Inevitable and Only(13)

And yet, they were both here.

My ice cream started turning into a sticky brown-gray puddle as I stirred it with my spoon.

“So,” Micayla said, “do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?” I mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” Raven said. “You called us and said it was an ice cream emergency. We came running.”

“I know. You guys are the best,” I said.

“So?” Micayla prompted.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, start somewhere,” Raven said. “You’re killing me!”

“Okay, okay.” It was going to sound melodramatic no matter how I said it. “My dad … found out that he has another kid. A daughter. My age. Her mother just died and she’s coming to live with us.”

Silence.

Then Micayla whistled, and Raven clapped a hand on my arm. “Cadie. Shut. Up.”

I nodded. My ears were ringing, as if hearing my own voice utter all those words had done some sort of permanent damage. My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth, which was suddenly very dry. As if the words had scorched me from the inside out.

“Wow.” Raven blew out a long breath. “Shit. Who knew your dad was such a player?”

“Raven!” said Micayla.

Dad? A player?

Raven saw the look on my face. “Oh god, Cadie, I’m sorry. Me and my big mouth.”

Micayla shot Raven a dirty look, then turned to me. “Honey, how’s your mom doing?”

I shook my head. What if I could invent a head motion for every word in the English language and never have to speak again?

I could see Raven thinking over what I’d said. “If she’s your age … ,” she said slowly. “That means your mom and dad were already married.”

I nodded again.

“Sweet mother Mary,” said Micayla. “I’m not sure two scoops is enough for this situation.”

I held my stomach, which was rumbling ominously, and groaned. Raven and Micayla scooted closer on either side of me and put their arms around me.

“This shoulder’s here,” Micayla said, “no matter what happens. You hear me?”

“Second that,” said Raven. “Plus, you can always come sleep over at my house if things get too weird.”

I looped my arms under theirs, so the three of us were linked together. Luckily we were facing the window, not the rest of the shop. I was sure everyone else was staring at us. Despite that, and the way I seemed to have lost my powers of speech, and the fact that I was kind of lactose intolerant and ice cream was always a terrible decision … I felt a little better.





CHAPTER SIX


Dad came home Friday night. I’d been expecting a big blowup, Act Two of the scene in the living room on Tuesday. But he was just there when I came home from the Charmery, quietly making Missing Tuna Casserole for dinner. In a fat green glass vase on the table, there was a giant bouquet of pink and white lilies, Mom’s favorites. She acted as if they’d materialized there all by themselves. Normally I loved their scent, but tonight it seemed to clog up all the air in the room.

No one ate much or said much at dinner, but at least we all ate together. Mom has always been big on “family meals.” Dad would be happy to eat on the couch while reading a book, but Mealtime is our chance to talk to each other like human beings, Mom always says. Tonight, though, they sat at opposite ends of the table with the lilies between them like a pink-and-white buffer and pretty much ignored each other. I wasn’t hungry after all that ice cream, and I’ve never been too fond of Missing Tuna anything. Josh ate quickly, then went up to his room to do homework. (For crying out loud, what kind of ten-year-old does his homework on a Friday night?) The strains of a Shostakovich string quartet filtered down through the kitchen ceiling a few minutes later, which wasn’t good. Josh only listened to Shostakovich when he was really upset.

I pushed back my chair and said I was going to go check on Josh, but Dad held out a hand.

“Cadie. Just a minute. Mom and I have to talk to you.”

What now?

“We discussed this with Josh while you were out, and he’s fine with it.” Dad paused. “We want you to know that any decisions we make going forward are your decisions, too.” I noticed how many times he was using the word “we,” as if stressing that he and Mom were still a team. I wondered who he was trying to convince. Mom hadn’t made eye contact with him once.

Now, though, she rolled her eyes and interrupted him, as if trying to get this conversation over with more quickly. “The problem is,” she said, addressing me, “we don’t have another bedroom. For Elizabeth.” It was the first time I’d heard Mom say her name, and it didn’t sound quite right coming out of her mouth. As if she were pronouncing a word in a new language that she didn’t know very well. As if she wasn’t quite sure where to place the accent. Or the girl herself, apparently.

Dad nodded. “So Mom and I had an idea—we could move into your room, and you and Elizabeth could share the master bedroom.”

My jaw literally dropped. “You want me to share a room with her? With a girl I’ve never even met?”

Dad continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “In the long term, we’ll finish the basement and make another bedroom down there. But we can’t afford to do that right now, and obviously there’s not enough time, anyway.” He glanced at Mom for a moment, then back at me. “And Cadie … try not to think of her as just ‘a girl.’ I know this will take time. But remember, she’s your sister.”