“Yes.”
“And this isn’t something that they can fill your spot, if you’re not there?”
I pause. “Theycould, if I tell them early enough.” I add quickly, “BUT it’s too late to do that, they won’t be able to get anyone today, not at the level I am with the gear I have. If I don’t show up, they’ll be screwed.”
“Hmm.” Her lips press together. She looks down at her hands. She isn’t pushing back, which I take as a positive sign.
“Can we hang out tomorrow?” I offer as I head for the door. I need to get out of here before she can say anything else that makes me feel bad. I can’t afford this kind of distraction before the raid.
“Of course,” she says, but the tension doesn’t leave her. “Evie, wait. I’d like to talk before you go back to your room.”
I stop half in and half out of the kitchen, hidden partially by the doorframe. Mom sits at the table and motions for me to take the seat across from her. I don’t want to. Every single cell resists. But it will only be worse for me if I don’t do it. I might lose my computer entirely, and today I can’t risk that.
I sit. She is quiet for a moment, watching me. I can’t make eye contact.
“I want to talk about your dad.”
I grip the edges of my seat to stay in it.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I think there are things you don’t remember about him, and you need to know them.”
I don’t remember much of anything about him, except what he looked like, and that’s only because Mom has kept all the pictures of him on the walls, on the mantel. He had my dark blond hair, my skin tone. He was chubby, barrel-chested, and in most pictures, had scruff if not a full-on beard.
He died of lung cancer, despite not smoking a day in his life.
“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I ask.
“Is your game that important?” She doesn’t look away from me or raise her voice. The accusation is all the more powerful for it. “This won’t take long, I promise.”
I go quiet.
“When I met your dad, he was the happiest person I knew. He was nice to everyone. He was funny. He would always help you if you needed it, and always offered even if you didn’t. That was what everyone thought of him, because that’s what everyone saw. I guess I didn’t expect him to be that way all the time, but it was still a surprise when we moved in together.” She pauses. Her fingers pick at the tablecloth. “He had dark times, especially inthe winter. All that joy just disappeared, like it was smothered. He didn’t want to talk to his friends, or go out and do things. He didn’tlikethings anymore. He’d get focused on things he normally didn’t care about, like climate change and world politics. They made him angry. He’d be upset for days, and then the sun would come out and he’d go for a walk, and he’d seem okay again.
“That was a while before you were born. He had those times after you were born too, but you were too little to notice. I asked him if there was anything I could help him with. He always said no. I think he’d been dealing with it for so long that he didn’t realize there was anything wrong.
“When he got his diagnosis, things got better for a while. It was like... somethingimmediatewas happening. Things were actually as bad as he’d thought they were, so it was easier to bear. I still can’t say I understand it, but he didn’t have one of those dark spells for a long time. Then it... didn’t matter anymore.” She pauses again, but the pause drags out too long, and eventually she has just stopped speaking.
“So Dad was depressed before the cancer,” I say.
Mom gives me an inscrutable look. “I see a lot of him in you. You get focused the way he used to. You’ve lost all interest in the things you used to like.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to kill myself.”
She flinches. I don’t intend to hurt her, but I can’t avoid it anymore.
“I know that. But I can see the signs—”
“I’m not depressed.”
“Evie.”
My own name grates me. Using it like I’m not the only one there. Like she’s trying to manipulate me. “I was fine before Alissa died,” I say, jaw tight. “Everything that’s been happening is because of what she did. Now I’m different.Anyonewould be different after that.”
“Of course. Of course they would. That’s not... it’s not aboutwhatcaused you to feel this way. That wasn’t why I told you all this.” She shakes her head, trying to backtrack. “Your dad didn’t think there was anything wrong with him, so he never knew to ask for help. I thought he knew best. He was the one in his own head, after all. But when we’re like this, we lie to ourselves—”
“How would you know what Dad was thinking?” I push away from the table. “Him being happy and nice and funny could’ve been the lie. Maybe he was happier when he was watching the news or being angry about things thatactually mattered.” I’ve never spent a lot of time thinking about him, but the sudden image of my dad as someone like me, someone who throws aside pointless things and relentlessly pursues what matters, has my heart swelling in my chest. It makes me even angrier. “Icareabout the things I’m doing right now. I’m not going to stop because you don’t get it. I’m not lying to myself. I understand things better now than I ever did.”
