Page 63 of Under My Skin
I shake my head. “Not today.”
Mom’s eyes linger on me a beat too long, but she bounces back quickly enough. “Well, that’s okay.”
“I would hope Simon’s stopped eating your food by now,” Lucy says.
Mom laughs and it makes her look a little less fragile than I’ve seen in a long time. “Oh, we always loved having Simon here.” I tense at thewebecause I know who she’s referring to, but Mom sails right past it. With a laugh, she adds, “Our grocery bill probably doubled during those years, but I wouldn’t have changed a thing.” Seeming to remember we’re still standing in the entryway,she blinks and beckons us forward with a hand. “Well, come in. Can I get you anything? Water?”
Lucy smiles warmly as she takes off my jacket. “Water would be great, thanks.” She goes to drape the jacket over her arm, but I gently take it from her and rest it on the back of the recliner in the living room.
“How about you, honey?” my mother asks, her eyes brighter than I’ve seen in a while.
“Yeah. Water sounds good.”
Mom practically bounces on her toes. “Two waters, coming right up!” She lifts a hand to her head and mutters, “Oh, shit. I still have a towel on my head.” Both hands go up in a flustered gesture before she regroups. “Okay, two waters, and then I’ll run and fix my hair.”
Lucy giggles, and the sound brings a smile to my lips. I don’t know how she does it, but my mom’s house already looks different to me than it did yesterday. Brighter maybe? Bigger? The walls aren’t closing in, and the only difference is Lucy.
Mom comes back with two glasses of ice water, and we thank her. Quickly excusing herself, she hurries down the long hallway that leads to her bedroom and closes the door behind her.
Lucy takes a seat on my mom’s green microfiber couch, looking perfectly at home. Hell, she probably looks more comfortable here than she did in her own parents’ house. Taking a sip of her water, Lucy keeps her lingering smile while she says, “Your mom seems great.”
“She is.” Setting the bag down on the entryway table, I dig out the radiator key. I toss the package up and catch it, feeling better about being here than I have in months. “Time to get to work.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
LUCY
Everett’s momis so full of life. She’s funny, loving, and the way she honors her late husband’s memory in casual conversation is truly beautiful. She seems so proud to have loved him and been loved by him. Even as she sits across from me, her dark hair still a little damp after she took the blow-dryer to it, her eyes have this twinkle to them that remind me a little of my own mother.
Since we’ve been here, Everett has taken care of her radiator, cleaned the gutters, and now he’s back inside to fix something in the upstairs bathroom. It turns out there are a lot of things that needed some attention. The wood accents on the walls give this cozy home so much character. There are built-in bookshelves, nooks, and wooden beams sprinkled throughout that make it the type of place you’d like to drink a cup of tea under a blanket.
“So, how are your parents?” Nancy asks as she sets a plate of shortbread cookies on the coffee table. They look like the ones that come in the tins around Christmas time.
“They’re fine.” The words come out quickly, like an automatic response.
She nods slowly. “I heard about their separation. I’m sorry. Itmust be tough to see your family go through such a big change. This will be good for them, though.”
“Thanks.” My voice comes out smaller than I expected. How could this possibly be good for them? Marriage seemed like it was working well for them, too. I reach for a cookie for the sake of having something to do. “Did you happen to hear why they’re separating?” If my own parents won’t give me answers, maybe someone else will. I don’t think my mom and Nancy were ever extremely close outside of having two boys the same age. I’m sure there are rumors floating around as to why a couple who have been together most of their lives are suddenly closing shop.
Nancy’s brows furrow. “They haven’t given you a reason?”
I suppress a scoff. If only she knew they hadn’t wanted to tell me at all. “Not one that makes sense.” I take a bite of the cookie, hating how pathetic it all makes me feel. I might as well be Nancy Drew in a teen mystery, determined to find answers when the bottom line is that it doesn’t matter. Maybe Simon is right, whatever my parents’ reasons are, I can’t change the outcome.
The cookie is stale. I’m starting to think itisone of those shortbread cookies from the Christmas tins, and that it’s probably been sitting in her pantry for the past ten months. I eat the rest of it but refrain from grabbing another.
“I don’t think I know anything you don’t,” she says with a sad smile. “Sometimes people drift apart or want different things in life. I know there was a lot of surprise when your parents first listed the house and people found out about the divorce—I don’t think anyone saw that coming—but as for a reason for the divorce itself, I have no idea.”
“That’s okay.” I look down at my hands, unsure of what else to say.
“The important thing is that both of your parents feel good about the decision.”
I look up to meet her stare again, and her smile warms.
“I saw your mom at the grocery store not long after they listedthe house. She was so wonderful when we lost Brent last year, and I wanted to extend the same level of support if she needed it. But she assured me she was fine and that she and your father were working toward the same goal together—as a team. It’s the way it should be.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and nod, but I can’t help getting hung up on the word “goal.” What type of goal do they have in mind that they’re willing to destroy our family? Are we just the means that will justify their end? Casualties of love and war?
“So,” Nancy says with a deep inhale. “How long have you and Everett been spending time together?” As she takes a sip of her drink, the coy smile at the corner of her mouth sends my heart into overdrive.
