Page 9 of Under My Skin
“Jesus,” I mutter. “What the hell are they thinking?”
“Who knows? I tried calling and asking, but Mom quickly gotoverwhelmed by tangled yarn and needed to go.” When I hold his gaze, he adds, “I’m not joking.”
“Good ole Leslie,” I muse with a low laugh. Finishing off the last of my beer, I check the time. “Hal told me to pick a paint color for the apartment, so I have to figure out what to tell him. Any plans?”
Simon mirrors me in tossing back the last of his drink. “Not tonight. I told Lucy I’d pick her up from the airport, but she won’t tell me what time her flight gets in.”
My eyebrows furrow. “Why wouldn’t she tell you?”
“I don’t know. I think she’s still processing everything. Maybe she wants to see my parents first so she can get answers.”
I set my card on the table. “Hopefully she gets them.” When he goes to do the same, I shake my head. “I’ve got this round.”
Without hesitating, he smiles. “Thanks, man.” He bought me more than enough rounds when I was going through my shit last year. Even if Simon isn’t upset about the divorce, the least I can do is return the favor. I owe him a lot more than this beer.
Chapter Five
LUCY
I stepout of the airport and adjust the floral duffel bag my mom gifted me when I went to college. It’s been almost a year since I’ve been home. Last Christmas was spent in my parents’ living room where we played games, laughed, drank, and roasted each other.
I swear my dad had looked at my mom adoringly. Could I be remembering it wrong? Maybe they were both miserable, and I was too wrapped up in my own life to notice. My business was just taking off, and my client list was growing. Maybe I was too focused on other things to see how broken they were. Maybe I didn’t even bother to pay attention.
I wrap my chunky knit cardigan around myself a little tighter and take in my home state. The familiar deep oranges and reds of the trees changing colors takes the edge off my anxiety, but knowing my parents’ home will never be the same makes this trip feel more like an emergency landing than a homecoming. I pull out my phone to request an Uber.
Ellen will be here in three minutes.
I could call my brother to pick me up. The airport is only about twenty minutes from his apartment, but I’m not ready toget into things with him. Which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense considering I just asked Ellen to deliver me to his address, but I think I need the twenty-minute car ride. I need a little more time.
I tried calling my mom before I got on my flight as a last-ditch effort to let her tell me what’s going on, but she didn’t answer. Staring at the outbound call with no new incoming calls above it, I force air into my lungs and dial her number again.
“Honey!” my mother exclaims on the other end of the phone. “I’m so sorry I missed your call earlier. Your father and I have been ripping this house apart and trying to get rid of anything we haven’t used in ten years.” She laughs. “But you know your father. The man won’t part with a set of golf clubs even though he’s probably only used them once.”
I blink, unsure of what to say. Shouldn’t she be sad? Shouldn’t she sound like the life she once knew is ending? How can she sound exactly like her usual self when so much is happening behind the scenes?
“Why are you getting rid of so much?” I meant for my voice to come out light and casual, but I sound panicked—probably because I am. Excuse me for not being as good of an actress as my mother.
“Just some spring cleaning in October,” she says with another laugh. “Hey, do you still want that box of stuffed animals we have in your closet? I think we narrowed it down to just keeping your favorites a few years ago, but are you ever going to want them?”
Who knew an artist could be so ruthless with her lies? I quickly itch my nose when it tingles with the threat of tears. “Maybe?” I say, failing to not sound defeated.
Ellen pulls up to the curb in her blue Rav4, and I give her my best smile before placing my cat carrier and suitcase near my feet in the back seat. She tosses me a wave over her shoulder, and I wave back.
Despite my effort to be quiet, I guess my mom can hearthe car door close because she says, “Where are you headed? Fun plans tonight?”
The truth is on the tip of my tongue. I could tell her I’m on my way to Simon’s apartment. I plan on seeing her tomorrow, anyway, so it’s not like I’m going to hide this trip from her. But even though I have no reason to hide my truth, I hold it hostage. “I’m meeting up with Allison and Dina.”
“Oh, that’s great! Give them a hug for me.”
My fist clenches in my lap. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this rigid. But then again, I can’t remember the last time I’ve been blatantly lied to like this. “Yeah, will do. Where’s Dad? Isn’t it a little late for you two to be cleaning the house?”
I hold my breath as I wait for her response. I wonder if she’s sweating under the pressure, or if the lies she’s curated roll off her tongue with ease. “Hmm,” she says like she’s actively looking for him, and I wonder if she is. “He’s around here somewhere.”
“Who’s around where nowhere?” my father’s deep voice rings in the background. It’s one of his favorite jokes, and I’ve never had the heart to tell him it makes no sense.
My mother laughs at it the same way she has for as long as I can remember. “Oh, here he is. Honey, it’s Lulu,” she says to my dad.
Their conversation is sonormal. It’s making me nostalgic for something I haven’t technically lost yet. What will happen when I call them six months from now? Will they each be alone? Will it be my mom’s new boyfriend trying to make jokes instead? Or will it be my dad’s girlfriend trying to connect with me? Whose idea was this divorce, anyway? I was so blindsided when Simon told me that I didn’t even think to ask for details.
