Page 68 of Until the Ribbon Breaks

“Every morning and then we have the option to come out during free time,” I tell him.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Mom says. “You had a friend stop by the other day. Well, he actually came to the house earlier this summer, but everything was so chaotic that I forgot all about it.”

“Who?”

“Noah.”

“What did he want?”

“He was wondering where you were.” When she sees my eyes widen, she rushes to tell me, “I didn’t say anything. I just told him you were away at camp.”

“Who’s Noah?”

“A friend from school,” I tell my dad.

I wonder if he believed my mother’s lie. I’m far from the type of girl who would go to a summer camp, and he knows it. Now I’m forced into a situation where I have to go along with this dumb lie and it sucks. Noah will surely see right through it.

Sebastian catches my attention when he comes outside and claims a seat at a nearby table. He’s all alone with dejection in his eyes. My curiosity lingers on him as I think about what he told me about his mother the other day.

“Guess what I got us,” my mom says, pulling my attention back.

“What?”

She smiles. “Subscription passes to Broadway in Seattle at the Paramount.”

“Why?”

She covers my hand with hers. “I thought it would be something special you and I could do together.”

I don’t want to hurt her feelings because she’s clearly excited, but I’m not into musicals and I’m not into the idea of forcing quality time. Just because we finally had one honest talk doesn’t mean our relationship has changed. We’ve never done something like this before, so it feels very unnatural to be doing it now.

“It sounds fun, right?”

“Yeah,” I lie and then look to my dad, who’s being really quiet.

He seems uncomfortable as he wrings his hands, and I quickly pick up on the tension between the two of them. Neither is looking at the other, and I get the feeling it’s deliberate.

“How long are you going to be home, Dad?”

“I fly to Heathrow tonight.”

“Didn’t you just get back?”

He nods, and my mom purses her lips in annoyance. She’s been leading me to believe that they’re staying together and working through whatever is going on between them, but what she claims isn’t supported by what I see in front of me.

They’re so annoying.

“Why don’t I get us something to eat,” my dad offers. “What would you like?”

“I guess a hamburger,” I tell him.

He walks over to the food table as I sit back and drift my focus to Sebastian, who’s still sitting by himself with his head resting on his fists.

“I spoke with Tyler yesterday,” Mom says, but I don’t acknowledge her because this visit is starting to sour my mood. “He’ll be home for Thanksgiving this year.”

Her voice fades into the background. She’s trying too hard to pretend as if everything is fine, as if we’re fine, as if I’m fine, as she blathers on and on about Broadway shows and Thanksgiving.

I give her random nods anduh-huhsuntil Dad returns with a plate of food for him and me ... and nothing for Mom.

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