I let out a dry laugh. “I’d hardly call myself fancy. I can barely afford to eat.”
“You know, you can work from wherever with your marketing job, so you could always move back here,” Maceystarts, but then quickly stops herself, already knowing the answer. “Anyway, we’re going tomorrow evening—if you want to go. I think it’d be nice to see you again. It’s just been so long, you know?”
“Yeah,” I agree, thankful she’s ignoring the elephant in the room. No one mentions it when they reach out to me. They all know why I split. Eliza, too.
We don’t want to be here.
And honestly, I don’t think anyone—other than my mother—reallycares about us ever coming back.
I open my mouth to politely decline, when my mom cuts me off, her voice laced with irritation.
“I’m ready for my bath, Rue.”
I swallow the frustration. “Actually, yeah. I’ll go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Perfect!” I don’t miss the surprise in Macey’s voice. “We’ll meet at five.”
“Sounds good.” I say, and then hang up before anything else can be said. I shove the phone back in my pocket, and return to my mom, grabbing the handles and pushing her forward.
“Who was that?” Mom shoots off before we ever make it to the bathroom door. “You sounded irritated.”
I hesitate, considering a lie, but there’s no point. “Macey. She said Lindsey saw me today—whoever that is.”
She scoffs. “You don’t remember Lindsey?”
I scoot the chair into the bathroom. “I don’t remember anyone really.”
“She was your best friend in second grade.”
No, Noah was my best friend.
“She used to come over sometimes,” Mom continues. “Blonde-headed little thing with the pigtails.” She reaches down, using her good hand to unstrap her boot. “I don’t know how youdon’t remember her. The two of you used to giggle for hours in your room.”
I blink a few times, trying—andfailing—to bring up any such memory. I can’t remember any blonde girl, much less anyone that I used to giggle with in my bedroom.
Maybe she’s confusing me with Eliza.
It wouldn’t be the first time. Eliza was only two years younger than me, and a lot of our friends overlapped. Totally plausible.
Or I’m going crazy.
I frown, and then slip past my mother, reaching out and starting the bath.
“Make sure it’s warm,” she says from behind me, as the boot thumps to the floor.
“Got it,” I say, holding my fingers under the water. I adjust it until it’s the hottest I can handle, then turn back to my mother, who mirrors the misery I feel right now. “Should I get something for the cast? Or do you think you can keep it dry?” I gesture to the wrist.
“Well, I don’t want to burden you with it…” Mom frowns, her eyes dropping to the white cast. “I think I can just keep it dry. I’m not a kid.”
“Okay,” I give her a nod, and then dry my hands on the towel hanging on the rack. The bathroom has a musty smell to it, and I can’t remember if that was there when I lived here or not…
Probably not.
My mother starts to undress herself, pulling at her sweatpants and muttering things under her breath. “This is impossible.”
“No, it’s not. I mean, you got yourself dressed this morning?” I sound like a jerk, I know. But also… she did.
She looks up at me, giving me a dirty look as I give her a hand in lifting her body up off the chair. I help her scoot so she canremove the clothing. I slide everything off on the bottom half, wincing as she wails as I try to thread it off her ankle.
