True Places(46)
Brynn clenched her teeth. All she’d wanted was to chill with her brother for a while, and now she was the ice cream waitress. She stomped off to the kitchen before her anger flew out of her. She didn’t like to lose control; it frightened her. But so many things pissed her off, especially since Iris had arrived. Their family was kind of messed up—whose wasn’t?—but Iris somehow made it all too obvious, at least to Brynn. She could see how her mother was hungry to pour her time and energy into another project, in this case a random kid somehow more worthwhile than her own daughter. Not exactly an ego boost. She could see how her dad, strong in every other way, didn’t have the balls to stand up to her mother and keep this misfit from ruining their lives. And right now, Brynn could see all too clearly how her brother, who once upon a time was a cute, lovable kid, had become such an absolute loser that he would actually choose an anorexic hillbilly half mute over her.
She yanked open the freezer compartment and pulled out the ice cream containers: a new pint of Chunky Monkey (her brother’s favorite), a half-pint of Cherry Garcia (her dad’s), and a near-empty chocolate gelato. The quart of vanilla her mother always kept on hand didn’t count. It was so fucking symbolic that Brynn’s favorite dessert was the one they were out of. How hard was it to go shopping?
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She checked the screen: a text from Robby. They’d been exchanging texts and Snapchats practically every day since she’d found him on Tinder roulette two weeks ago, and they’d had one extremely memorable Skype session at the end of which he’d asked her to take off her shirt. She’d given him a flash—some boob—then said she had to go, which was sort of true since she could hear her parents coming upstairs. She hadn’t heard from him since.
ROBBY: Want to meet up sometime? Daytime’s fine if you’re scared of the dark. (smiley face)
BRYNN: Sounds dope! Maybe I’ll let you know, ok?
Meeting a college boy for who knows what. Her parents would die, but only if they knew.
Brynn got three spoons from a drawer and opened the gelato. “Ice cream’s in here!” She wasn’t about to take orders.
As Iris walked in, followed by Reid, a thought crossed Brynn’s mind. Being pissed off at Iris wasn’t going to do anything. Neither was blaming her parents or Reid. If Brynn wanted to get rid of Iris, she had to make everyone see how a kid like that was never going to fit in here. The social worker could find a different family, or Iris could just take her backpack and slink back into the woods. It didn’t matter to Brynn. What mattered was getting her life back, the one she had a right to. And it might be that the best way to accomplish that would be to make friends with Iris, or at least pretend.
“Iris,” Brynn said sweetly. “Which one of these do you like best?”
The girl gave her a look like she expected to get poisoned. Brynn couldn’t blame her but kept on smiling just the same.
CHAPTER 21
Morning sun angled through the kitchen window as Suzanne made phone calls and wrote emails at the counter. She was not keeping up and spent much of her time apologizing to the other members of the Boosters committee, the carpool moms, school personnel—everyone who had depended on her. No one felt more neglected nor voiced her disapproval more vocally than her mother—with the possible exception of Brynn. Suzanne rued the day she had promised Tinsley help with her charity fund-raiser, for which Suzanne had neither the energy nor the will. How was it that she had never considered refusing her mother or, indeed, the other requests? How automated she had become. She performed duties because she had been asked, or because it seemed to be required of her, a justification of her own relevance necessitated by the privilege she had been born into, a special shiny coating she had never thrown off. Tinsley didn’t seem to suffer from it, and Suzanne envied her that.
She closed her laptop. A wave of despondency and self-pity flowed through her, both unfamiliar emotions. Her hectic schedule had prevented the reflection necessary to breed such feelings, and that was a good thing. Now Suzanne had to be home almost all the time, tutoring and supervising Iris. There were few meetings and no lunches, no one-on-ones over coffee. Suzanne was as busy as before but nevertheless now found time to enter rabbit holes of self-examination and worry. Perhaps it wasn’t time, per se, but being forced to evaluate her life in order to explain it, justify it to Iris.
Suzanne rose, dismissing self-reflection in favor of action. She placed her coffee cup in the dishwasher and went upstairs to Iris’s room. The girl lay on the floor, gazing out the window at the sky. The healthier Iris became, the sadder she seemed. Weren’t the strongest animals at the zoo the ones that seemed to suffer the most? Suzanne had been trying to acclimate Iris to people, traffic, machinery, but progress had been slow, and it was easier most days simply not to bother. Even a walk down their street had the potential to traumatize the girl. A few days ago, a police car had suddenly appeared, lights flashing, siren wailing, and Iris had collapsed into a ball on the sidewalk, where she stayed for half an hour. Still, Suzanne couldn’t give up. They both needed to get out.
“Let’s go for a walk, okay?”
Iris didn’t move. “Walk to where?”
“I thought we’d take a short drive to a park.”
“A park?”
“A place with grass and trees, and no houses.”