What Happens Now(67)

The crunching stopped. After a pause, Camden said earnestly, “You’re lucky you have a family to have bullshit with.”

I felt my ears turn red, glad he was not there to see it. I swallowed hard. “Point taken.”

“Sorry. My mom called a little while ago. It was a weird one. She’s feeling lonely.”

“What did she say?”

“She said, ‘I’m feeling lonely.’ She also said, ‘Come stay with me for the rest of the summer.’”

I wasn’t moving, but I froze anyway.

“What did you say?”

“I said no.” He paused, and I heard him take a shuddering breath. “I guess there’s a first time for everything. But I don’t want to quit the hotline; they need me. I have responsibilities and plans. And you. She understood. Or at least, she did a good job of faking it.”

There was victory in his tone, like he’d struggled and won.

“Who’s there with you tonight?” I asked.

“Just Jamie. Eliza’s mad at me for not believing her about the paints, and Max didn’t want to get in the middle.”

I didn’t want to talk about Eliza. Hearing her name made all the Bad Things about the day come creeping into my little bed fort. By way of diversion I said, “You know, Kendall’s crushing hard on Jamie. She has no idea if the feeling is mutual.”

Camden started crunching again. “Jamie’s a hard one to read. He got his heart stomped on pretty hard last year. Do you want me to do some reconnaissance?”

“Sure,” I said. “No, wait. Don’t.” Then I thought of Kendall’s slumping shoulders at the beach, the way she’d said You’ve got your king. “Then again, yes. If you could casually mention something . . .”

“Done,” said Camden. “Kendall’s great. He shouldn’t leave her confused.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t want to hang up. It was snug and perfect under the covers, and Camden’s voice against my ear felt so very much mine. “What part of Time Enough did you get up to today?”

“Bram and Azor just got cast as extras in a gangster movie.”

“Oh, that’s a great scene. Will you read it to me?”

I could almost hear him smile on his end of the phone.

“Our phone calls keep getting weirder,” he said.

“Not weirder,” I said. “Better.”

He began to read.

I woke up late the next morning, after Mom had already left for work. On the kitchen counter was a shopping list for later, and instructions that I’d find Dani’s camp lunch and snacks in the fridge. I could hear Dani’s cartoons on the TV in the family room. Richard sat at the table, reading the paper with his coffee cup pressed to his chest like something precious.

He looked up at me with red eyes rimmed with dark circles. He wasn’t sleeping again. There was probably a blanket and pillow on the couch. So much for Mom’s bed-sharing promises.

“She told you about Eliza,” I said. Richard nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. You did the right thing, by getting it back on the shelf. I get why you didn’t want me to know.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“But I told your mother about letting you go to the lake.”

“What? Why?”

“I had to. She guessed it and asked me point-blank. She’s my wife, Ari, I’m not going to lie to her. Especially not these days, when everything’s already so . . . difficult.”

I sank down onto a chair.

“I put it all on myself,” said Richard. “I explained how I urged you to go. So she’s mad at both of us, if that’s any consolation. But it means I can’t fight for you on this convention thing.”

I stared at him. He couldn’t look me in the eye.

“It’s a moot point anyway, with her training session—” he began.

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Mom gave me the same official line. You don’t need to repeat it.”

I never acted this way toward Richard. I never huffed or hissed or pouted. He looked genuinely hurt.

“Ari, this stuff is not easy for me,” he said, rubbing his eyebrow. “I try not to get between you and your mother. I don’t have a right. But I see things that should have been dealt with a long time ago, before your depression, and they’re still not dealt with, and it scares me.”

It scares me, too, I wanted to say. And also, What things?

“Thanks for sharing,” was all I did say, avoiding his glance. This was too much, too much when I was already running so late I didn’t have time to eat breakfast and I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and Camden’s voice reading Time Enough still echoed in my ear. I grabbed the car keys and shouted down to Dani. “We’re leaving in two minutes! Your shoes had better be on!”

“Ari?” asked Richard, turning my name into an open-ended question.

I grabbed Dani’s lunch and snack from the fridge, stuffed them in Dani’s backpack and zipped it up, then grabbed my bag.

“See you at the store,” I snapped, rushing to the foyer to find Dani struggling with her shoes. I bent down and shoved one on, then the other, then opened the door for her. All without looking her in the eye. Miraculously, she followed.