Aftermath(26)

So I know why she was so kind to me then. Now, though? Now she has every reason to be no more than civil. But she gives me that hug – in front of everyone – and she gives me her number, and I want to cry. I just want —

“There you are.” Jesse’s voice floats over. “I thought I saw you guys sneak —”

He sees me and stops short.

“I believe you remember Skye?” his mother says, her voice lilting with sarcasm, and even if I can’t see her face, I know she’s giving him a look.

“I was just inviting Skye to join us for dinner,” she says.

“What?” Jesse says.

She speaks slowly, as if he needs it. “We are going out to dinner, and I am inviting Skye to join us.”

“I —” Jesse says. “I can’t. Homework. I’ve got homework.”

“And you’re actually intending to do it? I’d be thrilled to hear that… if it wasn’t Friday, and your homework can’t possibly be due until Monday.”

“It’s fine,” I cut in. “I appreciate the offer, but my aunt’s expecting me.”

“A cold drink, then,” she says. “Afterward, I’ll drop you at your aunt’s.”

“You guys can,” Jesse says. “I have to stick around. Team meeting.”

“Really? Since when —”

“That’s fine,” I say. “Really. I do appreciate the offer, but I’m already running late. Mae expected me right after school. Another time?”

Jesse mumbles something, and before I can make it clear that I’m talking to his mother – not him – he turns to go. His dad takes a step that way, as if to speak to him, but Jesse has broken into a lope, already out of reach.

“I am so sorry,” Dr. Mandal says. “That was completely unacceptable.”

“No, it’s fine. This has been hard on him. I get that.”

Her lips tighten. “That is no excuse. I’ll speak to him, Skye. Clear up this nonsense.”

“No,” I blurt, in genuine alarm. “Please. Don’t. It’s tough, and he’s having trouble with me being back, and sure, I’d like to talk to him —”

Did I just say that? Not helping, really not helping.

I hurry on, “But there’s no rush. I’ll be here all year.” I try for a smile. “We’ll be fine.”

Just fine. Just fine. Everything’s fine. Really, really, really.

“I should go,” I mumble. “I’m sorry if I caused any trouble.”

“You haven’t done anything, Skye,” Mr. Mandal says. “We’re the ones who are sorry. If Jasser is…”

He trails off and his wife finishes, “If Jasser is being an ass. That’s what my husband is too polite to say.”

I sputter a laugh at her language, and she gives me another quick hug and says, “Come to tea tomorrow, Skye.”

I tense. “I —”

“Tea with me. Only me. Aftab will find some excuse to take Jasser out, and however cranky our son has become, he’s still a boy who does as he’s told. They’ll have a father-son afternoon, and you’ll come to tea, and we won’t talk about Jasser.”

“I —”

“This isn’t a trick, Skye. Aftab won’t ‘accidentally’ bring Jasser home early while you’re there. I’d just like to talk. To catch up. Can we do that?”

I nod and agree to come by tomorrow at two.

I’m standing outside the Mandal house. It’s almost two, and I don’t want to be late, but I’m not sure I can do this. I feel the weight of Dr. Mandal’s number in my pocket. I can call. Text even. Tell her I can’t make it.

The house hasn’t changed. Not one bit. It’s a beautiful home, an old two-story on a street I know well. We used to live in a place not much different from this, on a similar street, so quiet I can hear leaves rustling in the autumn breeze. One pirouettes down beside me and brings voices from the past.

“Jasser? Can you rake the leaves for your dad? He hasn’t had a chance since his promotion and – Oh, Skye. I didn’t know you were here. Never mind, then. You two go play.”

“Uh, we’re thirteen, Mom,” Jesse says. “A little old for playing.”

“You know what I mean. Why don’t I take you two to a movie? My treat.”

“We’ll do the leaves first,” I say.

“And then I’ll take you guys to a movie,” Dr. Mandal says.

“Sure. I’ve got my own money, though.”

“True, but if you’re raking leaves, I’m paying you for it. That payment will be a ticket and popcorn and soda. Or you don’t get to rake my leaves.”

We went to see an overblown sci-fi flick and snickered at the ridiculousness of it. Jesse’s mom took us – “chaperoning” – but she sat a few rows back. Jesse and I whispered all through the movie, sharing our popcorn, and sometimes we reached into the bag at the same time, hands brushing, and my cheeks would heat, and maybe that should seem silly now, but it doesn’t.

The more I’m in Riverside – revisiting places that remind me of Jesse, doing things that remind me of us – the more I remember how I felt about him, which wasn’t childish or silly at all.