Chương 2
My stomach dropped.
“What thing?”
Claire looked at me.
Then she looked at Noah.
“We should not do this in front of him.”
That was the first sensible thing anyone had said in several minutes.
I turned to Lily.
“Take Noah to the car.”
“No.”
“Lil.”
“I’m not leaving you here alone.”
“I’m not asking you to leave me.”
Her face hardened.
I lowered my voice.
“I’m asking you to take care of your brother for five minutes.”
Something shifted in her expression.
She nodded.
Noah didn’t move.
“Mom?”
“I’m coming.”
“Did I do something?”
The whole table heard him.
Nobody looked comfortable enough to answer.
I bent until my face was level with his.
“No.”
“But Grandma said—”
“Grandma said something cruel.”
My mother inhaled loudly behind me.
I kept my eyes on Noah.
“And adults can be wrong.”
He searched my face.
“Am I not supposed to come anymore?”
The question nearly broke my voice.
“You go where I go.”
He nodded once.
Lily put her hand on his shoulder.
“Come on.”
They crossed the yard together, Noah walking slightly too close to his sister, the way he did when he felt uncertain in crowded places.
Halfway to the driveway, he glanced back at me.
I lifted my hand.
He lifted his.
Then he disappeared behind Evan’s SUV.
The moment he was out of earshot, I turned to Claire.
“What did you say last Thanksgiving?”
Claire looked miserable.
“I was frustrated.”
“What did you say?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, missed it, and tried again.
“That Christmas was easier the year you stayed home.”
I stared at her.
She rushed ahead.
“I didn’t mean because of Noah.”
“What did you mean?”
“It was just quieter.”
“Because Noah wasn’t there.”
“No, because there were fewer people.”
Mom laughed again.
Claire slammed her palm against the table.
“Would you stop helping?”
Dad finally spoke.
“Everybody needs to calm down.”
I looked at him.
He had been silent while his grandson sat six feet away hearing that he made the family worse.
Now he wanted calm.
“Dad, did you know Mom was planning not to invite Noah anymore?”
His face tightened around the mouth.
“I knew she was upset.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He stared toward the grill.
A burger had begun smoking.
Evan swore under his breath and went to move it.
Dad said, “Your mother and I discussed whether smaller gatherings might be better.”
“For Noah?”
“For everybody.”
“Did you agree with her?”
He didn’t answer.
That hurt more than an answer would have.
Mom pushed her chair back and stood.
“This has gotten completely out of proportion.”
“No,” I said.
“I think it has finally reached the correct proportion.”
She picked up her handbag.
“I am not going to sit here and be interrogated because a teenager violated my privacy.”
I stepped into her path before she could leave.
“You approached Lily three nights ago.”
“She was in my kitchen.”
“You brought up Noah.”
“I was trying to explain family dynamics to her.”
“You were recruiting her.”
Mom’s face changed.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
So did Claire.
“What do you mean, recruiting?” Claire asked.
I kept looking at Mom.
“You didn’t randomly complain to Lily.”
Mom said nothing.
“You wanted her to agree with you.”
“That’s absurd.”
“You wanted her to help convince me not to bring Noah.”
Lily had said something before the recording started.
I could hear it now in my head.
You told me I was old enough to understand why Noah shouldn’t be invited anymore.
Not why he was difficult.
Not why Mom felt stressed.
Why he shouldn’t be invited.
Claire stood slowly.
“Mom?”
Mom tightened her grip on her purse strap.
“This family has bent itself around Marissa for years.”
The sentence landed strangely.
Not around Noah.
Around me.
Evan came back from the grill carrying a blackened hamburger on the spatula.
He dropped it onto an empty paper plate and said, “What does that mean?”
Mom looked at all of us, and something weary entered her face.
For a moment, she didn’t look cruel.
She looked old.
Tired.
Cornered.
Then she said, “It means none of you know the whole story.”
I felt the first real flicker of fear.
Dad’s head came up.
“Carol.”
She turned toward him.
“What?”
“Don’t.”
His voice was quiet.
That single word changed the air more than Lily’s recording had.
Claire looked at Dad.
Evan stopped moving.
I stared at both of my parents.
“What whole story?”
Mom’s expression hardened again.
“Ask your father.”
Dad’s face went gray.
He sat very still, one hand resting beside the untouched slice of birthday cake on his plate.
“Dad?”
He rubbed his thumb across a smear of blue frosting.
“Not here.”
My stomach tightened.
“You don’t get to say not here after what just happened.”
“Marissa.”
“What?”
He looked toward the driveway, where my children were waiting.
Then he looked back at me.
“This did not start with Noah.”
I stared at my father until the sounds from the picnic began separating again.
The hiss of meat on the grill.
A child laughing somewhere near the side fence.
Ice settling inside the lemonade pitcher.
My aunt tearing a paper napkin into strips without seeming to notice.
Dad kept his eyes on the blue frosting.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He rubbed his thumb against the plate one more time and wiped it on his khaki shorts.
“Your mother and I disagreed about some things when you were younger.”
Mom let out a sharp breath.
“That is a very generous way to put it.”
Dad looked at her.
“Carol.”
“No, apparently we’re telling the truth now.”
Claire muttered, “That would be new.”
Mom heard her.
Her face tightened.
Dad pushed his plate away.
“Marissa, this is not about Noah being a difficult child.”
“Then what is it about?”
He looked toward the driveway again.
May you like
I followed his gaze automatically.
Through the gap between Evan’s SUV and Claire’s minivan, I could see Lily leaning against our car with her arms folded while Noah sat in the back seat with the door open.
