Chapter 19
Under Nate’s instructions, I didn’t mention the discrepancy in our income to our parents. It felt strange to be in on a secret they thought I didn’t know about. The strangeness gradually developed into annoyance when Mom decided I was the one not being honest.
“You’ve been keeping to yourself all summer, Kira.” She joined me on the porch with a beer in hand. “What are you hiding?”
Lily Ryland sat on a pillow in between my knees as I installed her microbraids. Her sister was riding bikes with the other kids up and down the block. Their mother was pulling another double at the hospital and needed help to get the girl’s hair done for the upcoming school year. Lucky for them, I was a pretty good braider. The best on Emerson, at least.
“Nothing.” I shook my head, avoiding adding the obvious, and how about you?
“Never could get you to talk to me,” Mom mused while sipping her drink. “You know, you didn’t cry when you were born. I used to joke it was ‘cause you were too afraid to make noise. You didn’t want to be an inconvenience.”
I nodded and kept quiet. She had told this story tons of times. I’m not too sure if it was true because Nate was too young to remember and Dad was at a casino when I was born. But it sounded plausible.
“Almost done,” I told Lily as I started on her last braid. “Then you can play.”
She nodded, never taking her eyes off of her book. After I was finished, she probably wouldn’t join her sister. Instead, she’d likely curl up on our couch and continue reading instead. I’d let her borrow my oldPretty Little Liarsnovels, and she was devouring them.
“They’re sweet girls,” Mom mused, gesturing to Grace Ryland riding after one of the neighborhood boys I’m sure she had a budding crush on.
“Shame their momma doesn’t have much help. I was one of the few people on the street that told that woman nothing good would come from having Carson’s babies.”
I shot Mom a warning look and told Grace to go inside and get something to drink so her head wouldn’t start hurting after sitting for so long.
“The girls and Ms. Ryland are doing fine. People on the block help all the time,” I reminded her as I started cleaning up the stray hairs and extra rubber bands. “Just because….”
Mom raised a brow, studying me. “Go ahead. What is it?”
I willed myself to finish my thought, “Just because you don’t want to help doesn’t mean others aren’t helping.”
She laughed. “I raised my children on my own. If I could do it, so can all these other women. No use in spoiling them.”
I pushed away the urge to argue that we raised ourselves. Once I was old enough to go to school, parental intervention was slim to none. Nate and I filled in the gaps for each other. We blocked out Mom’s constant complaints of having kids while she was too young.
“Helping someone isn’t spoiling them. It’s just being kind and hoping they’ll do the same when you’re in need,” I said.
“So you help to get something in return?” She stuck out her bottom lip as if to consider the concept. “That doesn’t seem very neighborly, Kira. Seems kind of two-faced, if you ask me. Is that why you help your dad so much? You think he’ll give you something in return?”
My forehead wrinkled. “No, of course not. I was just saying, sometimes things come full circle, you know?”
She laughed again. It was deep and mocking. I regretted opening my mouth.
Mom analyzed everything I said and tried to make my words into something they weren’t. Something twisted and mean. When I was younger, I used to think maybe I was mean. Maybe I had said something worth mocking. Thankfully, I was old enough to see through her act.
“Pats on the head,” Mom said. “Those were always your favorites. It’s cute.”
I frowned. “I’m a little old for pats on the head.”
She held up her beer bottle to me to mock toast. “Agreed.”
My jaw clenched. Lily appeared back on the porch with a sad look on her face. I immediately directed my attention to her, more than happy for the distraction.
“Can you take me home?” she asked. “I’m tired.”
I nodded. “Of course. Go get your sister and we’ll head back.”
Lily hurried off the porch, calling for Grace. I gathered the rest of the hair supplies, wordless, as I straightened up.
“I see how you look at that Leo boy,” Mom said in a softer tone I was used to hearing.
