Page 119 of Summer People
I sigh, and her shoulders slump.
“I’m not saying no.”
She straightens, her eyes lighting up.
“I’m not saying yes either,” I warn.
Like a balloon losing air, she deflates again.
How the hell do I explain this situation to an eight-year-old? Part of me wants to avoid it, but I can’t. Not if Libby is in our lives. “You’ve read about the emails that Brad Fedder sent Libby, right?”
A little line forms between her brows. “He wasn’t as nice as Logan is on the show.”
“He’s worse than not nice,” I say seriously.
She purses her lips, her chin dropping.
Fuck. I struggle with the words. This isn’t easy. As I sort through my thoughts, I can’t help but be even more impressed with Libby, because she lived it and came out stronger.
“Libby was young. Barely older than you when they started working together on the show.”
Sutton nods.
“And Brad.” I clear my throat. “He did things, touched her, said things that made her uncomfortable. And instead of stopping when she told him to stop, he did it again and again.”
For a minute she just stares straight ahead, but her eyes move back and forth as she processes the implications. Finally, she swallows and peers up at me. “No one made him stop?”
Fuck. Pain blooms in my chest. Because no, no one made him stop. All those fucking adults around, people who should have protected Libby, and no one made him stop.
But I don’t want to scare her, so I take a breath. “She didn’t have anyone she trusted enough to talk to. She was afraid. But Sutton.” I wait until her eyes meet mine. “Listen carefully to me.” I clear my throat. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, if someone touches you in a way you don’t want, you tell me, and I’ll take care of it. You should never be afraid to tell me anything.”
She nods solemnly, the expression far too serious for such a sweet, innocent child. It hurts to see it, but she needs to know.
Lips turned down, she studies my face. “You listen to me,” she says, like it’s so simple. “Like with Flora.”
“I will always listen to you,” I promise.
“I’m really lucky I have you,” she whispers. “Libby didn’t have ayou. She had aLogan.” Her tone turns harsh when she says the name.
Though I hate that I might have ruined one of her favorite shows tonight, I’d rather she didn’t idolize a person like Brad Fedder.
Sutton takes a deep breath. “Libby needs you.”
“That’s what I’m worried about, sweet pea.”
She nods. “You should go.” She’s resigned. She knows I can’t take her. Although the melancholy lingers, the anger is gone. “I’ll cheer really loud from here. So loud Libby will hear me and know how proud I am of her.”
The words suck the breath from my lungs. I haven’t looked at the situation that way. I haven’t thought of the moment as one where Sutton will see Libby shine. A moment Libby might want Sutton to see.
Guilt claws up my throat.
I smooth a hand down her hair and kiss her head. “Go to sleep, sweet pea. We can talk in the morning.”
Once Bing is settled on the foot of her bed and her moon lamp has been turned on, I shut the door and stomp down the stairs.
It’s too fucking quiet with Libby gone. I hate it.
“Want a beer?”
