32
MONDAY MORNING, I SIT ON OUR LIVING ROOMcouch with my school bag and a saran-wrapped loaf of chocolate chip banana, waiting. I might not be ready for a grand gesture, but after a night spent twisting and turning, racking my brain for a way to fix things with Max, I’m certain I can pull off a medium gesture. I hope it’ll be enough.
“Do you need to take my car today?” Meredith asks, surprising me. She’s standing under the living room’s archway, where a sprig of mistletoe once hung, and she’s holding Ally, who’s racked out—naturally, because no one else in the house is currently asleep. Mer’s wearing jeans and an emerald sweater, and she looks pretty in the morning light.
“No, thanks. Max will take me. I’m just waiting for Ivy to leave before I head over. I’ve got to talk to Bill and Marcy, and I don’t want her skulking around, acting like a she-devil.”
Meredith smiles. “She’s not so bad, is she?”
“Oh, she’s pretty bad.” I say this lightly, like it doesn’t bother me that Ivy takes Becky’s side in battles I don’t even want to be a part of, but it does. It bothers me a lot, because even though she and I have never shared a bond like the one I have with her brother, I assumed she cared in her own aloof way.
“What do you need to talk to Bill and Marcy about?”
“Max and me.”
She smiles. “Going public, finally?”
“To a select few.”
“I’m glad. Max obviously adores you.”
“But Dad…”
Meredith rolls her eyes, folding the hem of Ally’s blanket under. “Your dad’s hardly an authority on character these days.” She presses her lips together, then draws a breath. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“No,” I tell her. “It really wasn’t.”
Our shared gaze holds. She looks both mystified and melancholy, like she’s trying to figure out how her life reached this juncture while at the same time yearning to move beyond it.
“I’m going to lay this girl down.” she says, squinting at Ally. “Have a good day, okay?”
I nod. I’d return the sentiment, but I suspect the words will sound hollow; from what I can tell, Meredith’s good days have been few and far between lately. Dad may have ended it with the Other Woman, but he’s got a long way to go if he’s going to make the last several months up to his wife.
Through the rain-streaked window, I catch sight of Ivy walking briskly down the Holdens’ driveway, umbrella overhead. As soon as she backs her car out and heads for school, I spring from my seat and sling my bag over my shoulder. Then I head into the rain, hustling across the sodden lawn, shielding my hair and my bread as best I can.
At the Holdens’ front door, I give a double knock and slip inside, wiping my wet shoes on the woven mat before making my way to the kitchen, where Marcy and Bill are seated at the table. She’s got a cup of coffee, and there’s a protein shake with a thick plastic straw sitting in front of him.
“Jillian!” Marcy says, patting the bench beside her. “What a nice surprise. Come sit.”
Leaving my bag on the floor by the fridge, I pull a knife from the butcher block and carry my loaf to the table. “I brought breakfast,” I say, taking the seat Marcy offered.
She unwraps the banana bread and inhales. “Smells amazing,” she says, holding the loaf out to Bill. He sniffs, and smiles his approval. “Coffee?” she says, taking the knife and slicing the bread into even pieces, which she places on napkins and divvies out.
“No, thanks. Max is still upstairs?”
She nods, helping Bill with a bite. “He should be down in a few minutes. You need a ride, sweetie?”
“I do, actually, but that’s not the reason I’m here. I kind of need to talk to you guys.”
Marcy brushes crumbs from her fingertips and folds her hands. I’ve got her full attention—Bill’s, too—and I’m nervous. I’m trying to remember why I thought this was a good idea when the conversation Max and I had last night bounces through my head: his dismay, his thousand-pound sigh, his lack of farewell.
Of all the people in my life, he’s the last I want to disappoint.
“So,” I say, wishing I’d accepted that offer of coffee after all. “You might’ve noticed that Max and I have been hanging out a lot lately. For a while we were just friends, but then we realized it was more than that, and now…”
Bill’s nodding. Marcy’s smiling auspiciously. “Now,what?”
God. This is awkward.
