Invincible Summer(45)

“It’s Melinda,” Claudia says.

Fuck. “What does she want?”

“She didn’t say. She’s calling, like, all the time, isn’t she?”

“She probably misses Noah.”

“What do you have to do with her and Noah?”

“God, Claudia, I don’t know.” It’s not a lie. “She’s probably just going to ask me when he’s coming home and I’ll tell her I don’t know and she’ll whine at me and . . .” We’ll have sex.

“Watch Gid for a minute, okay?”

I take the phone upstairs and close the door to my room before I lift it to my ear. “Hello?”

She’s breathing like she’s crying.

I should ask what’s wrong. I should be pissed off like usual. But I’m not, not this time.

I hope she doesn’t say anything.

She doesn’t.

I sit against the door and slide down, holding the phone to my ear. I breathe back.

For God knows how long, we sit there. Breathing. s e v e n t e e n

E verything gets better when Noah comes home. It always does. He’s been gone so long that, instead of being mad, we’ve all looped back and are just happy to see him. Mom and Dad suggest we celebrate, and we order in pizza, because that’s how we celebrate, clearly, now that restaurants are taboo. Not that anyone’s said this out loud.

Of course.

“Stop it, Chase,” Noah says, because I’m looking at him like I think he’s grown since the last time I’ve seen him. “It’s been three days.”

I wonder if he got my message, finally.

“I missed you,” I say.

He laughs, serving pizza to the kids. “You know who really missed me?”

“Uh, Melinda. She’s been chasing me ever since we took Luce to the hospital.” I’m back to hating her. I thought we were done. I gave her Noah’s shirt and everything. Honestly, what does this girl want from me?

“Yes, indeed,” he says. “Oh, she missed me, all right.”

Claudia’s picking through the mail—we get it diverted here, otherwise it’d be a f*cking disaster by the time we get home— and she picks one letter out and pinches it between her fingers like it’s one of Lucy’s diapers. “Letter from college, No.”

Noah plucks the letter from Claudia’s hand and reads it leaning against the refrigerator, munching on a banana. He always eats fruit before he eats junk food, ever since he was a kid. It’s like a deviation on a salad for a kid who can’t be normal about anything.

I go over to check on Lucy, who’s asleep on the couch.

She’s worn out with the fever that came with the ear infection. Gideon’s getting lazy too, and even dizzier than usual, so we’re checking his forehead a lot and keep looking at his ears, which completely baffles him. Ears fine he tells us. Ears plastic. Mom and Dad are quipping over whose onions are per—

vading whose onion-free slice, but they’re arguing like high schoolers doing that Stooooop it, no you stoooop it thing. It makes me happy and itchy all at the same time. I wonder if they’re about to make out over the pizza, and I wonder how I would feel about that. I know I wouldn’t feel comfortable eating it anymore. The pizza, I mean.

I go back to the counter and stand next to Claudia as she sifts through the mail. Her hair’s all sweaty and she smells like Noah’s banana. “There is nothing interesting in this mail.”

“Shame,” I say, and she elbows me. She’s in a good mood because she and Shannon are now going steady. I honestly wonder what decade they’re living in, but it’s hard to be cynical when you remember that summers always feel about twenty years behind actual time, anyway. And I’m very proud of Shannon’s ability to stay innocent.

Noah stretches and finishes his banana. “Pizza.” He gently moves Mom out of the way, kissing her temple. “Stop flirting with my father for a second, darling.”

She rolls her eyes like Claudia does. “Oh, all right.”

“What’s the letter?” I ask.

He tosses it to me and drops a kiss on Gideon’s head on his way past the table. “Schedule for next year.”

There are so many acronyms on this page that it takes me a minute to figure out that these are practically all ASL

classes.

I fold the page halfway. “Noah?”

He smiles at me, at Mom and Dad, at all of us. “I’m going to be a sign language major.”

My parents look like they’ve just discovered that the innocent-looking onions they were so playfully fighting over actually have a hidden agenda. Mom’s eyebrows are all bunched together, and Dad looks about ten years younger, just like he always does when he’s confused. Gideon’s face with blond hair.

I say, “Noah, that’s awesome!”

He smiles at me. “Figured my lack of knowledge is a problem I need to fix. Since Lucy’s starting to sign better than I do.”

This is an exaggeration. Lucy’s only signs are bad Gideon, I love you, and no, which gives you a good summary of their relationship.

Still, I’m grinning all over the place. “Noah, that’s awesome. That’s awesome, Noah. You’re totally going to have to teach me once you‘re fluent.”