Most people nod solemnly, relieved to have the awkward social obligation of asking out of the way. Ellie is quiet, so I glance over at her. She’s narrowing her eyes. I can hardly see past her heavy eyelashes.
“Jonah.” She slows her pace considerably, and I do, too. “How is your mom really?”
We both stop. We’re standing on the sidewalk outside the park. I cross my arms. I open my mouth to say fine again, more convincingly this time. But saying it again seems like even more of a lie. Ellie’s dark eyes study me, waiting, and I finally confess. “Not good. At all.”
I start walking again, making a getaway from those four words. I broke the barrier between our family and the outside world. Exposed us. Ellie catches up, right beside me.
“Like how not good?” Her whole face is soft. Being pitied makes me feel pitiful.
“Like barely gets out of bed, okay?” My voice sounds mean even though I would never intentionally snap at her. “Sorry. It’s bad. It’s . . . I don’t know.”
I expect her to ask why the hell I haven’t gotten my mom some help. I expect her to judge the entire way I’ve handled this situation as harshly as I judge myself for it.
Instead, she whispers, “I knew it.”
She whispers this to herself, like how you say dammit under your breath after you drop something.
“I’m so sorry, Jonah,” Ellie says. “Maybe it’s none of my business. I’ve just . . . had this feeling about it.”
“God, don’t apologize.” I try to laugh, but it sounds bitter. Because I am. “We’ve been trying to give my mom some time—Naomi and Silas and me. But they go off to school at the end of August, and I can’t take care of the three kids on my own. Silas is talking about putting college off for a year. I don’t want him to, but I don’t know what else to do.”
We walk a few slow steps, and I’m conflicted. As relieved as I am to let all this out, I feel like I’m doing something behind my family’s back.
“Hey, you two!” Mrs. Albrecht calls from across the street as Edgar pauses to sniff at the fire hydrant. Ellie and I both wave, but my face burns. It’s embarrassing the way that someone walking in on you in the bathroom is embarrassing. Caught in a private moment.
By the time we’re out of earshot, Ellie and I are standing at the corner where we have to go different directions.
“You do realize that, after everything with Diego, we know a lot about depression—medication, therapy, listening to one another, and talking.” Her eyebrows are scrunched together, but I can’t tell if she’s confused or hurt. Or both. “Why haven’t you told my dad?”
“Because . . . because it’s only been seven months. Because, in a weird way, it feels like her business, not mine. I don’t want to embarrass her. There are a lot of reasons, I guess.”
She nods slowly. “Fair enough. What can I do?”
“Nothing.” Just like that, I snap shut. It’s an instinct, after seven months. “I mean, thanks, but we’re fine.”
Now is the time to go our separate ways. But neither of us moves. Ellie’s looking up at me, waiting. She’s smoking me out with silence. If I go much longer without saying anything, it will become painfully awkward instead of just a little awkward. It’d be easy enough to stammer Okay, see you later and walk away, but my mouth and legs won’t cooperate.
“Actually,” I say, before I even mean to, “I keep chickening out of talking to your dad. I know my mom stopped doing the books for the restaurant after everything happened, but if your dad asked for her help again, I think she’d like that. Do you think you could suggest that?”
Ellie nods like it’s totally normal to ask your friend to ask her dad if he can ask your mom for accounting help. “Of course. I’ll bring it up with him subtly. Maybe that’ll sort of open the door between my dad and your mom. And, Jonah, please tell me if I can babysit or pick up some groceries or I don’t know what. Anything. I’d really like to help, if I can. And if you ever need to talk, really . . .”
“Thanks. We’re actually doing pretty well most days. It’s after Naomi and Silas leave that freaks me out. But Vivi keeps saying she might actually persuade her mom to stay in Verona Cove longer, so she might be around to help, too.”
Ellie smiles. “That would be great.”
“And thanks for coming up with ideas for the restaurant.” We’re inching apart now.
“It was fun. Think them over when you have a chance. I already showed them to my dad. We can talk about it on Thursday if you want. See ya!”
She’s a few steps away when I call out, “What’s happening Thursday?”
“Nothing. It’s just our next overlapping shift.”
I turn back as we walk away, and she does the same, waving at me. Maybe I should feel guilty for outing my mom without even running it by Naomi or Silas, but I don’t. I feel like we’ve added another person to our team. Or maybe just realized that there was someone else there all along.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN