Britt had explicitly told Becky and Rainbow not to visit their apartment. She’d preferred to live in two separate worlds—the world of their apartment and the world outside it. Steve had arrived and straddled the worlds, serving as a go-between. With him, she felt she had an ally. With him, she felt like she could finally collapse her two identities into one.
“I’m sorry, Monica. I don’t believe we were invited before. If I missed an invitation, I truly apologize,” Rainbow said. She was her usual unruffled self, her smile as serene as ever.
“Did someone invite you today?” Britt’s mom asked.
“Mom!” Britt said, at the same time Steve said, “Mon, it’s okay. They’re just being neighborly.”
“I’m sorry—I’ll go,” Rainbow said. “Bec, do you still want to stay and play?”
Becky was clinging to her mother’s side now. She grasped her mother’s hands, and Britt stared at the way their fingers interlaced. Britt’s mother had never held her hand like that.
“I don’t know,” Becky said.
She gave Britt a look, telling her with her eyes that she felt uncomfortable.
“You can always come to our house later if you want, Britt,” Rainbow said.
“Maybe today isn’t the best day,” Britt’s mom said.
The room grew quiet enough for all of them to hear Steve sigh. It was the first time Britt understood that her mother exhausted him too.
“Sorry,” Britt muttered to Becky.
Rainbow knelt down so she was eye level with Britt and whispered, “There’s nothing to be sorry for. We will see you soon.”
And then they left.
Britt’s mom made a show of stomping off to the master bedroom, and Steve went after her, closing the door behind him. Britt pressed her ear to the door and held her breath in anticipation of Steve telling her mother that she had to move out. Britt was prematurely furious with her mother for ruining this good thing they had.
Steve did not tell her mother she had to move out, though. Instead, he apologized for not being more sensitive to her feelings and assured her that he had no romantic feelings for Rainbow, which Britt thought should have gone without saying, given that he had literally just met the woman. Britt’s mom’s tone changed from angry to loving, and Britt stepped away from the door, unwilling to listen to any more of their nonsense. She was relieved that Steve wasn’t ending things, but also disappointed in him for not saying what was true—Britt’s mom was impossible.
When Steve finally emerged from the room, Britt was sitting on the couch, flipping through TV channels. He sat next to her.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“You’re too nice to her,” Britt said. It felt good to say it, to trust that Steve could handle this truth.
“She needs a lot of love,” he said. “I don’t mind giving it.”
“You’ll get tired,” Britt said. “Eventually.”
“I don’t think so,” he said. He sounded so sure.
Britt pretended to watch whatever was on TV and waited for him to leave. He stayed sitting next to her, though.
“Hey, I have an idea,” he said. “You want to go shooting with me?”
Steve was a gun man. He owned several and kept them locked in a cabinet in the garage, taking one or two out with him each weekend toshoot at an outdoor range a half hour away. Britt had asked to hold one once before, and he’d let her. She’d loved the feel of it in her hands, the sense of power it gave her. It was rare for Britt to feel power.
“Seriously?” Britt asked.
“Seriously,” Steve said.
“Mom will let me?”
Steve shrugged. “We’ll just tell her we’re going out for a bite to eat. She wants to nap anyway.”
This, the white lie shared between them, gave her a sense of power too.
