by Jessica Kate
“Lili, are you saying your Dad’s sleeping with an art student?”
“No,” she scowled.
Nick’s face changed.
Realization hit, and Lili slapped her hands over her mouth.
He put a hand on the counter, as if to steady himself. “Are you saying”—he paused, like he couldn’t make the words come out of his mouth— “that . . . Aunt Trish?”
She shook her head. “No, no, ah—”
“I thought you said you didn’t know who she was.”
“I, um—”
“All this time, you’ve been thinking my aunt Trish was sleeping with your dad?”
She gave a small nod.
“Not Aunt Trish. She’s the good one. She’s a Christian.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Christians can make mistakes too.”
He shook his head. “Not Aunt Trish.”
“What are you saying? That I made it up?” Her voice neared ultrasonic.
“There’s no way she would do this.”
“I caught them making out in the art room.”
His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “That . . . that doesn’t mean anything.”
“I traced his phone back to her house.”
“They could have been working stuff out for Stephen.”
“At two in the morning?”
“No!” He slammed the countertop with his fist.
She jumped.
“You told me you didn’t know who it was. You either lied then or you’re lying now.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you! I know how important she is to you. But it’s true.” Her tone turned to pleading. How could he think she’d make this up? All this time, all the secrets, and now, when it was finally out, Nick wouldn’t even believe her?
He stared at her. “Don’t say that.”
Her emotions spiraled as her voice rose. “Don’t say what? That she’s been banging my dad and then saying hi to me at school? That she’s been lying to everyone? That’s she’s a hypocrite?”
“Shut up.” Nick took a step forward.
Lili backed into the door. She felt behind her for the handle, wrenched it open. “Get out.”
He shook his head and stomped past her, out into the hallway. He turned around, as if to say something, but she slammed the door in his face.
Then she walked over to the bottle and chugged the rest down.
* * *
Lili curled around the porcelain toilet bowl as her stomach spasmed.
Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to drink almost a whole bottle of wine on an empty stomach and no sleep.
A knock sounded at the door.
She retched again.
“Lili?” Granddad’s voice sounded concerned.
Oh no. Granddad had to pick today, of all days, for a surprise visit. The wine bottle was on the table, and she hadn’t locked the door after Nick.
Another contraction of her abdomen kept her on the floor.
“Lilianna?”
The apartment door whined as it opened. A moment’s silence, punctuated only by her gags.
“Lil.” Quick footsteps approached the bathroom, paused at the door. “Oh my—”
She couldn’t turn to see him, but thick fingers gently grasped her hair from behind, shifting it out of the way.
She lost what was hopefully the last of her stomach contents, then sank back on the tiles, eyes stinging with tears.
After a moment, Granddad grasped her arm and supported her weight as she stumbled to the sink. She twisted the faucet on full blast and shoved her face under the stream. Cool, cleansing heaven. She kept her face under the rush of water for long moments after she’d already rinsed her mouth and washed her face.
Finally she raised her head, water dripping from her chin and wet wisps of hair. She risked a glance at Granddad.
“Your elderly neighbor just asked me if I was one of those police strippers.” Granddad’s face held no mirth, his mouth set in a straight line. “And then I find my granddaughter drunk. I can smell it on you, Lili. Is this upside-down day?”
Despite the situation, her lips twitched in a smile. “You don’t get old ladies hitting on you regularly?”
Steam practically sizzled from his scalp. “This is not funny, Lilianna.”
Her gaze fell to the floor. “Yes, Granddad.”
“Where’s your uncle?”
“At basketball with Natalie.”
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing. I wasn’t drunk. I’ve been sick all day.”
“So you decided to treat it with a bottle of wine? I saw the bottle. I can smell your breath.”
She shrugged. She couldn’t tell him the real trigger for her behavior. If his reaction to a little alcohol was anything to go by, news of Dad’s affair would destroy this family—permanently.
Granddad perched on the edge of the bathtub. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I—I just had a fight with Nick.” Her lip trembled. “I think he hates me.”
“That’s it? You had a fight with a boy?” His tone indicated that was not a good enough reason.
“It—It was a big one.”
He gave a huff as he stood. “I’m taking you home.”
She pulled her gaze from the ground. “I am home.”
“No, to your parents’. Your uncle clearly doesn’t have his head on straight.”
Her eyes widened. “What about my things?”
“Grab what you can fit in your duffel, and you can get the rest later.” He strode from the bathroom, and after a moment there came a clink of glass against metal. Probably the bottle landing in the trash.
Lili ran her fingers through her hair, heat expanding through her chest and face. Another adult trying to boss her around. And his life in no more order than hers—one son a cheating hypocrite and the other estranged.
She sat on the bathroom floor, drew her knees to her chest, and locked her arms around them.
After a minute, Granddad stomped back in. His face slackened. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not going.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll put you over my shoulder and carry you.”
Boldness, perhaps from the residual alcohol, pumped through her veins. “I’ll scream. Mrs. McCarthy next door has a taser and wandering hands.”
Granddad drew in a slow breath, his intense gaze burning holes into Lili. Rage built behind his eyes, tinged with something else. She recognized it from her own reflection. Fear.
She pushed herself up off the ground. “What are you going to do? Shout at me, like you do to Uncle Jem? Throw me out of your family unless I behave like I’m perfect? Tell me you don’t love me anymore?” She folded her arms. “Whatever. I don’t care.”
Had she performed a spontaneous jazz number, Granddad couldn’t have looked more stunned.
After a moment he wiped the frozen-fish look off his face and replaced it with a scowl. “You’re talking crazy.” He strode to the door, then turned back, face set. “I’m walking down to the car. If you’re not there in five minutes, I’m coming back to handcuff you and sit you in lockup for underage drinking.” He glared at her. “Don’t think I won’t. Just ask your father.”
She watched him go, stood still for a full thirty seconds. Then she dashed to her room and stuffed her laptop and clothes into a backpack.
Few things could be worse than going home.
But one of them was sitting in lockup.
30
Red-and-blue lights whirled in Jem’s rearview mirror. The flashes caught his gaze as he drove one-handed through Charlottesville’s darkening streets, reenacting his winning three-pointer to Natalie with the other.
“Are you serious?” He checked the mirror again. “I’m not even speeding. If this is Dad again, this has got to be some sort of abuse of power.” He let the car roll to a stop on the side of the road.
He even had good news to share with Dad, but he’d rather not do it in the glow of police lights.<
br />
Natalie looked over her shoulder, her chocolate-colored ponytail bouncing with movement. “It’s your dad. And he looks crankier than a librarian with a wedgie.” She stuffed a McDonald’s bag, three soda cans, and a diaper under her seat.
Jem swiped dust off the dash and hit the windshield with a squirt of water.
Their teamwork was instant. Synchronized. Unspoken. There’d been a weird energy between him and Nat for the last few weeks. They’d relied on one another during the drama of Olly’s injections, finger-prick tests, and the haze of grief around Phil’s diagnosis. They’d both spent a lot of time this week at the Groves home with Phil.
But she was still dating Sam.
A rhythmic crunch of gravel indicated Dad’s approach. A moment later his starched shirt blocked the view from Jem’s window. He tapped the glass.
Jem wound down the window while rolling his eyes. A rush of cold air swept in, cooling the sweat on his body. “You know they’ve invented these wonderful things called cell phones, Dad.”
“You should try answering yours once in a while. License and registration, please.”
Great, he was snippy already. As he reached for his papers, Jem eyed the awards-night invitation perched in the cupholder where he stashed his phone and spare pacifiers. Maybe not the best time to extend his olive branch of inviting Dad to the ceremony. But they hadn’t seen one another for weeks—how could he possibly be angry about something?
He handed his license and registration over. “My name is Lucius Alfredo, and this is my friend Kathy Cupcake. What’s going on?”
“I could say the same to you.” Dad took the wallet and stepped back. “I’ll check your details. Wait here.”
“What the— He’s not— Augh!” He thumped the steering wheel. “I swear, he does this just to drive me insane.”
Natalie pulled his phone from the console. “You missed six calls.”
“What?” He grabbed the phone. All the calls had arrived during the game.
Natalie twisted the heat control. A blast of hot air hit Jem’s face even as chills rippled through his body. What was so urgent that Dad would call him six times?
His father reappeared at the window and held Jem’s wallet up but out of reach. “I have Lili in the back of my car.”
“What? Why? What’s wrong?” Jem twisted to try and see her, but Dad’s car was parked at an angle that blocked his view.
“I was returning her to Mike and Steph’s.”
“You were . . . Excuse me?” A firecracker lit in his brain. “What gives you the right—”
“I have every right,” Dad snapped. “The only reason I’ve brought her back to you is because they’re both out.”
Jem gaped at him. “Who made you the policeman of parenting?”
“Your apartment is no place for an unstable teenage girl. You’ve got Oliver’s sickness, the drama with his mother. Natalie’s got her own crisis—”
Jem’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Dad, controlling everything. Again. “The decision for Lili to live at my house is between Mike, Steph, and me.”
“Mike hasn’t seen Lili in two weeks. How is he supposed to have confidence that—”
“Steph takes her out to lunch all the time. They know exactly how she is.”
“I found her drunk.”
Jem opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Beside him, Natalie leaned forward. “You what?”
“She was throwing up. Your bottle of wine was empty. And I could smell it.”
Jem narrowed his eyes. “You’re telling me you found Lili drunk. I haven’t even bought more cooking wine— Oh.” There was that gift bottle he’d received from his old workmates. But he still shook his head.
Dad reared back. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“I’d like to hear Lili’s version.”
Dad’s lip curled in a sneer. “This is why I took her to Mike and Steph’s. I knew you wouldn’t be concerned about this.” He shook his head, as if he wondered why he’d ever expected better.
The words struck like a hook to the ribs. Failure.
Jem pushed the inner voice aside and glanced at Natalie. “Could you please get Lili?”
She slipped out of the car and jogged toward the police vehicle.
He counted to five, jaw clenched. “I never said I wasn’t concerned—”
Dad cut him off with a slash of his hand. “When are you going to stop goofing around and realize this stuff is serious?”
Jem’s last thread of restraint snapped. “When are you going to stop inventing reasons to criticize me so you feel better about your own crappy parenting?”
Dad drew himself even more upright. “How dare you—”
“No, how dare you, Dad?” He spat out the long-held-back words. He was a man now. Dad had no right to lecture him anymore. “You had your chance and you screwed it up. Stop messing up mine.”
Lili and Natalie slid through the passenger-side doors at the same time.
He raised his eyebrows at his father. “You going to give me my wallet back?”
“Not until you—”
“You know what? Keep it.”
Jem hit the gas and squealed away. His father, a lone figure in the side mirror, grew smaller and then disappeared altogether.
Shaking his head, Jem tried to shake off Dad’s judgmental words. And the niggle of guilt at his own response. He flicked a glance at Lili in the rearview mirror. “What happened, Lil?”
There was a long pause. “I felt sick all day, and a friend at school told me that a little bit of wine settles your stomach. They’re into those organic remedies and stuff. I was at home, and Tylenol wasn’t working, and I saw a bottle in your pantry. So I had half a cup. Granddad caught me and went berserk.” She shrugged. “You know how he is.”
Jem made eye contact in the mirror again, but Lili broke it. Fresh worry poured in. Was she telling the truth? “So if I go home and check the bottle, will there only be half a cup missing?”
“Uh . . . Granddad poured the rest down the sink and threw out the bottle.”
“Of course he did,” Jem muttered.
Natalie glanced at him.
Jem pulled into his apartment block’s parking lot and shut off the car. He shifted in his seat to face Lili, who stroked a sleeping Oliver’s hand. Had she been acting different lately? Between Olly’s diabetes and Phil’s terminal diagnosis, he couldn’t remember. His stomach churned, twisting and flopping in that spot below his diaphragm. Maybe Dad was r— No. That thought wasn’t worth finishing.
He wasn’t like Dad. He could actually communicate.
“Lili.” He waited till she looked at him. “You know you can tell me if something’s going on.”
She squirmed in her seat. “I know.”
“Is there anything? Anything at all?”
“No.” She stopped her squirms and held his stare.
He sighed and dropped his gaze. “Okay. Make sure you tell us if anything ever comes up. And no more organic remedies.” He shook his head. “I have no idea if it settles your stomach or not, but you won’t taste alcohol again until your twenty-first birthday. Am I clear?”
“Fine.” Lili unclipped her seat belt and shot from the car into the building.
Jem leaned his head back against the seat.
Natalie twisted to face him. She still wore her blue-and-gold basketball uniform, and the intense game had put some pink back in her cheeks. But concern darkened her green eyes. “Do you believe her?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “What else can I do? It’s her word against Dad’s. And he’s proven more than once he has his own guilt-driven agenda. Have you noticed anything odd about Lili’s behavior?”
She shrugged. “I’ve barely noticed the sun going up and down for the past few weeks.”
He grimaced. The timing was horrendous. Between Natalie’s grief over her father’s life expectancy, concern for Olly, and her new workload, he was already worried about her. Sh
e was slipping away, and he seemed powerless to stop it.
He pushed his fingers through his hair. “We’ll just have to keep a close eye on her.”
She nodded, then snagged the envelope that he’d shoved into his cupholder, the word “Congratulations” stamped on the front. “What’s this?”
He tried to smile, but his facial muscles felt heavy. “Can you believe I was going to drop by Dad’s place tomorrow and tell him about this? I got nominated for a journalism award. That’s the invitation to the gala dinner.”
“Are you serious? That’s amazing.”
Jem pictured his father’s probable reaction. “He’d find something to criticize.”
Natalie shoved his shoulder. “Forget trying to please him. You don’t have to prove that you’re good enough to anyone.”
Jem widened his eyes in mock pain. But her words soothed the roiling tension inside. She had a point. Maybe if he could just remember that, he could stop doing stupid things around Dad.
He rubbed his forehead. He’d only resolved to try again with Dad last week. Hadn’t taken long for that to fall apart.
Natalie pulled the elegant invitation from its envelope. Jem allowed himself the luxury of watching. Natalie had kept her word about forgiving him these past weeks, and it no longer seemed to take just three seconds for her to hate him again.
They were definitely up to at least seven.
That was it. Jem set his jaw. If Natalie could do it, so could he. Next time he had a run-in with his father, no matter what went down, he would not react. He would not be goaded. He would not explode. He would forgive.
He shot up a prayer for divine help. This would require nothing short of an act of God.
Natalie, reading the invite, widened her eyes. “This ceremony looks like it’s going to be gorgeous.”
The sparkle in her expression fully erased Jem’s mental image of Dad standing alone on the roadside. “Well . . . you could come. As a friend.” His pulse quickened at the thought, though she was certain to say no.
She hesitated. “I thought you’d need me to watch the kids.”
Jem’s mind scrambled for solutions. “Lili can babysit. Maybe Steph can help too, keep an eye on Olly’s sugars. We won’t stay late.” His voice was at its most coaxing. Was it a dog move to invite another man’s girlfriend to his award ceremony? Maybe. But if Sam wanted her, he could fight for her.