Page 48 of Hell to Pay

“He can stay there,” she said. “For now.”

I was surprised, but maybe the implied memory of my attempted suicide, especially when applied to Matt, had made her see reason.

“Can you bring his backpack to school so he has his schoolwork?” I asked.

“Yes, fine.”

“I’ll let him know.” There was so much to say in the silence that followed and no point saying any of it. “How are you? Are you okay? Besides this, I mean?”

“I’m fine. I trust in the Lord.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded, waiting to see if she’d ask the same question. How was I? How had I been these last two years? Was I okay?

But she didn’t.

“I’m glad. I guess that’s it then.” I hesitated. “Love you, Mom.”

“Take care of yourself, Lilah.”

33

NOLAN

I wasin the kitchen with Rafe and Jude when I heard the front door close. I knew it was Lilah coming home with Matt after their shopping trip, but I forced myself to stay put at the island, not wanting to seem too jumpy.

In the few minutes I’d seen Matt that morning when he’d been on his way out with Lilah, it was obvious he was already jumpy. I still didn’t know what had happened between him and his mom — Lilah had made a call on the deck, then gone to bed the night before — but the kid was clearly off-kilter.

They came in a couple minutes later, Lilah looking as beautiful as ever in jeans and a T-shirt (how did she do that? how did she look so fucking beautiful in something so simple?), Matt walking a few steps behind in the same basketball shorts and hoodie he’d worn the night before.

She was wearing her hair in a ponytail and I noticed she’d removed the gauze bandage on the back of her neck and replaced it with a smaller plastic bandage that still hid the brand.

My chest squeezed a little when I saw that they were carrying armfuls of shopping bags. Lilah couldn’t afford to buy stuff for Matt, but I knew she’d never allow us to help. It was becoming a source of constant frustration, for me and for Jude.

Helping would be so easy — we wouldn’t even notice any money we gave her — but she was always a hard no on any help we offered.

“How’d it go?” Jude asked as they set down the bags.

“Good.” Lilah looked at Matt. “Think we got everything you’ll need for a bit?”

He nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

I didn’t know if his shoulders were always hunched — if he always looked like a beaten dog — or if it was because of what had happened with his mom, but the kid looked like he needed a friend.

“I hope you’re hungry,” I said. “Rafe’s making tacos.”

It was a testament to how badly Rafe wanted to make a good impression, how badly he wanted to do something for Lilah, that he was standing over the stove frying corn tortillas. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook, it was more that Jude and I usually beat him to the punch and he was more than happy to let us do it.

Of course, Rafe would never in a million years admit he was painstakingly seasoning ground beef and frying the tortillas for homemade taco shells to do something nice for Lilah and her brother, but that was definitely what the dinner spread was all about.

“Tacos sound amazing,” Lilah said.

She was being sincere, but there was still an air of forced joviality to the words. The situation was weird, tense as fuck, and none of us knew exactly how to navigate it. Did Matt know we were the ones who’d sent the pictures of Lilah to everyone in high school? If so, what explanation had she given him for the fact that she was living here now?

I could only hope it was a subject that hadn’t yet been broached by either of them because Matt didn’t look like a kid who would be able to get his head around that part.

“How long until dinner?” Lilah asked.

“Twenty minutes,” Rafe muttered.

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