her pencil, and stalks off to the pencil sharpener.
When she comes back, she leans in real close. "I would be careful if I were you," she whispers.
"You do anything to Matteo's mom and I will—"
"What? What will you do?" She runs her hand along Walk's arm.
"Get off me." He shakes her hand away.
Thirty-Nine
Kirsten
My mom has a headache again today. She must feel really lousy to let me make dinner again. Usually she does everything in her power to keep me away from the refrigerator. I check on her, but she's lying on her bed with the blinds pulled.
I find some frozen taquitos in the back of the freezer and zap them in the microwave. Kippy and I take them to the basement to eat. We spend all evening down there until I see her with her eyes closed and her cheek glued with drool to her
Life Cycle of Trees
book. I get her up to her room and she crashes on her bed.
My dad comes home just after that. I tell him Mom is sick again and he goes up to their room and closes the door. He doesn't come out, so I head for the garage to the Costco stash.
My mouth is spicy, salty, corny, happy as I munch on Barb-B-Q flavored Fritos. I cram a bag of Ruffles potato chips in my pocket for later. I wonder if Dr. Markovitz could prescribe diet pills? I'm just imagining myself in a size three bikini when I hear voices. I dive behind my dad's new hybrid SUV, the crinkling and crumpling of the potato chip bag loud in my ears.
"Why is the light on out here?" my mom asks.
I don't move. Don't breathe.
"I didn't leave it on," my father says.
"You must have! You went back out to get your laptop in your car, remember?"
"That was last night."
"No," my mother barks.
"Yes it was."
"No it wasn't."
I guess it's good to know they talk directly to each other once in a while, even if it is just to fight. I put my hands on the cold cement floor to take some of the pressure off my knees. Inch by slow inch I slide forward and put my butt down. The chip bag makes a slight crinkling, crackling noise. My whole body freezes.
Can they see me?
"You're making too much of this," my father says.
"How can you stand there and say that?"
I breathe out slowly, silently. They didn't hear. They think they're alone.
"Didn't you see them last week?"
"I saw them. They're friends. What is the big deal?"
"Rebecca says they're more than friends," my mom says. "Rebecca says Kirsten is more than friends with several boys."
"But you asked Kirsten and she said no. And I believe her. I've never liked Rebecca, you know that."
"Oh, you're so infuriating! Don't you even care about this?"
"Yes, I care. I just don't think it's worth getting all worked up about."
"You just like hurting me, don't you?" my mom asks.
"For Christ's sake, Rachel, it has nothing to do with you. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"Didn't it ever occur to you that this might be awkward?"
"We've been over this a hundred times. I didn't think you'd find out."
"Why didn't you tell me? Why would you lie to me?"
"I never lied."
"Oh, don't even ... You have a secret love child and you have the gall to tell me you didn't lie."
Wait a minute. "A secret love child"?
"I didn't lie. I just didn't mention it. He's my son. What do you want me to do? Just pretend he doesn't exist?"
"Why now, all of a sudden? Why didn't you send him to private school before?"
"I didn't realize how bad his school was. Look, I'm trying to do the right thing here. Don't I get any credit for that? Sylvia asked me to help with this."
"I bet she did."
"I owe her that much, Rachel."
"There are other private schools in Marin County. Why this one? Did you want this to come out?"
"You're the one who looked into every school in the entire county. You're the one who picked Mountain. You said it was far and away the best. Those were your exact words." He sighs. "Look. I didn't marry Sylvia, I married you. Please. I'm asking, I'm begging. Can we move on?"
"Your daughter and your son may or may not be having some
When she comes back, she leans in real close. "I would be careful if I were you," she whispers.
"You do anything to Matteo's mom and I will—"
"What? What will you do?" She runs her hand along Walk's arm.
"Get off me." He shakes her hand away.
Thirty-Nine
Kirsten
My mom has a headache again today. She must feel really lousy to let me make dinner again. Usually she does everything in her power to keep me away from the refrigerator. I check on her, but she's lying on her bed with the blinds pulled.
I find some frozen taquitos in the back of the freezer and zap them in the microwave. Kippy and I take them to the basement to eat. We spend all evening down there until I see her with her eyes closed and her cheek glued with drool to her
Life Cycle of Trees
book. I get her up to her room and she crashes on her bed.
My dad comes home just after that. I tell him Mom is sick again and he goes up to their room and closes the door. He doesn't come out, so I head for the garage to the Costco stash.
My mouth is spicy, salty, corny, happy as I munch on Barb-B-Q flavored Fritos. I cram a bag of Ruffles potato chips in my pocket for later. I wonder if Dr. Markovitz could prescribe diet pills? I'm just imagining myself in a size three bikini when I hear voices. I dive behind my dad's new hybrid SUV, the crinkling and crumpling of the potato chip bag loud in my ears.
"Why is the light on out here?" my mom asks.
I don't move. Don't breathe.
"I didn't leave it on," my father says.
"You must have! You went back out to get your laptop in your car, remember?"
"That was last night."
"No," my mother barks.
"Yes it was."
"No it wasn't."
I guess it's good to know they talk directly to each other once in a while, even if it is just to fight. I put my hands on the cold cement floor to take some of the pressure off my knees. Inch by slow inch I slide forward and put my butt down. The chip bag makes a slight crinkling, crackling noise. My whole body freezes.
Can they see me?
"You're making too much of this," my father says.
"How can you stand there and say that?"
I breathe out slowly, silently. They didn't hear. They think they're alone.
"Didn't you see them last week?"
"I saw them. They're friends. What is the big deal?"
"Rebecca says they're more than friends," my mom says. "Rebecca says Kirsten is more than friends with several boys."
"But you asked Kirsten and she said no. And I believe her. I've never liked Rebecca, you know that."
"Oh, you're so infuriating! Don't you even care about this?"
"Yes, I care. I just don't think it's worth getting all worked up about."
"You just like hurting me, don't you?" my mom asks.
"For Christ's sake, Rachel, it has nothing to do with you. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
"Didn't it ever occur to you that this might be awkward?"
"We've been over this a hundred times. I didn't think you'd find out."
"Why didn't you tell me? Why would you lie to me?"
"I never lied."
"Oh, don't even ... You have a secret love child and you have the gall to tell me you didn't lie."
Wait a minute. "A secret love child"?
"I didn't lie. I just didn't mention it. He's my son. What do you want me to do? Just pretend he doesn't exist?"
"Why now, all of a sudden? Why didn't you send him to private school before?"
"I didn't realize how bad his school was. Look, I'm trying to do the right thing here. Don't I get any credit for that? Sylvia asked me to help with this."
"I bet she did."
"I owe her that much, Rachel."
"There are other private schools in Marin County. Why this one? Did you want this to come out?"
"You're the one who looked into every school in the entire county. You're the one who picked Mountain. You said it was far and away the best. Those were your exact words." He sighs. "Look. I didn't marry Sylvia, I married you. Please. I'm asking, I'm begging. Can we move on?"
"Your daughter and your son may or may not be having some
Similar Books
