Life and Other Inconveniences(98)

“Not that you would’ve known.”

He pulled back, wounded. “That’s not fair. I was there as much as I could be, and a hell of a lot more than most guys would’ve been.”

“You’re right. Where’s that medal I’ve been meaning to give you?” I pretended to pat down my pockets.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked.

“You’re very judgmental about Tess, and Miller’s your cousin. You could be nicer.”

“You’ve always had a thing for him, haven’t you?”

“No, Jason, I never did. But I can recognize that he’s heartbroken and lonely and exhausted, and his family seems to do jack shit for him.”

“Okay, fine, whatever. Listen,” Jason said. “Jamilah and I are trying to get back together. I wanted to take her out for dinner, you know? Can you please help out? I mean, Riley can watch them here, right? There’s a whole staff in this place, plus Genevieve.”

My spine stiffened. “Genevieve’s staff is not a fleet of babysitters, Jason. They’re all well past sixty. She’s made it clear the boys are welcome to visit, but they’re little and pretty wild themselves. If you want to ask Genevieve yourself, go right ahead.”

“I don’t want to talk to her. She hates me.”

“Well, I can’t give you permission. It’s not mine to give.”

“So you’re mad, is that it? Because Jamilah and I are getting back together?”

I counted to three, then five, then ten. “I wasn’t aware that you were getting back together, for one, and for two, why would I be mad about that?” The honest answer was because, from what I’d observed, Jamilah deserved better, but I didn’t voice that opinion.

“Because you’ve always hoped we’d end up together. You said so.”

“That dream died when I was about twenty-three, Jason.”

My grandmother glided over, wearing white silk pants (at a picnic, really showing off), a yellow blouse and a peach-and-yellow-floral-printed summer cardigan. “Jason,” she said in that regal, frosty tone. “I wasn’t aware you were here. Let me have someone fetch your boys so you can leave.”

Man, she was good.

“Hi, Mrs. London, nice to see you, too.”

“Did I say it was nice to see you? I don’t recall saying that.”

“You didn’t,” I said.

“Genevieve,” Jason began.

“Mrs. London will do nicely,” she said.

“Mrs. London, would it be all right if my boys came over tomorrow night and hung out with Riley?”

“Of course,” she said. “Your sons are lovely and well mannered. Your wife is to be commended on raising them so well.”

“Yeah, well, I did have a little something to do with that,” he said, smiling. His charm didn’t work.

“I’m sure you think so,” Genevieve said. Boom! “Emma, dear, come with me, would you? I don’t think you had a chance to chat with Amy and Anne. Good night, Jason. The boys will be right over.”

Emma, dear. She hadn’t called me that since I was eighteen. As we left Jason behind us, I said, “You know, Gigi, you do have your moments.”

“Thank you for noticing,” she said. “Ah, there they are. Owen, Duncan, your father is waiting for you by the wisteria bower. Riley, darling, would you be so kind as to escort them?”

“Boys, please let me escort you,” she said, taking their hands as they giggled and tugged at her. Gigi and I watched them go.

“That girl is absolutely lovely, Emma,” she said.

My mouth dropped open. “Thank you,” I managed.

“Well. Don’t just stand there. Anne and Amy are waiting. You have something on your shirt, by the way. Perhaps someday you’ll learn to eat without soiling yourself.”

But the words were said without the usual bite. With a faint smile, I followed her across the lawn to meet her friends.





CHAPTER 29


    Riley


After Mom and Mrs. Talwar had, like, eleven conversations, Rav and I finally got permission to ride our bikes out to Birch Lake with instructions not to go swimming, since there were no lifeguards there. Which was ridiculous, because it was a perfect spot for swimming. But it was a state park or something, and budget cuts, the usual.

Rav and I both had backpacks on; mine had sunscreen (try being the color of milk in the summer), two bottles of water, two turkey sandwiches I made while Helga glared, and a couple of apples. He had a blanket in his, and some food his mom had packed. We’d had dinner at his house the other night, Gigi, Donelle, Mom and me, and man, it was fantastic. I wished we were Indian. The food was incredible.

The weather was perfect again; it had been muggy for days, but a thunderstorm last night cleared everything out, and the air was dry, which was great, because when it was humid, the mosquitoes found me like I was painted in blood.

We rode across town, away from the shore, taking the roads our mothers had mapped out like we were going to Mecca or something. The entrance to Birch Lake was a wide dirt road; the parking area was about ten yards down, so everyone had to walk down a path to get to the actual water.

Rav and I locked our bikes together.

He was nice. And cute. And almost as tall as I was. His eyes were so brown they were almost black, and his eyelashes were insanely long. But he was fifteen (and ten months) and I was sixteen (and seven months). I was going to be a senior; he was going to be a sophomore. When we’d been with other people, the age difference didn’t seem to matter. Right now, it did.