by Lizzy Mason
Chapter Fifteen
After a few weeks at The Flakey Pastry, I finally felt like I was getting the hang of making espresso drinks. I could steam milk while brewing shots, making several drinks at a time, and I had a couple of customers who claimed they now liked my shots of espresso better than Will’s. I tried not to gloat.
So maybe it was karma (or maybe I was just getting too cocky) when I turned around too quickly and knocked the metal pitcher of steaming milk to the floor, burning my arm on the steam wand. And then my fingers, when I stupidly tried to push it away without a rag. My skin was red and blistered in seconds.
Will and Cassidy jumped into action. Cassidy took over making my drinks while Will took me into the break room to get cleaned up.
“This happens so often that most of the first aid kit is filled with burn cream,” he said.
He sat me in a chair and started applying cream to my arm. I winced with pain.
“Do you just get used to getting burned?” I asked.
Will laughed. “I haven’t felt my fingertips in a year.”
“Oh, good, something to look forward to.”
“Listen, Cassidy and I can probably close up on our own if you want to leave?” he said. “When do you work next?”
I shook my head. “I think I’m closing on Monday?”
Will squinted. “No, I don’t think so. Cassidy and I work closing on Monday.”
He reached back and grabbed the schedule off the desk behind him. We studied it together. He was right. I was working opening on Monday, and he and Cassidy were closing. In fact, they were working the same shifts all week.
“You and Cassidy recently started working together a lot,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual.
Will nodded, his eyes on the bandage he was placing on my arm.
“And you make the schedule?”
Now he looked at me. “What are you getting at?”
“Why did you and Janine break up?”
He sat back, suddenly suspicious. “Because she was leaving for college. Why?”
“Not for another few weeks,” I pointed out. “Why did you break up now?”
Will didn’t answer.
“I know, it’s none of my business, but if it’s because of a certain blonde who, frankly, isn’t that great of a barista, you don’t have to be worried about asking her out.”
Will’s lips twitched into a smile. “Are you saying Cassidy likes me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course she does. Why haven’t you just asked her out?”
He shook his head sadly. “I can’t be her manager if I’m dating her. Not after Janine. Samir threatened to fire me after she quit.”
“It was that bad?” I asked.
“She knew why I was breaking up with her. We couldn’t work together afterward. And she wouldn’t work with Cassidy, either. And there aren’t enough employees to keep us all on different schedules.”
“So why do you always schedule Cassidy for the worst shifts?”
“Like what?” he said defensively.
“Like closing almost every night. And Sunday opening shifts?” His cheeks flushed so red that I almost expected his glasses to fog. “Oh, it’s deliberate!” I exclaimed.
“Yeah, well, she can’t date someone else if she’s here almost every night and has to work at six a.m. on Sundays, right?”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Wow. You really just said that out loud.”
“I’m horrible, I know,” he said sadly. “She should hate me.”
“No, but you should stop trying to keep her locked away and just deal with the consequences of dating. Even if it means one of you has to quit.” I flashed a sly smile. “Or you have to hide it from Samir.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I know, I know. I’ll talk to her.”
“Just be careful with her, okay?” I said. “Cassidy is as tender as they come. But I am not. If you break her heart, I will kill you.”
Will nodded, his expression solemn. “I promise,” he said. “Now, why don’t you leave early?”
I smiled, not sure if he was getting rid of me because I was being weird and overly protective or so he could be alone with Cassidy. Maybe both.
“Sure, boss,” I said, heading out. “Good luck.”
I pushed the door open and nearly hit Ryan in the back.
“Sorry, Ry!” I said, laughing. But my smile fell when he turned and I saw his face. “What’s up?”
He gestured to a table nearby. His brown eyes were bloodshot, his forehead creased. For a second I worried that something had happened to Connie, his girlfriend. I sat down across from him.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Mike came home from rehab yesterday,” he said, slumping forward. “He called me this morning to invite me to a party.”
My jaw dropped. “He’s having a ‘Welcome Home from Rehab’ party?”
Ryan nodded and pounded his fist into his palm. “What the hell is wrong with him?”
“I don’t suppose this is a dry party,” I said, half to myself.
His lips twisted in disgust. “He asked me to use my brother’s ID to get him some beer and a few bottles of liquor. He wants me to sneak it to him so his mom doesn’t find out.”
I wanted to punch something now, too. Not my palm, though. Mike’s face. I couldn’t believe he had spent so much energy convincing me that he was taking rehab seriously, and I was angry at myself for believing him. I curled my hands into fists under the table so Ryan wouldn’t see.
“What did you say?” I asked carefully.
He leaned back in his chair and exhaled loudly. “I told him I shredded the ID after he almost killed himself driving drunk.”
My jaw dropped. “You did?”
“Of course I did,” he said. “If I hadn’t brought the keg that night, Audrey and Mike wouldn’t have been drinking.”
My heart ached with sympathy. I knew how that guilt felt. “Come on, Ryan, you can’t blame yourself for that.”
“Too late.” He rubbed his hands across his close-cropped hair. “Mike was actually pissed at me for shredding it.”
I shook my head. “He’s digging his own grave,” I said. “And it’s not your job to pull him out. It’s certainly not mine. I learned that the hard way.”
Ryan looked at me, his eyes pleading. “But what do you think I should do?”
I pulled from my memory of what I’d learned the week before at the rehab center. “By covering for him and giving into him, you’re just enabling him. So just tell his mom what he asked you to do,” I said. “And then stop hanging out with him.”
“I can’t do that,” he said. “He’s my best friend.”
“But is he really?” I demanded. I didn’t regret it. I wanted to know.
Ryan was quiet, considering. “I don’t know,” he said. Then he stood, clearly putting an end to our conversation. “Thanks for listening.”
“Be good,” I said. “And don’t go to that party.”
Ryan nodded, but I couldn’t tell what he would do.
Not your problem, I reminded myself. And I left, feeling a little less burned, despite the blisters.
The next day, Mom and I sat in metal folding chairs against the wall in a room with rubber floors. Dad had to work and was missing the spectacle that was Audrey’s third physical therapy appointment. Audrey was taking small, halting, but confident steps with the support of a railing and two physical therapists. The spectacle was Mom, who had her hands clasped in front of her mouth anxiously, with her elbows on her knees so that she was hunched and looked even smaller than normal. She gasped every time Audrey faltered.
Mom was pulled together, as usual, in a freshly laundered and pressed outfit with her hair pulled back. But there were more gray hairs peeking through her dye job than before the ac
cident. She was thinner, too; I could see her collarbones protruding beneath her twinset.
Meanwhile, Audrey, who had also lost a dangerous amount of weight, was sweating under the S.T.A.R. Laboratories sweatshirt I’d loaned her for good luck. But even without the sheen of exertion, her face showed how hard she was working. The doctors had warned her that her muscles had weakened while she was bedridden and that it would take time to regain her strength. They cautioned against doing too much too quickly. But Audrey would push herself anyway. She couldn’t help it.
Audrey stumbled on a step and Mom gasped quietly beside me. Her fingers twitched as she held them against her lips, as though she were just barely holding in the concerned words she was bursting with. I squeezed her knee in support as Audrey’s therapist caught her under the arm that wasn’t in a sling. But Audrey shook it off as she sat down to rest for a minute. She drank some water slowly and then smiled over at us. Her grin was less lopsided now.
When Audrey started back the other direction, she was noticeably weaker. Her legs shook when she supported her weight on her own, and her steps grew less sure. Mom was practically vibrating with nerves. She would have done all this work for Audrey if she could.
I finally let her go to Audrey when her therapist ended the session. I could tell that he was congratulating her on her good work, even though I couldn’t hear the words. He had the same look that all her past coaches and dance teachers had had when they looked at her.
But even though Audrey was smiling, I could see that it was forced. She was barely holding it together, and her fingers were twitching to slap Mom’s hands away from pulling her hair back into a sweaty ponytail. When she looked at me, I rolled my eyes in Mom’s direction. Her plaster smile faltered and a small, real one slipped through.
I walked to them and pulled one of Mom’s arms around my waist. I tried not to compare our weight, knowing I had probably gained as much as she had lost. I was an emotional eater; the proof of how stressful the last six weeks had been was sitting on my stomach. And thighs.
“You tired, Audy?” I asked. “You worked hard.”
She nodded. “Can we go back to my room?”
While Mom talked to Audrey’s physical therapist, I bent down to help her into her wheelchair. “I’ll go out to The Cheesecake Factory while Mom feeds you dinner tonight,” I said. “I’ll bring you back a slice.”
When Audrey laughed, Mom’s head snapped back to look at us. Her eyes brightened when she saw Audrey’s smile. I wished I could convince her to come with me. She could have used a slice of cheesecake, too, but Audrey needed the break from her even more.
As Mom and I pulled around the corner onto our street, Raf drove past. He waved, and we waved back, but I could tell it was half-hearted on both Mom’s and his part.
I headed for my room when I got inside. Mom followed me upstairs.
“Do you have a minute, Harley?” she asked. She was already walking into my room, sitting next to me on the bed. It wasn’t really a question.
I held in the sigh that was my innate response and paused my music.
Recognizing that as an invitation, Mom continued: “I think this conversation is long overdue.” A knot of dread took up residence in my stomach. “I’m concerned about the people, the influences, in your life right now. And the choices you’re making.”
She held up a hand to stave off my interruption, as if she could sense that my mouth was about to open. “What happened to your sister is a wake-up call for your father and me, and we think we’ve been too lax with the rules in this house. We never should have let you go to the party at Cassidy’s house without talking to her parents and making sure they were home.”
They were pretty strict, as far as I was concerned, but she wasn’t wrong that she should have checked. I’d been banking on the fact that she wouldn’t because she knew Cassidy so well.
“But you should have told us,” she said. “And you never should have brought your sister.”
I wanted to argue that Audrey could have told her about the lack of chaperones, too, but I wanted to focus on who she thought I was seeing who was a bad influence. Aside from Cassidy and Ryan, I had barely even spoken to my friends. Or Mike’s friends.
“But I broke up with Mike,” I said. “I haven’t even seen him since he got back from rehab.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m not talking about Mike.”
And finally I realized who she meant.
“You’ve been talking to Mrs. Juarez, haven’t you?” I said. I could feel the scowl on my face.
“Yes,” she said. “And she told me that you and Rafael have been spending a lot more time together than I realized. Apparently, he actually talks to his mother.”
I knew that, but it didn’t make it any less cute that he had told his mom about me. I tried not to smile, though. Mom was clearly not in the mood.
“She told me about Rafael’s rehab and how he had to be cut off from his friends from his old life,” she continued.
Raf had told me about his friends and they sounded a lot like my friends. We weren’t good kids, but we weren’t bad either. We threw parties; we snuck out of our houses; we drank and smoked the occasional cigarette, sometimes weed. But we also made curfew, made Honor Roll, made breakfast for our moms on Mother’s Day.
“And you want me to do the same,” I said.
She seemed to consider her next words carefully. “I want you to cut yourself off from anyone who is a bad influence on you. That’s all.”
I felt myself about to tip over the edge into fury. I tried to reel myself back in. “That’s all?” I said. I could hear the tiny tremor in my voice. “What you’re really asking me to do is cut ties with Raf, who, as you just pointed out, just lost all of the friends he’s ever had.”
“Rafael is an alcoholic and a drug addict, Harley,” Mom said, her voice now teeming with anger. “I don’t see how he’s good for you. Especially not now, with all you went through with Mike. After all we’ve been through. I have to be sure you’re making the right choices here.”
And I just snapped like a brittle twig under a heavy boot. I could almost hear it.
“Mom, Raf is trying to get his life together!” I yelled. “Can you at least give him a chance to do that before you start deciding what kind of person he is? At least he’s not cheating on me with my sister like my last boyfriend did!”
Mom looked like I had slapped her. And I guess I sort of had. I’d slapped her with the news that her baby daughter wasn’t perfect. And that I’d failed to protect her.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered.
But my throat had closed up, burning with the tears that I was trying not to cry. I shook my head instead.
“Oh, baby duck, come here,” Mom said, gathering me into her arms. We were the same height, but I had at least forty pounds on her. And yet she pulled me close and held me, rocking me like I was in her lap.
“I’m so sorry that happened,” she whispered, even though I could hear her rage. “You didn’t deserve that.”
I wept loudly and wetly against her shoulder, ruining her silk blouse. She didn’t stop me. I cried for Audrey and what she’d done to me. I cried for what I’d done to her. Because after years of feeling less important than nearly anything else in my life, Audrey had done something she knew would get my attention. And it ended up hurting her so much worse than it would ever hurt me.
When my breathing grew steadier and my tears had slowed, Mom wiped my cheeks and looked me in the eye.
“What happened?” she asked. I could tell that she was trying really hard to keep it together, and I had to give her a lot of credit for staying so calm.
So I told her. Everything. By the end, I was crying again. “I’m sorry,” I said, sobbing. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to think of Audrey like that.”
Mom shook her head
. “No, baby, no,” she said. “You shouldn’t have had to carry this alone for all this time.”
“It’s so humiliating,” I said. “And I’m so angry.”
“I’m angry, too. I just can’t imagine what would have made your sister do that to you.” Mom’s nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. “But it doesn’t change the way I think of Audrey. She made a mistake.”
Anger rose in my chest again, but this time it felt good, or at least justified. “Seriously? You’re not forgiving Raf for his mistakes, and you’ve clearly been blaming me for what happened to Audrey, but you can just let it go that Audrey made out with my boyfriend?”
Mom stiffened. She knew I was right. She nodded rigidly. “You make a good point,” she said. “But I nearly lost one of my daughters already, and I can’t stop worrying that the same thing will happen to you.”
I took a deep breath before I spoke, to avoid saying something I would regret. “I might see where you’re coming from,” I said steadily. “But I need you to trust me.”
Her lips pulled into a straight line, but she nodded. “I do trust you. And I’m sorry if you feel that I’ve been blaming you for what happened to your sister. I never liked Mike, and it doesn’t shock me at all that this happened to him. I just wish that Audrey hadn’t gotten caught up in his vortex of destruction.”
A hot tear slid down my cheek. “But isn’t that my fault?” I whispered. “That she ever even met him?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mom said. “You can’t blame yourself. But after what you’ve told me, I have to at least lay some of the blame on your sister.” She sighed heavily. “Are you going to tell Audrey what she did?”
I slumped against her. “I don’t know. I guess it’s not really fair for me to tell her. If she doesn’t have to live with this, if her memory never comes back, I feel like it would be selfish of me to burden her with this.”
Mom suddenly burst into tears.
“God, Mom! Why are you crying?” I said, pulling away so I could look at her.