My parents traded an uncomfortable gaze, and Dad looked away first, leaving Mom to explain, “Oh, we usually don’t do anything for Lydia’s birthday. As you said, it’s during spring break, and she doesn’t have nearly as many friends as Paul.”
My parents had saved me from a childhood that would have otherwise been spent in foster care. I didn’t mind them never throwing me a stupidly expensive birthday party. But that “not ever good enough” feeling still knotted in my chest whenever my mom compared me to Paul—especially knowing what he was capable of when he got angry, desperate, or resentful.
Still, I could only watch my poor mom flounder for so long.
“Big parties aren’t my thing,” I said, stepping in to save her from any further explaining. “I’m more of a nice dinner with Merry and her mom kind of girl.”
The frown lines I’d become very familiar with over the last month of cohabitation reappeared between Yom’s eyebrows. “You are not going home for spring break?”
“No, I usually just stay in Gemidgee. You know, I have my shifts at the animal shelter. And Merry’s mom always makes me something special.”
“Merry and her mother are not talking,” Yom pointed out. “What will you do this year?”
I winced. “Go out to a nice dinner with Merry and—ooh, Trish, too!—since this is the first spring break when she’s not dating anybody. Yay?”
I gave a little cheery wave that may or may not have matched Paul’s Black Hello Kitty accusation.
However, Yom continued to frown at me like I’d said I had spring break plans to kill Hello Kitty.
“It will be fun,” I insisted into his unnerving silence.
But Yom’s expression remained stony. If anything, his eyes narrowed like they had when I insistedMulanand nearly all the Disney cartoon movies were worth a watch.
“You know what, maybe we could put something together for Lydsie at the lake house,” Dad suddenly offered.
“Yes, what a wonderful idea!” Mom latched onto that conversation-saving life preserver. “I could invite a few of the women from the club who have daughters around Lydia’s age. And you could invite your friends, Lydia. Both of them. You know, I told her to pledge my sorority, Kappa Kappa Kappa, her first year, but she refused, and now she barely has anyone to invite to a birthday party.”
Well, that was a record. Mom had managed to go an entire twelve hours without bringing up me not wanting to pledge her mostly blonde house of look-alike sorority girls.
“Lydia can only afford two friends,” Yom said, snagging a passing champagne flute with one hand—then handing it to me as if he knew I needed it.
“I’m not sure I’m catching your meaning,” Mom answered with a frown that would have marred her forehead if not for her dedication to regular filler appointments.
“She has too big heart. She can barely afford two friends she has,” Yom clarified. “If she had more, she would be spending all her time on them. Her studies would suffer.”
Yom was either judging me or giving me a compliment. Whatever the case, my heart stuttered a little.
“That’s right.” Dad guffawed. “Do you know, I had to make her rent a place with a no-pets policy just to make sure she didn’t adopt any more dogs? We already have two we’re still having to take care of in Excelsior.”
“I did not know,” Yom answered, tilting his head. “But I believe your story.”
“Though I do adore Princess Diana, the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel mix that Lydia brought home when she was in sixth grade,” Mom acknowledged with a thoughtful glance toward me. “I can’t bear to be without her, even for a few hours. Right now, she’s waiting for me in my hotel room.”
“I left Remington, the Sheprador she made me take in, back at home,” Dad said, rolling his eyes at his well-preserved wife. “But I swear, he’s the best damn hunting dog you’ll ever meet. You wouldn’t believe how many offers I’ve had to turn down from my friends who want to buy Remy to replace their useless purebreds. Back when Lydia was in high school, I’d have themcome over for dinner—within a week or two, she’d have them fixed up with a shelter dog that was just right for them.”
“Same here!” Mom tittered. “I’ve had to bring Lydia to a few of my charity luncheons just to get my friends to stop badgering me!”
Okay, somehow, this conversation had gone from my social failings to Dad and Mom bragging to Yom about how good I was at matching the right people with the right dog. I blinked, the wholly unfamiliar warmth of parental pride replacing the sting of Mom’s earlier comments.
“Maybe you could find me a pooch?” Brick said with a hopeful tone that didn’t seem at all put on. “It’s been a bit lonely since Meredith handed me those divorce papers.”
“Sure, she can,” Dad volunteered before turning back to Yom. “Let’s talk about it more when you two fly to Minneapolis for her spring break party. Hey, and there’s a game that day, Rustanov. Wanna come see about us Raptors?”
Not this again.”Dad, no, he’s already committed to his uncle’s team.”
That had been one of the few personal things Yom had told me about himself during our many dinners.
“Okay, okay, sure, I understand. Indiana Polar is a great team,” Dad replied in a completely reasonable tone.
