Time (Laws of Physics #3)(68)

She opened her mouth, lifting a finger, seemed to reconsider whatever she was going to say, and let her hand drop. “Okay. Good point. Then that means we haven’t technically had a first date.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Now there’s all this pressure. The first date.” She made a face. “What did your parents do for their first date?”

“Um, let me see.” I glanced over her head, trying to recall the story. “Ah, yes. The way my mom tells it, she fancied my father, but he was very quiet, shy. So, one day after a football game—he was on the team in high school, but his parents were really poor and all the money he made from his job went back to the family, so he could never go out with everyone afterward for food—she met him at his car with a picnic. She told him he could take it and eat it on his own, if he wanted. Or, they could eat it together. They ate it together.”

Mona sighed. Deeply. “That’s so wonderful.”

I grinned, liking how her eyes were unfocused and dreamy. She’s such a romantic. But then, so was I.

Before I thought too much about it, I asked, “How about your parents?”

She blinked rapidly, her eyebrows pulling together, and straightened in her seat. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“No. I never asked. They never said. I don’t know. Anyway.” Mona broke off a piece of her donut and popped it into her mouth, chewing and swallowing. “Did they tell you about their second date?”

She was attempting to change the subject, but I’d made myself a promise to ask her about her family more often. She needed to know she could talk to me about them, good or bad.

“Mona, why don’t you talk about your parents?”

Her eyes dimmed. “There’s not much to say.”

“They’re not interesting?”

“Oh, they’re very interesting.” Under her breath she added, “They’re the most interesting people they know.”

Hmm. “Would it bother you if I asked questions about them?”

“Why are you suddenly so interested?”

“It’s not sudden. Not really. You never talk about your family, and in my experience—with my own family—they’re a fundamental part of who I am. I’m interested in you, everything about you. By extension, I’m interested in your parents, how they contributed to who you are.”

“Not every family is like yours, Abram. Not everyone’s parents are directly involved with, or even interested in, their children.”

“I find it really hard to believe your parents aren’t completely fascinated by you. I mean, you’re fucking amazing.”

“As we’ve established.” She flashed me a grin, there and gone, but her gaze remained troubled, or perhaps already exhausted by the subject of her family. “They’re not interested in me.” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “And that’s okay. They’re very busy. I understand that they have a lot of responsibilities and demands on their time. Being who they are, I consider myself lucky to—”

“You don’t believe that,” I cut in, because she was using her academic voice. It was the one she seemed to employ whenever she wanted to distance herself from the information she was sharing. “Why are you saying things you don’t believe?”

“I’m—I’m not.”

“You are. You don’t believe anything you’ve just said. It’s like you were reading from a script, saying the words you feel like you should say, even if they’re all false.”

She swallowed thickly, her eyes cagey, like she’d been caught.

I didn’t want her to feel trapped, I wanted her to know she could share this part of herself with me and be honest. Gentling my voice, I tried to reach her. “You can say they’re assholes, Mona. You can say they neglected you, if that’s the truth. Or you can say they didn’t neglect you, but that they weren’t what you needed, if that’s the truth. But trying to make the best of a situation in retrospect by telling lies about what actually happened, trying to reframe it, that’s like—God—that’s like putting a two-by-four in a fancy vase and trying to pass it off as a floral arrangement.”

Her mouth twitched, and then she laughed a little despite looking like she didn’t want to laugh. But she persisted in silence, saying nothing.

“What I’m saying here is, don’t put someone else’s spin on your life. Be honest, not just with me, but with yourself. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded slowly, swallowing again. “That makes sense.”

I waited, watching her, hoping my small smile was encouraging.

But she wasn’t looking at me. Her gaze moved around the restaurant. She scratched the back of her neck, her cheek, the bridge of her nose. She twisted her fingers and sighed, taking another deep breath just to sigh again.

And I waited.

Eventually, Mona cleared her throat, and then blurted, “They’re disappointing.” Huffing a laugh, she leaned her elbow on the table, her forehead falling to her hand. “They navigate the world very well. They live firmly within it, and are praised for always saying the right thing, being upset and outraged at the right time. They set trends, are edgy but not foolish, and their charisma is suffocating. I don’t actually know them very well, as people, but I don’t think they know themselves either.”