What Happens Now(66)

My mother sighed. “I would like to meet her. But this is all a moot point. The thing is, Ari, I found out that I have a required training session at work that Saturday. We need you to be with Danielle.”

It was as if this information was something she’d thrown into the air between us and lit on fire. We stood there for a speechless few seconds, watching it burn.

“You just found this out.”

“Well, I found out on Friday. But I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell you yet. I knew how much you were looking forward to the convention.”

“It’s more than a ‘looking forward to’ thing, Mom. They’re depending on me for the group cosplay. . . .”

“Sweetie,” she said in a decidedly unsweetened tone. It was a tone that welcomed no more comments. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? I need to eat and your sister is waiting for you.”

She turned to leave, then stopped halfway out the door, turned back around.

“You had Dani with you when you put the paint set back. Exactly when did this girl give it to you?”

For the record, I didn’t want to lie. I’d gotten this far without it. But when you’re in a corner, you’re in a corner.

“She knew I picked up Dani at camp,” I said after a second, “so she found me there to give it back.”

Mom looked at me for a long time, then slowly closed her eyes. She took a deep breath.

“God, I’m tired.”

And then she left the room.

At first I thought Dani was asleep when I stepped through her doorway, and I thought, lucky break. But I must have put my weight on the One Creaky Floorboard and her eyes fluttered opened.

“Ari?” she asked.

“It’s me.” I sat on her bed. “Did you give Mom the lanyard?”

Her mouth curved down. “No. I left it at the store.”

I got it, then. Without this offering to the mother she hadn’t seen in twenty-four hours, something that would capture her attention and get a reaction, Dani had reached for a replacement. Perhaps that’s why she’d held on to what she saw me do at the store, knowing instinctively that it might have value. I’d done the same when I was her age. A hundred times over. A thousand.

But I’d never done it at the expense of someone else I loved. At least, I didn’t think so.

“Will you sing me a song?” she asked, her voice high and squeaky in the semidarkness.

“I thought you only wanted a kiss good night.”

“A kiss and a song. Two songs.”

She’d had Mom read to her, and Richard come in to chuck her on the chin and tell her she was beautiful. Why couldn’t these things give her what she needed? Why was it always my closing act that finally filled up her void to the brim?

“Not tonight,” I said, leaning down to kiss her on the curved part of her nose, the part that felt like it was on a doll’s face. “My throat hurts.”

I’ll admit it. It felt good to deny her, to withhold what she took for granted.

“But Ari . . .”

“I said no.” More firmly now. I’d committed. I couldn’t waffle.

“But . . .”

“No.”

Suddenly, it was her perfect little mouth expecting, her eyes wanting, her hands grabbing, that embodied everything I resented about my family.

Yes, the normal rules of give-and-take back-and-forth don’t apply to a seven-year-old child. Yes, she didn’t understand how it wasn’t simply a song but so much she had no control over. I knew that intellectually. But this one time, because she was here in front of me and because I could, I needed to spread out my empty palms and say, Sorry, kid, I’m all out.

It was what filled my void right then.

“Good night,” I said. “See you in the morning.”

Then I walked out before she could say anything back.

“Shit,” said Camden on the phone when I told him.

I was in bed with the covers over my head. Here, I could make the world consist only of me and the voice of a boy I loved.

“This is what my life is like.” I tried to keep from sounding completely beaten down. I didn’t want his sympathy; I just wanted someone to bear witness. “I mean, really. Am I their daughter or their au pair?”

“Don’t blame your sister. She’s a little kid.”

“That’s precisely why it’s easier to blame her.”

“Maybe you can find her a babysitter for the day.”

“Who would I call? We’ve never needed a babysitter because, you know, me.”

“We’ll figure something out,” he said confidently. “You are going to the SuperCon. You are.”

We were quiet for a moment. I heard him breathe, then crunch on something.

“What are you eating?”

“White cheddar cheese crackers.”

“Great. As if it wasn’t already hard enough, that I’m not there with you.”

He laughed, then there was more silence as Camden crunched. This seemed absurdly sexy. I pictured him at his kitchen counter, so sure everything was going to be fine, able to eat cheese crackers or drink wine or do whatever the hell he wanted without needing it to be preauthorized.

“You’re lucky you don’t have family bullshit to deal with,” I said with a sigh.