“I’m sorry.” She rests her face on her palm and looks at her coffee. “I really am. I was angry and I was hurt. I went too far. I should have talked to you. I should’ve followed you home, and I didn’t. I opened my big mouth. I’m sorry.”
I stare at my coffee too, feeling defeated. I shake my head because there’s nothing we can do about it now. “It’s okay. We had some to drink, and everything was a little crazy last night.”
She nods, and there’s a beat of silence. It’s not awkward or full of tension. It’s just flat.
She asks, “Are we — are we going to be okay?”
I look up at her beautiful face that I’ve watched in dorm rooms, dining halls, and once at mom’s house because my mom was having a severe depressive crisis and the house needed to be cleaned. I couldn’t do it alone, and Gianna came without being asked. Her face has been the most reliable face in my life since I was eighteen.
“Yeah, Gianna. We’re going to be okay.” I offer a small smile. “Of course.”
Her shoulders come down half an inch. “I need a little space from the situation. Not from you. I need a few days where we don’t talk about my brother. Where we just hang out. Where we order takeout and watch Love Island, and I can pretend I don’t have a brother for a while.”
“Yeah. Okay. Today, I was planning to go back to my mom’s house.”
“Oh,” she says, confused.
“Yeah, last night I left my bag there with all my school stuff by accident. Tyr wanted to see my math homework.” I lift my brows.
“I can’t imagine a man named Tyr.”
I chuckle. “It fits him. He has the energy of one.”
“The energy of a tire?” she questions.
I motion with my hands. “Yeah, he rolls everywhere, I swear. He has like ADHD or something. He’s good for my mom.”
She laughs. “Weirdest name ever.”
I nod in agreement.
“When are you gonna be back?” She takes a sip of her coffee. “I want to finish this season so bad.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours. Probably going to hang out over there and see what a Saturday is like there.”
“Okay.”
The drive is forty minutes, and I don’t remember most of it. The car pulls left, but I correct it without thinking. The wheat in the fields was gold-dry two weeks ago and it’s rust now. I pass the Tecumseh exit and get off at the next one. I’m grateful for the quiet drive.
I pull into the driveway at eight-thirty. The yard is mowed weekly now, and last night for dinner, Tyr and Bear did thedishes together. Seeing my mom happy still stings, but it stings a little less when we have a real conversation about life.
I get out of the car, walk up to the front door, and stop with my hand halfway to the knob. I remember, halfway through the motion, that I should knock now. There is a man living here now and walking in with a key without knocking feels wrong.
I knock, and the door opens. Bear is playing on his Switch but paused it because he was expecting me.
“Your bag’s on the table.”
I step inside and close the door behind me. “Thanks, Bear. Did you eat Camdenkfast?”
It’s an automatic question, but as soon as it comes out, I smell the bacon.
He nods. “I did.”
For a second, I have to get myself together. It’s been a few weeks, but I’m still not used to Bear being cared for like this. In the kitchen, Tyr is at the stove. Not too long ago, the cereal bowls with spoiled milk lined the counter. I’m not sure when I’ll shake the feeling, but this still all feels new.
When Tyr sees me come in, he turns, and his face lights up. “Lucy. Hey. We were expecting you, so I made extra food.”
I glance down at what’s on the counter. It’s not just bacon. “Pancakes?”
