“Of course she didn’t.”
“—?but I was worried, so I told her I wanted to go find you.”
“Well, here I am.” I stand up and pace the tiny space, energy and anger and I don’t even know what making my fingertips tingle. “God, do you want the truth, Eva? The real truth? Because this is it. Do you see it now? Why this is something I never, ever want to have to talk about? Do you see what she does? She takes these beautiful motherly gestures and fucks them up. She steals money for a party. She forgets her own daughter’s birthday. She thinks I’m fine and that she’s mother of the year just because she’s still here. She moves me from place to place to place, thinking it’s good for me. It’s an adventure. It’s normal. Well, it’s not. It’s not and this”—?I wave my arms around—?“this thing that just happened with Pete is going to spiral down and down and down. It does every single time she breaks up with someone. She gets mad and then she leaves and then she acts like she’s fine for about ten damn minutes and then she switches from beer to vodka or gin or something clear or I don’t even know what the hell it is, and—?”
“Grace.” Eva stands up and tries to stop me, but I keep moving, circling the room like a wild animal.
“—?and before you know it, I’m sitting at a bar at Ruby’s, fending off forty-year-old assholes running their hand up my arm while Maggie dances the night away. Until it’s not fun anymore and then it’s all: Gracie! Gracie! Save me!”
“Hey, come on, sit down.”
I stop pacing and look at her. I take a step closer and closer until we’re chest to chest. Almost like it’s an instinct, her hands come to rest on my hips, and she pulls me even closer.
“I didn’t ask you last night, Eva,” I say, and she frowns. “I didn’t want to ask this. I didn’t want Luca and Emmy to be right, but they are. So please. Please promise me you’ll stop hanging out with her. It’s not a jealousy thing. It’s not because I’m pissed about the attention she’s giving you. It’s because you’re going to get hurt. You probably shouldn’t be with me, either, but you can’t be with her. Just . . . go back to Emmy’s and talk to her, or don’t, but Maggie’s not good for you. I’m not good for you. Please—?”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Eva whispers, and her hands come up to wipe away tears I didn’t even know had started falling. Big, fat tears too. Tears full of days and hours and years of the same old bullshit. The same old Grace is fine bullshit.
“Please,” I whisper again. “Promise me.”
“Okay,” Eva says. “Okay, I promise.”
I exhale the world onto her shoulder, sinking against her. “Thank you.”
“But I’m not leaving you or going back to Emmy’s right now.”
“Eva—?”
“No, Grace. I know you think you’re all messed up, but who isn’t? I’ll stay away from Maggie and do whatever you need me to do to help you with all this, but you’re not her. You’re you and there’s no way in hell I’m staying away from you.”
The relief is palpable. She pulls me even closer, her arms curling around my waist, one hand drifting up to rest on the back of my neck. She presses her lips to my temple, whispering things I can’t even decipher into my ear, but her voice is low and soft and feels like a hot bath after a day in the snow.
And for the first time in a long time—?for this moment, at least—?I am fine.
Eva calls Luca to update him on what’s going on. He asks to talk to me, but I decline. I just want to live in this world—?both huge and tiny at the same time—?for a little while longer. Just Eva and me. Luca says we can stay the night on Emmaline, that he’ll explain everything to Emmy, and that there should be some things to eat in the cupboard in the little kitchen.
We find a box of macaroni and cheese and a pan. Eva boils the noodles while I root around for anything sweet, but only come up with a half-eaten jar of peanut butter, which is sort of perfect when I think about it. After Eva squirts bright orange cheese goo all over the noodles, we eat out of plastic Star Wars bowls on the couch.
“I need to tell you something,” Eva says as I grab the jar of Jif from the table and hand her a spoon.
“What?”
She inhales deeply, twirling her spoon between her long fingers. “Maggie asked me if I wanted to live with you guys.”
“What?” I nearly choke. We don’t even have a house. “She asked you this today?”
“No, no. A few days ago. She knew how much Emmy was driving me up the wall and asked if I’d feel more comfortable with her.” She shrugs. “Emmy said no.”
My throat aches, but I swallow it down. This is an ugly twist—?Mom asking Eva to live with us after she nearly had a stroke when Emmy asked the same thing concerning me a few years ago. “That’s what you were fighting about on the Fourth, isn’t it?”
She nods. “I know it was stupid, but it made sense at the time, in my head. I guess I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere again, had some control. Maggie made me think . . . I don’t know what.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “She’s really good at making people think I don’t know what.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“And I thought I’d get more time with you.”
