Two Truths and a Lie(80)

“Listen, when you go to college I want you to take a break from this. I’m not saying stop it forever, but promise me for at least the first semester you’ll concentrate on school, and making friends, and all of the things you’re supposed to be doing in college.”

Alexa said nothing.

“Alexa? I need you to promise.”

In a very tiny voice, so tiny it could have been coming from a far corner of the eating area, or even from the outer reaches of the marshes, Alexa said, “I’m not going to college.”

“I’m sorry,” said Rebecca. “What?”

“You don’t owe that first tuition payment. Don’t pay it. We don’t owe it. I’m not going.”

“What do you mean? You mean you’re not going as in you want to take a gap year?” Rebecca was against gap years but she tried really hard to be open-minded, the way Peter might have been.

“I turned down my spot.”

“You what?” The background noise receded; it was as if both Rebecca and Alexa had gone into portrait mode, with everything around them slightly blurry and unimportant.

“I turned down my spot. I have a plan. I want to move to L.A.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You can’t tell me absolutely not. I’m almost an adult.”

“Yes I can. You’re not moving to L.A. No way, Alexa. No way. You shouldn’t have given up Colby without talking to me about it. We should have discussed this.” She couldn’t believe it! Alexa had taken her future, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it in the garbage. How had Rebecca not known she’d given up her place at Colby? She’d been too distracted by her own life, that was how. She’d failed.

Rebecca watched the old Alexa rear up, the defensive, contemptuous Alexa, the one that these past weeks with Cam had mellowed and calmed, and this version of Alexa spit back, “Oh yeah? Well, you should have told me that you’re seeing someone!”

Rebecca felt herself flush. “What do you mean?”

“You are, right? If you’re not, feel free to deny it.”

Rebecca stayed silent.

“I knew it! I saw a text on your phone, in June. And ever since then it’s been clear that you’re sneaking around.”

Rebecca remained silent, marveling at Alexa’s abilities to turn the tables.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Mom?”

Rebecca sighed and wiped her fingers neatly with a paper napkin, one by one. “Lots of reasons,” she said. “For one thing, I didn’t know if it was something lasting. For another, you know him.”

“I do? Who is it?”

Here we go, thought Rebecca. From here on in there’s no going back. “Mr. Bennett. He teaches at the high school.”

Alexa looked horrified. “Mr. Bennett, my Intro to the Stock Market teacher Mr. Bennett?”

“Former Intro to the Stock Market teacher.”

“Ew, Mom. Really?”

Rebecca held up her hand. “Maybe this is why I didn’t tell you. This reaction, right here.”

“I’m sorry!” said Alexa. “Sorry, I am. It’s just—I mean. First of all. Do you call him Mr. Bennett?”

“No. Of course not. Daniel. I call him Daniel, which is his name. I just called him Mr. Bennett because that’s how you know him. And I haven’t told anyone. I wasn’t sure if people would think it wasn’t long enough after Peter, or too long, or the wrong person, or what. I just didn’t feel like dealing with people’s questions, or comments. And Morgan—I didn’t think she was ready. Also, if you can believe it, Daniel’s ex-wife is Gina’s husband’s sister. It all just felt too close to home.”

Alexa winced. “Wet sleeping bag Gina?”

“Wet sleeping bag Gina. And I guess the final reason is that even in the middle of all of this, meeting someone new, laughing with someone new, I still miss Peter.”

Alexa took a sip of her drink and then met Rebecca’s eyes. “I know,” she said. “I know you do. I do too.” She paused. “You know, I talked to Peter about not going right to college. Just before he died. I was thinking of it even back then, even before I started Silk Stockings.”

Rebecca was torn between feeling intrigued about that conversation and envious that it hadn’t been with her. “What did he say?”

“He was really supportive. I mean, he wasn’t like, yeah, gap year! Definitely! But he was willing to keep the conversation going. He was definitely willing to think about it. And then all of a sudden he was gone.” She gave a little shuddering breath that again called to Rebecca’s mind the eight-year-old with the self-portrait. “I miss him a lot too, Mom.”

“What do you miss about him?”

Alexa looked like she was thinking about this. “He was so patient when he taught me to parallel park—remember? In that parking lot across from the Towle building? I ran over those cones the first thirty times I tried it and we got chased out of there by the cops because officially the parking lot is private. He was always so—so nice.” She swiped at a tear. “That sounds lame, but it’s the right word for what I’m trying to say. He was so kind. I wish he was my real father.”