We select our ice cream cones—hers pralines and cream, which somehow fits. It requires a sophisticated palate. Totally contrary to what I’d expect of Mira, so of course that’s the one she selects just to fuck with my head.
I ask for a strawberry/cookies ’n’ cream double-decker, and I hand the server a twenty. My own flavor combo is an acquired taste.
“Hey, I wanted to pay for that.” Mira stares at the twenty-dollar bill as it disappears into the cash register and the attendant hands me the change.
“You can get me next time,” I tell her.
She tucks her cash back in the small turquoise wallet I notice is missing the zipper tab. Why these little things—the broken suitcase, buying only sale items, a beat-up wallet—bother me, I don’t know. But they do. They really fucking do. She lived with a wealthy family most of her life, but that doesn’t seem to have changed the way she lives or her mindset about what she has.
This girl shouldn’t have the responsibility of caring for a druggie mother. She shouldn’t be in debt because of said mother, and forced to fend off people like Asshole.
We take a booth, and I study her face. “Why won’t you tell Lewis the truth?”
She pauses before licking her cone. “He doesn’t understand why I help my mom. And it’s not his fault I owe the money. It’s my responsibility to pay it back.”
“It’s not your fault you owe the money, either.”
Her eyes flicker to me. “Of course it is. I borrowed it.”
“Everyone needs help sometimes.”
She doesn’t say anything at first. She shifts in her seat. “Lewis already gave me money for the loan. I asked him for half. I’ll pay off the rest.”
“Only half? For your nonexistent gambling problem. That’s a good one, Mira, considering you have issues around spending money on yourself.”
The side of her mouth notches back in annoyance. “Do you know how awful it felt to ask him for money that indirectly pays for my mother’s cocaine problem? It was wrong of me to do it. I shouldn’t have gone to him. If he knew the truth, he’d be so angry. He’s been telling me to stay away from her for years. To cut the tie. One of these days he’s going to cut the tie with me instead.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I say automatically.
She stares at her ice cream without saying anything.
This conversation has gotten entirely too serious. I never meant to tell Mira about my dad, whom I never talk about. And I didn’t mean to bring up anything painful for Mira and make her feel worse about the situation she’s in.
“You should give Lewis more credit. He’s a good guy. He wouldn’t ditch you because he was mad. You don’t get rid of family, and that guy thinks of you as his sister.”
“Exactly.”
Huh? She’s agreeing with me?
“You don’t give up on family,” she says lightly. “What kind of person would I be if I gave up on my mom?”
I just fucked myself there. “A smart one? Look, of course you don’t want to hurt your mom, but you can’t let people use you. And that woman uses you.”
“I know. I’m working on it. I’m making changes.” She gives me a weary smile. “Let’s not talk about this anymore, okay? Let’s just enjoy our ice creams.”
I nod. I don’t want to make Mira feel worse, so I drop it.
But my efforts to spare Mira from thinking about her mom are for nothing. When we return to the house, as if her ears pricked at our conversation at the ice cream parlor, Mira’s mother is sitting on our porch patio, smoking a cigarette. There’s no car in the driveway, but the jalopy she pulled up in the other day is parked down the street.
I glance at Mira, who’s collecting her bags from my car and watching her mom nervously out of the corner of her eye. “Want me to ask her to leave?”
Mira peers up in surprise. Because I would ask her mom to leave? Hell yes, I would. That woman doesn’t deserve Mira.
She shakes her head. “No. I’ll talk to her.”
Chapter Nineteen
Mira
