Invincible Summer(33)

Noah slams his knife on the table. Gideon jumps, staring at Noah’s face.

“Just say it!” Noah says. “Fucking say it already!” Dad says, “Noah, you watch your mouth!”

“Will you folks be having any dessert tonight?” the waitress asks. Where the hell did she come from?

Probably one of us says no, thank you—probably Claude— but it feels like we just stare at her until she goes away.

Dad takes this shaky breath, then he turns and gives me this little smile. “You’re right, Katie. All right. It’s Chase and Lucy’s birthday, okay? Let’s forget about this and—”

Noah says, “And, what? Not talk? Not talk? No! Say it. We all know it, okay, so just say it!”

I can’t figure out why Claudia’s not holding my hand anymore, then I see her translating for Gideon, who’s watching her hands like they’re better than a million octopuses.

I wish she’d stop. He doesn’t need to hear this.

Mom and Dad look at each other and my whole chest is

going pleasenopleasenopleaseGodno

“We’re getting a divorce, guys,” Dad says.

All my dinner’s hanging out between my stomach and my throat, and every single one of my siblings looks the same, even Lucy, even Claudia. And I know, by Noah’s face, that even though he knew it, he didn’t believe it, even though we all knew it, we were all holding on, somehow, hoping they’d keep trying, that they could just keep on living and fighting.

We trusted them to do that. “No,” Claudia says. “Just keep trying, okay? Don’t give

up, what the hell. This isn’t like a do-it-yourself project gone wrong or . . . or a game of spider solitaire.” She signs spider. “You wouldn’t let us give up on marriage. This will get better.”

“Just like, give it another go,” Noah says. “Until we’re all in college, at least. Do some goddamn couples therapy. Try actually working out what’s wrong, for God’s sake. Maybe it’s good you got this out in the open. . . .”

I nod. “You hear all the time about people staying together for the kids. That could be you guys!”

Mom puts her hand on her forehead, and her voice is all pinched and whiny and awful. “We did that for nineteen years, Chase.”

“No, no, come on, please,” I say.

“It’s Chase’s birthday,” says Claudia. “And Lucy . . . ”

I whisper, “Lucy doesn’t know what’s going on.”





Family together us together


“We’ll make it better!” Claudia says. “What do we need to do? I’ll keep my clothes on.”

I say, “I’ll . . . tie up Lucy and make her stop crying.”

Gideon signs hear and Noah and I are the only ones who see, and we completely drop everything and stare at each other for a second, our lips barely open. Dad laughs, a little. “Come on, guys. Don’t act like you

didn’t see this coming.”


I can’t even believe how gross Gideon’s leftover French fries look. He’s ripping one up with his hands, not looking at anyone.

In the booth next to us, someone’s laughing, and I’m suddenly aware that we’re surrounded by families. These families that are chatting and laughing, ha ha ha, the ones that looked at us and smiled and were jealous of our two birthdays. These families are all around us. They’re not a myth.

Families that talk.

Noah whispers, “No one’s asked about who’s going where.”

I say, “What?”

“Custody.”

Custody.

This is a word for other people.

Holding up my head is no longer an option. I sink down and put my forehead next to my stupid plate, and Claudia’s hand is in my hair, she’s going, “Shh, shh . . . ”

Dad says, “We didn’t want you all to have to travel back and forth. I’m going to get a place in the city, and with school . . .”

“You can’t split us up,” Noah says. “We don’t do that shit.”

Dad raises his eyebrows. “This coming from you?”

Mom says, “Noah, baby.” “I’m in college!” he says. “I can come home wherever I want, you guys can’t change that! You can’t tell me where to go!”

“Noah, shut up!” my father says.

Noah does.

And now we all fit the pieces together.

Dad hates Noah.

Lucy needs to be with Mom.

Dad doesn’t know sign language.

I’m my father’s favorite, Claudia would never live somewhere without me. . . .

And so there it is. We’ve already been divided. We’ve been divided the same way for years. Blonds against brunets.

I look up at Noah, and he’s looking at me, too. He breathes out very slowly.

At some point, the waitress brings Lucy and me these little matching chocolate cakes, and she totally annihilates hers with her baby fists. I give her mine, too, and we watch her keep smashing.

Melinda answers the door with a book in her hand.

I say, “Shut up,” before she can say anything, and I kiss her with every bit of anything in me.

We roll around like animals in horrible, horrible heat. I barely get out of her bed for three days. t h i r t e e n