Emery’s father didn’t want her (or her brother) to attend a fun Fourth of July picnic.
He had “plans” for his kids that made them run away.
Her mother seemed to be trying to give her an eating disorder.
Emery’s parents were either dimming her light on purpose or couldn’t even see it, which seemed impossible to me. She was luminous. A Class A1 star, for sure. But that was the kind of observation that got me funny looks and made me zero friends, so I kept it to myself.
“So, Xander,” Emery said after a minute, “you’re a genius and your dad’s a famous scientist who works for the government. What doesyour mom do?”
The potato salad in my mouth turned to gooey cement. “She works for the government too. The State Department.”
“Wow,” Emery said. “Where is—?”
“What do your parents do?” I asked, cutting her off before she askedthatquestion.
“My dad owns Wallace Industries. It’s a big textiles company. And my mom doesn’t do anything except hold charity events.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It’s just for show,” Emery said. “Mostly she throws dinner parties and stuff like that for Dad’s company.”
“Oh.” I struggled for something else to say and glanced behind us. At the picnic tables, boys shrieked and threw food at each other. “Which one is your brother Jack?”
Emery squinted in the falling light. “Don’t see him.” Her face fell again. “He didn’t want to come here. He wanted to search for Grant. They’re best buddies. I’m worried about him too.”
My giant IQ rarely failed me, but I was failing Emery. I didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. I’d already decided to never speak of my mother ever again, but Emery had told me about her brother. Maybe if I told her about Mom, she’d know that I understood a little of how she was feeling. Wasn’t that what friends did? Share the hard stuff so the other didn’t feel so alone?
Or she might wonder what was wrong with me that my mom didn’t want me.
“My mom…” I cleared my throat. “She left too.”
I braced myself for Emery to laugh at me, but she stared at me with a strange expression, almost as if she were scared.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she packed up her bags and drove away.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“This morning?”
Emery’s eyes actually filled with tears. Her crying made me want to cry, but I’d made a promise to myself, so I stuffed it down.
“It’s no big deal.”
“Yes, it is!” Emery cried. “She can’t just do that! Where did she go?”
“To Paris, I guess.” I sat up stiffly. “I don’t know for sure, and I don’t care.”
“Gosh, Xander, I’m so sorry.”
Emery threw her arms around me in a sudden hug, sending her dinner plate into the dirt at our feet. I froze, shocked by the comfort of her soft touch, how her little arms squeezed me as if she were trying to hug all the pain out.
After a moment, she let go and shook her head. “Wow, isn’t that weird? My brother and your mom? On the same day?”
I nodded. The odds were improbable, but even more improbable was that, out of all the kids at the park, this girl would choose to sit with me. “I hope your brother comes back, Emery.”
