My insides wither. Maisy has fallen for Lark almost as hard as I have. Is he going to avoid her too? Will he look at her and think of what I said to him?Thank you for not letting me believe you are a better man.
I try for a brave face. “We’ll see.”
When we get back home, Lark’s Jeep still isn’t back, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Inside—and, yes, the house does smell like Fajita Wonderland—Maisy dashes off toward her room and Livy greets me from the kitchen table. She’s finishing what looks like a grilled cheese sandwich with a book propped open in front of her.
“Pen just left with Tyler and Nina,” she says, pushing away from the table with her empty plate.
I nod. “I figured.”
Before this weekend, Lark was on Nina transport duty. I know it’s not just her new job and new schedule that’s changed things. Pen made it pretty clear earlier that Lark is on the outs with everyone, and as angry as I was with him—as I still am—I hurt for him, knowing how the last two days must have felt for him.
Livy rinses her plate in the sink before loading it into the dishwasher. “There’s a speaker tonight at the Student Union. Her lecture is on rape culture and its ties to capitalism. Pen’s coming with me. Want to join? You could bring Maisy.”
Grateful that Maisy’s out of earshot so I won’t have to explain rape culture or capitalism, I weigh my words. “Um… I don’t think so.”
Livy blinks at me like she can’t understand why I’d turn this offer down.
“She’s only four,” I try. “A little young for topics like that. For scholarly lectures in general.”
Her expression doesn’t change. Livy’s an odd one. Then again, if someone told me she was attending women’s studies lectures while in preschool, I’d believe it.
“Besides, her bedtime is eight o’clock.”
“Right,” Livy says on a nod. “Well, after the lecture, we’re gonna meet Nina and Tyler, so we’ll be home after Nina’s shift.”
I grin. As different as we all are, it’s nice that the people under this roof can lean on each other. That Nanna’s house has fostered a community. After Tyler’s accident, his social circle narrowed down to virtually nothing. The guys he used to hang out with—friends from high school and technical college and the other guys from Guidry Electric came around for a while. They visited the hospital plenty at first.
But when it became clear that he wasn’t the same, that he might never be the same? I think it made some of them uncomfortable. Especially the guys from work he didn’t remember.
But now he has people. And, yeah, he can’t hold his own in a conversation with Livy about human rights. I’m not even sure he could follow one. But if he needs help reading instructions on a bag of microwave popcorn, he’s comfortable asking her.
And for someone who’s as sharp-edged as Livy, she’s feather soft with both him and Maisy.
“Have fun,” I tell her, smiling.
She looks surprised, as though there’s no other possible option. “Of course.”
Because of the gelato, I know Maisy’s not ready for dinner yet, so I start a load of her clothes and fold a load of towels. Pen comes back from dropping off Nina and Tyler, and then she and Nina head out again.
I crack open that promised bottle of wine. I’m not sure if Bois du Blanc pairs well with fajitas, but I’m past caring.
After I give Maisy a bath, I don’t put up a fight when she asks for us to eat on the floor of the living room in front ofFinding Nemo.It turns out chicken fajitas go great with a third glass of Landry’s local white.
I don’t pour myself a fourth glass until after I’ve tucked her in and read herLlama, Llama, Red Pajama,Dragons Love Tacos,andThe Last Stop on Market Street.
But while my tub fills and my lavender camomile bath bomb fizzes and froths the water, I start up the dishwasher and empty the Bois du Blanc bottle into my glass, congratulating myself for keeping this self-care promise.
I turn on the Spotify Bathtub Chill playlist and earn myself thirty minutes of uninterrupted listening by watching an ad for Cox security. Then I peel off my clothes, pin up my hair, and balancing my full glass, sink into Nanna’s perfect tub.
And I let out an epic sigh.
No, it’s not a sigh of relief. It’s too full of sadness to be a sigh of relief. But the hot water feels nice, and I’m not drunk, but I have a pretty sweet buzz going. I know there’s some rule about drinking and hot baths, but it’s not like my first three glasses went into an empty stomach.
But I make a point just to sip this one, enjoying the cool, fruity crispness on my tongue as steam from the bathwater curls the little hairs at the back of my neck and sweat beads above my lip.
Lark still isn’t back. I shut my eyes against the fresh pain of this realization.
He’s probably not coming back tonight. It’s hard to imagine him coming back at all. Except maybe to pack his stuff.
