“Did she say why?”
I shake my head. “She just said she won’t be there.”
“When’s the last time you talked to her?”
“I don’t know, probably Christmas.”
“That was over a month ago. You guys don’t talk more than that?”
“I would, but she doesn’t have time.”
“She should make time to talk to you,” Ella says, sounding angry. “Even if she’s busy.”
“She should, but she doesn’t.”
Sometimes I think she avoids talking to me because she doesn’t want me telling her about my dad. Last summer, I told her he hit me. I didn’t actually say it. I hinted at it, but she knew what I meant. She blew it off, saying he was probably just stressed from work. And then she changed the subject and talked about something else. After that, her calls became less frequent. They went from once a week to once every couple weeks to once a month.
“I’m sorry,” Ella says, putting her hand on my arm. “It’s not right. Your mom should be here.”
“So should yours,” I say, glancing at her.
She shrugs. “In a way, she is. It sounds strange but I always imagine her being at holidays and school events even though she’s not. It’s easier that way, to imagine she’s here, than to think about her being gone.”
“Does your dad do the same thing?”
“No. It’s different for him. He still struggles being without her. He’ll be a mess on graduation day. I guarantee I’ll hear him crying in his room that morning. He thinks I don’t hear that stuff, but I do. He tries to pretend he’s okay, and I let him because I know he doesn’t want me worrying. He’ll put on a smile for graduation, but he’ll struggle to get through it without my mom. I will too. I’ll imagine her there, but it won’t be the same. I’ll look up at the stands and see all the moms, but none of them will be mine.”
“At least you won’t be the only one without a mom there,” I say, smiling a little to lighten the mood. I don’t know how our talks keep turning so serious and so personal. I don’t intend for that to happen, but then it does.
“Maybe you could talk to her and tell her it’s important to you that she’s there.”
“I’m not doing that. I want her to come because she wants to, not because I made her.” I push back from the sink and turn to Ella. “Go eat your food. It’s getting cold.”
“I don’t really want it. I just said I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought...” She looks away, then shakes her head.
“What? What were you going to say?”
She looks back at me. “I thought leaving you here alone was a bad idea.”
“Why would it be a bad idea? I’m alone here all the time.”
“I guess I just thought you shouldn’t be tonight.”
I hold her gaze, trying to figure out what’s going on behind those big, brown eyes. Is she really concerned for me, or is this all some type of scheme to get back at me for all I’ve done to her over the years? I want to trust her intentions are good, but I don’t. I’ve grown up being taught that people don’t do shit to be nice. They do it to get something they want. There’s no such thing as good intentions, which is why I’m leery of Ella and everything she’s said tonight. For all I know, she’s a damn good liar, and she played me tonight to get me to talk.
Fuck. Why did I open up to her like that? She’s the enemy, and you don’t get vulnerable with the enemy.
“Could we go sit by your pool?” she asks.
I stare at her, confused by her question because it’s dark outside and an odd thing to ask after the deep conversation we just had.
“Why do you want to sit by the pool?”
“Because I really like pools and I like how you have it all lit up back there. You could stay here if you want. I just want to sit out there, if that’s okay.”
