The Sweetness of Salt(18)

“I don’t know why you always shut me out,” Zoe said. “I told you about my mom. You’re the only one too.”

I thought about this for a moment. It was true. The real reason Zoe and Milo’s parents had moved across the country so abruptly two years ago was because their father had discovered their mother was having an affair. The move was a last-ditch effort to keep their marriage together, but things were strained. The last time they had fought about it, Zoe said, her mother had started crying and said that she felt as though she was living in jail. Milo had never said anything to me about it.

“I know,” I said, stalling. “This is just…I don’t know. I guess I need a little time.”

Zoe plucked a blade of grass out from between her toes. “Does it have anything to do with Melissa’s party? With Milo and Cheryl, I mean?”

My stomach twisted at the sound of his name. “No.”

“Have you talked to Milo?”

“No,” I lied.

“There he goes,” Zoe said, pointing at the swings. I looked up. Zoe held her breath as the boy became airborne once again and then hurtled back down to earth. “Yes!” she whispered. The little boy scrambled back up to his feet and looked over in our direction. Zoe stuck her arm out, thumb up. “Awesome!” He grinned and clapped, and ran over to the swings again.

“He’ll do that jump a million times,” Zoe said. “Because now he knows he can.”

Neither of us said anything for a minute.

Then Zoe turned and looked at me. “What about the internship? Are you worried about that? I mean, is hanging around inside that courthouse something you really want to do all summer?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

“Fine.” Zoe said the word slowly, rolling it around in her mouth like a marble. “You say that a lot, you know that? What does fine mean, anyway?”

I stood up. “Listen, I gotta go.”

Zoe stood up too. “Don’t blow me off.”

“I’m not!” I turned my hands up. “Seriously. I just have things to do at home.”

“Like mope around in your room? Feel sorry for yourself?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged her off. “Because you know everything.”

Zoe stopped walking. “I know some of this is about Milo,” she called. “You should just tell him the truth, Julia.”

Now I stopped walking. “The truth about what?”

“How you feel.” Zoe crossed her arms. “I mean, how long are you two gonna go on like this, pretending that there wasn’t—and still isn’t—something between you?”

I could feel the blood rush to my neck and then spread across my cheeks. “What are you talking about? Did he say something?”

“Milo?” Zoe snorted. “Milo doesn’t say two words to me unless you’re around. But he doesn’t have to. God, it’s so obvious you guys are crazy about each other. Why don’t you just…”

“Stop, okay?” I said. “Could you just stop for ten seconds? As usual, you have no idea what you’re talking about, but you just talk and talk and talk anyway. It’s not what’s bothering me anyway.”

“So what is bothering you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I turned around again, walking toward the entrance of the park.

Zoe grabbed my arm. “Julia.”

“God!” I shouted. “Lay off, will you? It’s like you just like to hear yourself talk and most of the time you’re talking about nothing!”

Zoe steadied her bottom lip with her teeth.

“I’m tired of listening to nothing, okay, Zoe? I’m not built that way. I need quiet. I need to think. I like to be alone. So if you want to be my friend, do that for me, okay? Just leave me alone. Let me have some peace and quiet. For once.”

I strode away from her, looking straight ahead.

“You’re just afraid!” She called after me.

I winced as the words hurtled through the air between us, and then subconsciously raised one shoulder, as if to ward them off. But they rang in my ears as I kept walking, and then settled in beside me, an unwelcome passenger, as I got back into the car.





chapter


12


I drove around for a long time after leaving Zoe at the park. My destination was anywhere but home. I knew as soon as I set foot inside the house that Mom and Dad would be all over me. I didn’t know what I wanted right now, but I knew I didn’t want to talk to them. They would insist on a discussion about Maggie, pushing the issue until every last question had been raised and then answered. Dad would insist on “resolving the matter,” as if it were just another court case that he had to sift through, complete with an appeal to the jury. Except that the appeal would be to me this time and I knew he would not stop—he would not rest his case—until I assured him that I understood.

Well, I didn’t understand. I doubted if I would ever understand. And nothing they could say or do was going to change that.

I already knew Mom and Dad and Sophie had had a whole life before me in Milford. Even the revelation about Maggie wasn’t what was ripping away inside of me right now. It was that they’d kept it from me. All three of them. For seventeen years. Mom and Dad said it was to protect me. But what was Sophie’s reason? It was her silence that really bothered me, I realized, making a right on Amsterdam Avenue. I’d never known Sophie to be silent about anything.