by Kris Ripper
“Yeah, because that would be super hot for him, you just doing it because you felt like you had to.”
“Worked for Caldecott. Was he really shitty in the sack? Logan asked me the other day, but I feel like I can’t give an unbiased report. I assume your experience must have been better than mine.”
Lisa shook her head. “I actually thought, you know, older man, he’d be so much better, but he was just an older version of a teenage boy, out for his own pleasure, kind of like mine was an afterthought. You did not choose well if you were trying to enjoy it.”
“I wasn’t. Trying to enjoy it. I was just trying to figure out if everyone else was completely batshit to be interested, and it turned out, they were. Anyway, how’s Emery? He’s got to be good in bed. I mean, look at him.”
“You look at Emery?”
“Hey, just because I don’t want to have sex with people doesn’t mean I can’t tell when they’re hot. Anyway, you’ve heard my story, now show me yours.”
“We haven’t had sex.”
Frankie’s eyes widened. “No shit?”
“Yeah, it’s weird. He, uh, said he wants to be intimate, but he doesn’t—like, that doesn’t have to mean sex.”
“Wait. You’re sure he’s not ace?”
Lisa thought about the bondage equipment and the picture of the man who held onto Emery’s forearm and made his face go soft. “I’m sure. I thought he was, y’know, kind of biding his time, figuring if he was patient, eventually he’d get me into bed. But I don’t know. He seems to actually … I think he likes me.”
“Oh shit, Lisa, yeah, no, we already knew that.” Frankie laughed. “Oh my god, you and me. We’re so fucked up. Logan says the same shit and I shut him down. Ha. Plus, fucking look at Emery. If he wanted to get laid, I feel like that would not be a problem. Of course he likes you.”
“I’m not sure anyone ever really thought I was likable. Before now, I mean. I knew I could put on a short skirt and makeup and do my hair, and then they’d all look at me, but I’m not sure any of my friends, any of my boyfriends, actually liked me. You know?”
“You were a bitch. But that wasn’t your biggest sin. You were untouchable, like nothing rattled you, no one could hurt you. So yeah, they wanted to be around you, but no one can relate to the girl who never seems to have a bad day, Lisa.”
“Is that why you like me now? Because I have bad days?”
Frankie carefully put her coffee back on the ledge of the utility sink. “Who the fuck said I liked you now? Get your ass over here and help me move this shit.”
Derrie alchemy. Lisa’d never been insulted, cursed at, or ordered around so much in her entire life. When she and Frankie finally emerged from the garage after hunting down five boxes Frankie admitted were probably only half of her stuff, Lisa realized she’d also never felt so strongly that she belonged.
53
Emery
91 days since meeting Lisa
Escorting Lisa to Carey and Alice’s was fun. Emery ran around the car to open her door for her and bowed over his arm.
She grinned. “You’re kind of a goof.”
“Should I … apologize?”
“Nope. I don’t think everyone gets to see your great big goofball side, so it makes me feel special.”
He straightened, caught in a moment of surprise. “Oh. Actually, that might be true.”
“I like it, so you better not stop.” Lisa brushed down the front of her clothes. “I look okay, right?”
“You want me to answer that objectively?” He pretended to regard her outfit. “I pronounce you officially ‘looking okay.’ Maybe just slightly better than ‘okay.’”
“Just slightly?” She reached for his arm, hooking hers into it. “I know I basically bought all the same clothes I usually wear, but it feels different.”
“Because now it’s intentional.” They walked up the driveway, passing Singer’s crossover. “I think intentional looks good on you, by the way.”
“Objectively?”
“Oh yeah.”
He knocked twice before walking into the house. “Hello?”
“Hey, lovebirds!” Alice kissed his cheek, then Lisa’s. “Party will be relocating to the living room when everyone gets the hell out of my kitchen.”
“Sorry!” Jake called. “C’mon, Miles. Aunt Lisa’s here.”
Singer followed on Jake’s heels, but his expression was tense. “I have to tell you something, Lisa. I spoke to Dad tonight.”
“You did?” She grabbed Miles when he held out his arms. “Whoa, far out, Singer.”
“There’s— There’s news. I have to tell you something.” He took a deep breath.
Emery moved closer, hoping she’d understand his nearness was in the spirit of I’m here if you need me, not I’ll rush in and take care of everything.
“I don’t even know how to say this, but it seems like … they’re getting a divorce. Mother and Dad.”
Lisa burst out laughing, then quickly covered her mouth. “Sorry! I thought that was a joke!”
“Why would I make a joke about our parents getting divorced?”
“I don’t know, but it’s kind of … it’s not a little bit funny?” She giggled, which made Miles giggle.
“How is it funny?” Singer asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Well, they’ve been unhappy for years, Singer. It’s not a shock that they’re finally breaking up.”
“That’s what I said,” Jake mumbled. Singer spared a withering glance for him, but he only shrugged.
“I fail to see how our parents getting a divorce makes sense at all. So they’re just going to start over as single people? They’re going to date? They’ve been living together for thirty-five years, and what, they’re just giving up?”
Lisa sat down, Miles in her lap, and picked up a stuffed elephant for him. “Giving up what? Being stuck together because they’re afraid of the unknown? Jeez, Singer. I thought I was kind of unfair to them, but that’s harsh.”
“I didn’t mean— That wasn’t—” Singer frowned. “You think they were that unhappy?”
Emery had barely interacted with the Thurman elders at all, but even in a few exchanges here and there, “unhappy” was in the top five words he would have used to describe them. He carefully kept his mouth shut.
“How unhappy do you have to be to get divorced? Plus, you were the one who said that their plans didn’t live up to their dreams. I just think thirty-five years is long enough to earn the right to make a choice about whether they want to stay married without everyone judging them.” She made the elephant poke Miles in the belly until he laughed.
“I’m not judging them. I’m just a little shocked.” He shook his head. “I’m going to make sure no one needs help in the kitchen.”
Lisa waited until he was gone to whisper, “I know I’m a little bit crazy right now, but how can he possibly be surprised?”
“I know,” Jake whispered back.
Emery stretched out on the floor and pulled out his phone, activating the camera so he could get some pictures of the elephant-poking game. Pictures at Alice’s—wherever she happened to be living at the time—always had the advantage of good artwork on the walls in the background. He twisted in order to frame Lisa to the side of an angular painting of the Williamsburg Bridge, the cool grays and blues of the painting complimenting her new mahogany top.
Miles, of course, was in a red-and-blue striped shirt that didn’t really go with anything, but Emery decided he liked the effect of garish kids’ clothes for casual family pictures. Or even portraits. You could always tell when a kid had been dressed in stiff formal clothes against their will.
“I don’t know what his deal is.” Jake glanced toward the kitchen. “But it really wigs him out that your folks are breaking up.”
“He’s such a
traditionalist sometimes.” She smiled for the camera. Or maybe for Emery. “By the way, not that we’re getting married, but I so don’t believe in ‘till death do us part.’ Nope. ‘Until we get sick of each other do us part,’ maybe.”
He lowered the phone. “Not quite as musical, but I agree. We live in a world that changes so fast we can barely keep up, and our lifespans are constantly extending. Anyone who vows until death today doesn’t even know how long that is.”
“Aw, you guys.” Jake leaned back against the diaper bag and didn’t quite look at them. “I think it’s kind of romantic. The vow itself, I mean. But I wouldn’t stick with it if it was making me miserable.”
“So then what’s the point?” Lisa asked.
“I don’t know. I think there’s something powerful about looking at another person and telling them you’ll spend the rest of your life with them. Even if you have no idea how long that will be, or what will change in the rest of the world. Like you’re saying that no matter what, the two of you will weather it together.”
Emery met Lisa’s gaze, confirming that however potent that dream might be, neither one of them was counting on it. Or even interested in it.
She reached out to mess with Jake’s hair. “That’s sweet. And you’re kind of a sap.”
“Don’t tell my cousins.”
Emery shook his head. “For the record, I can’t keep secrets from Alice, so if she asks about your sappiness, I’ll have to tell her.”
Jake laughed. “Yeah, okay, Emery. But you don’t keep, like, any secrets from Alice?” He glanced at Lisa, then back. “Like, any?”
He flushed and raised his camera as a shield. “Get your head out of the gutter, California.”
“Ha ha ha, awesome. I just made both of you blush. My work here is done.” Jake stood, stretching, and dropped a kiss on the top of Miles’s head. “I’ll be right back.”
Then it was just the two of them and the kid.
“I, uh, don’t tell Alice everything.”
“You trying to say there’s something to tell?”
He looked up. “You trying to say there isn’t?”
Miles squawked, demanding the elephant come back to life. Apparently something had distracted Lisa from her game.
Emery smiled. She smiled back.
“I’m pretty good at secrets, but I don’t think this is one.” She paused for an elephant-related adventure up Miles’s back to the top of his head, then sliding down the front of his body as he grabbed for it. “So, Em. How are you?”
He’d asked her that in this room before. The gleam in her eye made it clear she remembered. “Oh, fine. You?”
“So good. Like tonight? Not in general, necessarily. But tonight is really good. Even if moving is a total nightmare, even if I’m sleeping on Singer’s couch for years, as long as there are nights like this one I think I’ll be okay.”
Which was amazing, and he was happy for her, even if none of it directly had to do with him. And that was the rub: he didn’t like the feeling that his happiness was far more directly influenced by Lisa than hers was by him.
But only a coward would keep that a secret.
“I’d like to revise my answer.”
She grinned.
“I’m doing really well. I have a job that I like, and a boss who’s mostly stopped picking on me, and Carey has basically tricked the Derries into treating me like I’m part of the family, which has been hilarious to watch.” He reached out to brush his knuckles against her knee. “And there’s this phenomenal, astoundingly brave woman in my life, who seems to like me a little.”
“A lot,” she whispered.
He held his fingers to his ear as if getting a message in an earpiece. “Excuse me, I’m informed that in fact she likes me a lot. So that’s … scary and thrilling and I haven’t looked forward to the future like this ever. It used to be I looked forward because where I was in the present was so bad. But I’m really good right now, and I’m still excited for whatever comes next.”
It was all so silly and foolish when spelled out like that. But Lisa leaned up, and he met her in the middle for a kiss.
“Good,” she said. That was it. And it was so much more than enough.
Jake returned, dinner was delivered to the coffee table, and Miles had to be restrained from shoving everything in his mouth at once. When Emery sat close beside Lisa he wasn’t worried that she would misinterpret it as anything but what it was: closeness for closeness’ sake. Because each of them felt good when beside the other.
54
Lisa
26 days since finding grace
It was good to be back in Saul’s office again. This was the third session since her stint in farmland, and the first time she’d had the courage to bring up the thing where she maybe might be hearing voices.
“Did you actually think Abigail was there with you, in the field?”
Lisa pushed back in the little sofa and studied all of Saul’s degrees and diplomas, the straight lines and satisfying rectangle shapes of them on the wall. “No? No. I mean, only after I’d started thinking I was going crazy. But no, it was a voice in my head—not a voice like I thought someone was talking to me, just my own head playing devil’s advocate. I think.”
“Sounds pretty normal to me,” Saul said. “Now, if you start seeing Abigail or anyone else, or if the voices sound less like you and more like auditory hallucinations, call me. Anytime, day or night, and tell the service to get ahold of me.”
“Uh, okay.”
“Lisa?”
“Hmm?”
He waited until she looked at him. “I’m serious. If anything like that happens, I need you to call me so we can sort it out. Even if you’re not sure what’s going on. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Good. So, your brother’s boyfriend’s mom is sitting in my waiting room?”
She kind of laughed. “I think she’s basically adopted me. I’m just glad it’s not my mom.”
“See, now that sounds like a support network,” Saul said. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”
“Yeah, I guess I … not like I woke up one day and got happy, or something. But things seem a little bit better right now.”
Saul shut his notebook and put it aside. “That’s excellent. I don’t want to rain on your parade, but you know this is just the start, right? And that not all of it’s going to be easy. Getting your confidence back, fitting in your skin, now that you’re figuring out who you are—not easy paths, Lisa.”
“I think I know that.” She thought, again, about waking up on that bus stop bench. “It’s not that I think everything’s great. It’s more—I guess I decided it’s worth trying for.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Next time you can tell me more about the photographer.”
She flushed, momentarily confused. But then he grinned, gently teasing, and she realized it was okay. “Shut up.”
Saul’s grin widened. “I’ll see you next week. Call if you need to.”
“Got it.”
Cathy was waiting with an iced coffee drink for her and no invasive questions.
“Thanks for driving me again.” It was still hard to work out how she should handle all this attention from Jake’s family.
“Anytime.”
This is where, if this was that movie with the transformative ending, Cathy would say, “I always wanted a daughter,” and we’d hug.
Instead, they got in the car. And Cathy said, “Now. What are we gonna do about the boys?”
So this is what it’s like to be on the inside. This is why they’re all so crazy. And also, why they’re all so wonderful.
“We have a couple of irons in the fire, Lisa, and we’ll need your help for most of them.”
“I’ll definitely help if I can.” Not that she knew what that
meant.
“Oh, I’m counting on it. Let me fill you in.”
The Derries were terrifying when they thought they knew what was best for you. Lisa had heard the stories before, but now she was privy to the inner workings, and it felt good. A support network, yeah. She still didn’t know how to help with the plot to fix Singer and Jake, but she was glad there was one.
Now that she was part of the circus, she really didn’t want to give it up.
55
Singer
109 days with Miles
It was a conspiracy. Clearly. Of massive, impossible proportions.
“Jake’s mom and dad picked Miles up ten minutes ago,” Lisa said.
“But didn’t Mother say they’d be right back with more boxes? How can they be going to dinner when the whole point of them coming up this weekend was to clear stuff out of the house?”
Frankie, sitting on one of the counters and swinging her feet into the cabinets below, laughed. “Yeah, Lisa and I lied our asses off, and they’re going, too. We said you guys were hosting a couples date with your friends from the city.” She grinned. “We meant your friend from work and his wife, but if they took it to mean you guys are like raunchy gay swingers—hey, bonus.”
Singer cringed and rubbed his eyes hard. Ow, headache. “Frances—”
“Don’t fucking Frances me, buddy. This is happening. You should go track down loverboy, but Lisa and I gotta fight the good fight over at Cathy and Joe’s.”
“And you’re saying my parents are there? At Cathy’s house?” He appealed to Lisa, who smiled.
Frankie jumped down. “Yeah, you owe us. Love you.” Where other people might hug, Frankie punched.
“You too.” Singer rubbed his arm. Maybe he should ask her to punch a little harder. Might distract him from the headache.
Lisa waved. “Good luck.”
An epic plot by their nearest and dearest to … what? Fix everything. One evening wasn’t going to fix everything. It couldn’t.
Carey once told him that everything important was down to a series of small decisions. Maybe that was overly simplistic, but maybe it was the only thing to do.