Page 66 of The Difference Between

“Hear that, Sylvia?” Mom chirps, pointing an annoyed finger at me. “That’s the problem right there. Her sarcasm needs to be taken out back and shot. And she’s getting pregnant for work. By a sperm donor.” She glares at me. “Who she’s stalking.”

I blow out the biggest, loudest breath of my life. “That is not true.” To Sylvia—like I owe her a damn thing—I say, “She’s exaggerating. The donor I’m meeting next weekend is in real estate and having a public open house.” I smile sweetly. “Happy now? No stalking required.”

“The question is,” Sylvia says with a purse of her lips, “are you happy now?”

“I’ll be a lot happier once I’m not getting lung cancer from your foul-smelling incense.”

Sylvia’s body jolts.

“Whoa!” She closes her eyes and hovers her hands just inches from my body. She’s eerily still before going berserk. “I’m getting something here. I’m getting something!” She sways, really trying to sell it. “I see . . .” She opens one eye then snaps it closed. There must be six pounds of glitter on her eyelids. “A woman. Who has found herself lost. Overworked. In need of—” She shimmies. “Guidance.” Fuck me. “But is struggling to take it. And . . .” She makes a drawn out ehhhh sound. “Needs to recalibrate her energy. And. And.” She points her finger straight into the air and cocks her chin. “Learn to relinquish control.”

She opens her eyes, clasps her hands, and smiles proud.

My mother, that stupid, stupid woman, claps. “That’s exactly what I told her, Sylvia. Isn’t that what I said last night, Reese?”

“What I heard was you asking me to make you a ward of the state, Mother.”

“Tell her what she needs to do, Sylvia,” Mom says. “You see how stubborn she is. Won’t listen to a word I say. Just like Rue was.”

I scoff. “It’s called being practical, ever heard of it?”

My mom looks at Sylvia with a you see what I’m saying look.

Abruptly, Sylvia takes my hand in hers; they’re clammy. She drags the fingernail of her index finger down my forearm then pokes the middle of my palm, looking me dead in the eyes. “The seekers of control are the most ignorant of all. The solution is in plain sight, but only if you’re looking.”

My mom brings a hand to her mouth, utterly awestruck.

“Okay.” I pry my hand free. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. We have to go. Thanks for—” I look around this New Age-painted circle of hell. The crystals. The bullshit. “The entertainment.”

“Of course,” Sylvia says with a wide smile. She slips behind the counter and takes a bite of her abandoned sandwich. “That’ll be one-fifty even.”

My eyes narrow. “What?”

Mom elbows me. “That’s the friends and family discount, Reese,” she explains. “I don’t have my purse. I’ll wait in the car while you pay.”

“Pay for what?”

“For what?” Mom laughs like I’ve told a joke. “She just solved all your problems.” She waves at Sylvia. “Thanks, Syl.”

My mom exits the building—without the walker—and I slap my credit card down and glare at Syl. “I hate you.”

She grins and swipes the card, completely unbothered as mayonnaise once again clings to the corners of her mouth. “I knew you were going to say that.”

Nineteen

The only thing worse than my mother’s smug expression is the reason behind it. As we park in her driveway, Gavin parks in his.

Even her breaths turn chipper.

“Shut up,” I snap.

“I didn’t say anything,” she argues.

With a smile.

I avoid looking in their direction, but at Addie’s shouted “Hi, Miss Reese,” I have no choice.

Addie meets my slight wave with one that involves her whole arm.