She was surprised to see Briar’s expression flicker with hurt. ‘You’re one to talk. You’ve changed way more than I have. I mean, you’ve dropped the Barbie aesthetic—’
‘That’s a dramatic way to frame me not dyeing my hair anymore—’ Alice started.
‘And you weren’t such a pushover,’ Briar barreled on. ‘I mean, you’ve spent the last session letting campers and parents walk all over you.’
‘They’re intimidating,’ Alice retorted.
‘And you once argued with the school principal – and won.’ Briar caught her eye in the rearview mirror. ‘Over a grading error.’
‘Well…’ Alice flushed; she’d forgotten about that. It had been eighth grade, and Briar had missed getting an A in Geometry over a rounding technicality. When their math teacher hadn’t seen reason, Alice had been forced to go over his head.
‘You didn’t scare so easily back then,’ Briar said quietly.
Alice had no idea what to say to that, the idea that she’d ever, at any point in her life, been fearless, or that she now lacked that apparently quintessential part of herself. She’d grant Briar that she used to be better with the kids than the past few weeks had shown, but anyone would have atrophied social skills with children after years of talking to mostly academics. She’d found herself treating them like particularly immature botany students as a compromise, which clearly hadn’t been working.
Briar watched her in the rearview mirror, the same intensity in her gaze as the day before. And for the first time since getting in the car, Alice didn’t look away. If Briar wanted brave Alice back, well, she could have her.
Still, Briar’s face didn’t betray any emotion. At least when she had been antagonizing her, Alice had known exactly where they stood. Now, she had no idea what was going on in Briar’s head, and there was nothing Alice hated more than the feeling of not knowing something she should be able to work out.
‘Hey, kids and parents can be tough!’ Noah said, glancing between them in his first display of awkwardness. ‘Believe me, us teachers know all about that.’
For the first time since they’d gotten in the car, it felt like Noah was the third wheel again. And Alice didn’t know what to make of that.
‘Mom?’ Alice said, poking her head through the door to the study. Her mom had been out when she’d arrived the day before, and Alice hadn’t had the chance to share her good news from Jeremy. She also was starting to feel very lonely in the house, which was strange since she spent almost all of her time in London alone without any issues. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk or something. Stretch our legs?’
Her mom turned from her hunched position over the keyboard. ‘Oh, Alice,’ she said, seeming faintly surprised even though Alice had told her she’d be back between sessions. ‘You decided to come back from that camp of yours?’
‘Just for the weekend,’ Alice re-explained patiently.
‘Very nice,’ her mom replied, and Alice had the feeling that she hadn’t registered the question about taking a walk. She didn’t try again, knowing her mom didn’t share her love of nature – it had been a pitch made out of desperation. ‘And how are you?’
‘Good,’ Alice said, swallowing hard. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a mother who offered comfort, someone to commiserate with rather than hide her feelings from. But hypotheticals like that were hardly useful thought exercises.
‘Glad to hear it,’ her mom said.
‘I actually wanted to talk to you about…’ – Alice searched for some connection, something they could discuss – ‘the wedding,’ she finished, not knowing why she’d said that of all things.
‘The wedding,’ her mother echoed. ‘Whose wedding?’
‘Dad’s,’ Alice said quickly. ‘I mean, I’ve decided I’m not going, and I wanted you to know.’
She wasn’t entirely certain she had decided that until the words were out of her mouth, but they sounded true enough. It wasn’t as though she was itching to come back to the US in the near future; it had worked out about as poorly as possible this time around. And, most importantly, they communicated to her mom what was important: Alice took her side in the divorce.
This show of loyalty, unfortunately, seemed to go entirely over her mother’s head. ‘That’s nice,’ she said. ‘Because of your dissertation?’
‘Um… yes,’ Alice said. ‘It sounds like Jeremy thinks it will be ready by spring. No need for another year of revisions.’
‘Delighted to hear it,’ her mom said. ‘I’ll come out for the graduation ceremony.’
She didn’t ask what Alice was thinking about doing next, which was relieving but also confusing. Surely, she wanted to know what Alice’s plans were with her degree, and whether she would be staying in London or moving somewhere else.
‘Thanks,’ Alice said, forcing a smile. ‘It would be lovely to have you there.’
She wished she could talk about Briar, about Susan, about the things that had driven her away from this place, or even about something as simple as how terrible the last session had been. But her mom wouldn’t understand any of it – she would have never cast aside her research over sentimental stuff like old friendship the way Alice had. She’d advise her to go back to London, if she asked.
And maybe, it struck her, that was the only reasonable thing to do.
Without saying anything else, because she knew her mom considered their conversation finished, she went to the backyard.
