My stomach folds itself in half.
“You don’t have to,” Renee amends. “But know that you can if you want to talk about it. Whatever it is.”
It feels like I have mosquito bites on my stomach lining. I’m not sure whether it’s safe—or even possible—to scratch.DoI want to talk about it? Withher? Probably not. She doesn’t know my family. She never knew my dad. But I know I can’t feel this way anymore. All bottled up. My texts to Dad are devastatingly one sided, and based on my interactions with Gin as of late, I’m not sure she has space to discuss anything besides the wedding. I close my eyes and try to smooth my nerves like a blanket over my lap.
“So you know how my dad was in a band?”
“The Handful,” Renee softly supplies. She remembers. That feels nice.
“Right. So. Last night…” Immediately, the words jam in my throat. I lift my mug for a sip of the only liquid courage I’m allowed these days. “My mom is dating the drummer.”
A wave of nausea rolls through me, and I ride it out with my eyes squeezed shut. When I open them, Renee is studying me closely. It’s like she’s holding me up to the light, seeing me from every angle. I shiver.
“How are you feeling?” she finally asks.
A puff of air escapes my lips. “Shocked, I guess? I swung by my mom’s to surprise her last night, and Kurt…well, he was just…there.”
“Wait.” Renee blinks. “Thisjusthappened?”
“Yeah.”
Another long, trembling silence. I run my thumb back and forth along the chip in the lip of my mug. When I’m brave enough to liftmy gaze, Renee’s eyes catch mine so gently, the way my pillow catches my head at night. She’s never looked at me like this before, soft and warm. The good blanket can’t hold a candle to this.
“Thanks for telling me,” she finally says, and by the low, even timbre of her voice, she may actually mean it. “Do you…know him well? The drummer?”
“Yes. Kurt.”
“Kurt,” she repeats with the exact right amount of disdain in her voice. A warm prickle of solidarity.
“I haven’t seen much of him in the last few years,” I admit, “but we spent every summer together in Galena. He was one of Dad’s best friends, and…” My head begins to spin. “I don’t know. He’s Uncle Kurt, you know? He’s not literally my uncle, obviously.”
Renee nods. “I get it.” She blows a breath over her coffee, and the steam momentarily fogs her glasses again. It’s impossibly cute.
“So you’re close, then?” Renee asks, and my throat goes dry.What were we talking about?
“Kurt?” Renee prompts, reading my expression. Hopefully not too well.
“Right. We were close, yeah. Especially when I was little. He was like…the human embodiment of flip-flops.”
Renee’s lips curl up.
“He’s funny, too,” I go on. “He used to recycle jokes from old stand-up comedians, but I didn’t recognize it as George Carlin or John Cleese or whatever. I just thought he and my dad were comedic geniuses. And Kurt was sort of permanently single, so…” A chill zips through me. Warning lights, flashing red in my mind. “Do you think there was something going on with him and Mom before my dad died?”
Renee’s face twists up. Maybe that thought should’ve stayed inside.
“I…I don’t know your mom,” she says.
“Right. Of course. Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Hey.” Renee extends a leg to brush her fuzzy sock against the arch of my foot. Just a poke. A tap. An acknowledgment that I’m not alone. “I don’t know your mom,” she repeats, eyes steady on mine, “but I do know that I’ve assumed the worst before and been…a little wrong.”
In spite of myself, I laugh. “Renee Roberts, willfully admitting to being wrong? Well, now I’ve heard everything.”
“Alittlewrong,” she doubles down. “Don’t let it get to your head.” She brushes her foot against mine again, and my chest floods with heat. Renee’s cool blue gaze is the softest it’s ever been, and I fumble beneath it. My eyes leap around her apartment for a safe spot to land. Somewhere comfortable. Somewhere familiar. I find a stopping point at the fruit bowl, and an idea clicks into place.
“Do you have plans today?”
“I…don’t think so.” She sets down her coffee and tugs an elastic off her wrist, then piles her hair into a loose knot. “Don’tyouwork today?”
