“So now the last thing you’d ever want ismoremoney,” he says, like he’s just solved some sort of mystery. “Especially alotmore money.”
“Leo,” I say with a frown. “Stop trying to psychoanalyze me.”
He laughs. “I’m just trying to figure out where you’re coming from,” he says as we start to walk again. “I do get it. At least somewhat. But I still think you’re nuts for turning down the money.”
I shrug. “Maybe I am. But it just feels like…I don’t know. It’s almost too much, isn’t it? I mean, I’m so happy for Teddy, and for Katherine, because I know they really need it. But if you had the choice, would you honestly want millions and millions of dollars, just like that, out of nowhere?”
“Yes,”Leo says, so emphatically that we both laugh. “I think if you asked a hundred people that question, they’d all say the same thing. They’d also fully expect to split the ticket, by the way. Which would be totally fair.”
“Isn’t it enough just to be excited for Teddy?”
“Maybe,” he says, softening. “But the universe owes you the same way it does him. Probably a lot more.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how it works.”
“You only think that,” he says, watching me intently, “because you’ve never had any faith in the world. Which makes sense, since it’s let you down in some really horrible ways. But what if this money was supposed to make it up to you? What if it was supposed to balance things out?”
“Leo,” I say, frustrated again. “Come on. You know there’s not enough money in the world for that. And besides, not everything happens for a reason. There’s no grand plan here. All I did was buy a ticket. And it wasn’t even for me. The whole thing was a complete coincidence.”
“Right,” he says insistently, “but it happened. So now you’d be crazy to miss out, especially just because you’re being stubborn.”
“I’m not being stubborn.”
He grins. “She says stubbornly.”
“Leo,” I say with a groan. “Enough.”
“Fine,” he says, holding up his hands. “If this is what you really want…then I guess I can live with it.”
“Thanks,” I say, shaking my head as the pizza place comes into sight, the awning weighed down by snow and the window foggy with steam. “That’s really big of you.”
“It would’ve been fun, though, you know?” he says as he hops up the steps to the entrance. “All those piles of money. Caribbean vacations on private jets. Skyboxes at Wrigley Field. Fancy cars. A stupidly big yacht. Our very own camel.”
I laugh, thinking about Teddy’s theory that I’d want an ostrich.
“I feel like that’s a thing, right?” Leo says. “Rich people all have weird pets.”
“Uncle Jake won’t even let you get a dog.”
He shrugs as he pulls open the door. “That’s because he’s allergic. I’m sure he’d be thrilled with a camel. It’d save him from having to mow the lawn.”
Leo stands there waiting for me to walk inside, but I’ve stopped short, suddenly deep in thought. Because the minute I said Uncle Jake’s name, the realization came crashing over me: that less than an hour ago I was offered millions of dollars, and in my rush to turn it down, I somehow forgot to consider the two people who had welcomed me into their home all those years ago with no expectations whatsoever.
Leo is frowning at me. “Are you coming?”
From inside the restaurant there’s a blast of warm air and the scent of garlic. But I hesitate, suddenly panicky. “Actually, I’m gonna run next door and get some gum.”
He shrugs. “Sure.”
“Want anything?”
“Yeah,” he says, cracking a smile. “How about a lottery ticket?”
I give him a withering look. “Funny.”
But as I walk to the convenience store at the end of the block, my stomach is churning. I try to remember what Aunt Sofia’s face looked like after I refused the money, whether Uncle Jake seemed angry with me. After nine whole years of supporting me, of breakfasts and lunches and dinners, beach vacations and summer camp, ski trips and school fees, doctor visits and phone bills, books and computers and music—all those things that make up a life, all of which come at a price—how could they not be interested in a portion of that money? And how did it not occur to me to ask them?
Leo was clearly right. If I’m an island, there’s no one to blame but myself.
