car, I slowed my pace out of habit so Dani could grab my hand. She didn’t grab it right away, but waited a few more steps than usual. Because I couldn’t help it, I gave her fingers a squeeze.
Before Dani could squeeze back, she saw her counselor and let go, running to her. She wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist. I’d never seen her so happy to be at camp.
“Mikayla!” Dani shouted.
“Hey, pixie,” said Mikayla, who seemed genuinely glad to see her. She looked up and smiled at me.
That was when an idea dawned.
“Mikayla,” I said. “Are you by any chance free next Saturday?”
18
There was an episode of Silver Arrow where Atticus Marr got a severe case of hypersickness. The crew had to tie him to a chair on the bridge because he was speaking in nonsense words. As Azor took over the captain’s seat, leading Satina and Bram as they steered through an asteroid field, Marr kept yelling things like “Shrimp!” and “Toaster in the horse manure!” It was one of my favorite episodes when I was a kid, because it made my mom laugh.