Two Truths and a Lie(68)

“Also it’s bathing suit season,” agreed Morgan. To Bernice she said, “I’m sorry,” and rubbed the top of her head. “I know, the struggle is real.”

Rebecca was only half listening, because she had caught sight of a calendar item on her phone: first tuition payment for Colby due on the fifteenth of August. She hadn’t gotten a bill, though. It must have been sent through the student portal—she’d heard another parent complaining recently about how colleges communicated with students more than parents even though parents were obviously the ones paying. It was ironic, since the complaint about this generation of parents was that they did too much for their children.

When she looked up she saw a figure with a familiar stride moving toward them on the other side of the street. Daniel. She tried to catch his eye and shake her head warningly, but he was smiling broadly and had his hand lifted in a wave. No, she thought. No, no, no. Then she realized he wasn’t looking at her at all. “Hello, Ms. Thornhill!” she heard him say in his teacher voice, and he moved on down the street without so much as a glance their way. (Even as she was relieved, Rebecca was also just the teeniest bit insulted.)

“It’s Alexa,” said Morgan. “Look, Alexa’s over there. Let’s go over.”

“Let’s stay here.” Rebecca didn’t want to risk Bernice recognizing Daniel; Bernice could be capricious and occasionally standoffish, but she and Daniel walked together in Maudslay often enough that she thought Bernice might greet Daniel with a telltale tail thump. A telltail thump.

“She’s with a boy,” reported Morgan. “She’s holding hands with a boy who isn’t Tyler. She’s holding hands with the boy we went to Canobie Lake with.”

“She broke up with Tyler,” said Rebecca. Alexa had told Re becca the story—@silvergurl, the argument in the parking lot of the Cottage—but apparently she hadn’t told Morgan. She turned. It was all true. Alexa was holding hands with a boy who wasn’t Tyler.

“Over here!” Morgan called. “Alexa, come over here!”

Alexa crossed the street, dropping hands with the boy, who followed one step behind. The boy had blond hair. He wore khaki shorts and a golf shirt. In Rebecca’s day he would have been called preppy, but she didn’t know if that was a term anyone used any longer. Probably not. Most of the terms and phrases she had once used had sailed away on a stiff breeze. Cheesy. Dweeb. Nobody puts baby in a corner.

“Hey, Mom,” said Alexa. “Hi, Morgs.” She knelt down and greeted Bernice. “This is Cam,” she said, gesturing to the boy. She shot Rebecca a look that said, Not now, no questions, so Rebecca just smiled and shook the hand Cam held out. Cam looked directly at Rebecca when he greeted her, which she appreciated. Tyler had always looked down.

“Morgan and I are acquainted,” Cam says. “Nice to see you again, Morgan.”

“We’re going to get poke bowls,” said Morgan. “If you want to come.”

“We just had smoothies,” said Cam. “But I love the Kai bowl.”

“Did you get straws with your smoothies?” asked Morgan.

“Compostable,” said Alexa, and Morgan looked relieved.

“I’m trying to get this one to go to the driving range with me,” Cam said, pointing to Alexa. “But so far she’s resisting.”

Rebecca expected Alexa to roll her eyes at that but when she looked at her daughter, she saw that her face was—well, for lack of a better word, alight. Glittering with something familiar. It was only after Cam and Alexa had continued down the road that Rebecca realized that Alexa’s face was a mirror image of how her own often felt since she’d started seeing Daniel: it was the rudimentary, timorous, budding image of genuine happiness.

Morgan, Rebecca, and Bernice crossed the street and paused in front of the dress shop.

“That would look pretty on Alexa,” said Morgan, pointing at a dress.

“You think so? It’s not really her style, though. Don’t you think it’s sort of conservative?” The dress had capped sleeves and diagonal stripes in alternating colors, purple, dark green, and black. It was pretty, but it looked a little lawyerly. Alexa generally favored ripped denim shorts and spaghetti-strap tank tops, or, when she dressed up, dresses and tops that only a teenager could pull off. And not just any teenager.

Morgan pursed her lips and studied the dress. “Not for every day,” she said finally. “But it would be perfect for Silk Stockings.”

“For what?”

“For Silk Stockings. Alexa’s YouTube channel.”

“I’m sorry,” said Rebecca. “For what?”

Morgan looked like a teacher who had to explain a very basic concept to a particularly slow student. “Her YouTube channel,” she said. “Where she explains about the stock market and stuff. We all watch it. Me and my friends. Don’t you watch it too?”

This was how Rebecca knew she was thrown entirely off guard: she didn’t make Morgan repeat her sentence with my friends and I.





50.





Sherri


On a Wednesday in the beginning of August Sherri went to meet her transition counselor, Louise, at the mall. It was really nice, that they gave you a follow-up visit with your counselor to see how you were getting along in your new life. She was trying to find the silver lining in every situation. My witness protection program comes with free follow-up at no additional cost! I would definitely recommend this program to a friend!