Page 34 of My Best Bet

Lucy was quiet as I drove the twenty minutes over to my parent’s house. As soon as I signed with Chicago a few years back, my parents purchased a house in a nearby suburb. They still owned the home I grew up in back in Michigan, but they rarely went back. I never went back. There were too many memories there.

This house was almost the same as the one I grew up in though– too large, dark brick with a million windows, gated with a rod-iron fence and keypad, and my mom’s signature blue hydrangeas lining the driveway. Instead of it being on a small, local lake like our old house, this one backed right up to Lake Michigan itself. We’d probably come here and use the private lake access more often if Lucy and my mom got along better.

My mom answered the door wearing one of her usual bright Lily Pulitzer dresses and her eyes immediately narrowed in on Lucy’s hair. “Oh, you got a haircut.”

“Yeah,” Lucy said quietly, then eyed me nervously, like she was afraid I’d tell her what happened.

“It’s too short. Her curls are all gone,” my mom snapped, looking from her to me.

I hated how Lucy’s shoulders tensed.

“It looks beautiful,” I brushed a hand over Lucy’s head and gave her an encouraging smile. She hid slightly behind my legs, not wanting to move any further into the house.

“Well, next time let me take her to my salon so they don’t completely–”

“Mom,” I cut her off. “Stop,”I mouthed.

Her forehead creased with worry as she took in Lucy one more time, then she turned on her heel and led us into the sunroom where the brunch table was already set.

My eyes scanned over the three place-settings. “Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, he’s off working.” She waved the thought away. “You know him.”

“Yeah.” I knew him, alright. He was alwaysoff working, I thought sarcastically.

The maid– a new one I didn’t recognize– served a colorful quiche along with poached potatoes. Lucy grimaced as she prodded the tomatoes, spinach, and mushrooms in her quiche. This wasnota kid’s breakfast, but my mother would rather die than serve something like cocoa puffs or pancakes.

“Well, her birthday is next month.” My mom pointed to Lucy and smiled. “She goes to school now, is she going to have a sixth birthday party? You should really invite her whole class and all the parents over to the house to set the tone right. Have you thought of that, Colton?”

Shit. No, I hadn’t thought of it at all. “You want a party, Lu?”

“Lu?” My mom grimaced. “That makes her sound like a boy.” Under her breath she added, “And with that haircut.” She sighed and shook her head in disappointment. “It’s alright, it’ll grow back soon. I’ll ask around about some growth serums, I’m sure the ladies at the club have experienced a bad haircut or two.” She laughed lightly.

Lucy’s face scrunched up like she was trying hard not to cry.

“Mom,” I warned, giving her a harsh look.

She scrunched her shoulders and shot me a look that said,What? I’m just trying to help.

The three of us went silent, only the sound of forks scraping our plates filled the air.

“You should really have a party,” my mom said finally. “I can help you plan it if you’d like. A high class party for a high class girl,” she said, sticking her chin in the air.

“No, that’s okay,” Lucy whispered and continued pushing food around her plate. “I don’t want one.”

Mom raised her eyebrows at me. “You need to make sure she’s socializing with girls her own age,” she whispered. “She can’t just hang around you and those two hooligans all the time.”

Lucy popped her elbow on the table and held her forehead.

“Elbows off,” Mom demanded.

Lucy bit the inside of her cheek and side-eyed me while slipping her hands into her lap.

“Eat your food now,” she ordered.

“I don’t like this food,” Lucy said quietly.

Mom pursed her lips, then slid her disappointed gaze my way.

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