Page 32

Donna’s head hangs. “I should never have accepted it. I just didn’t know what else to do.” Tears well in her eyes as she looks at me. “You worked so hard, and put up with so much, and I still took your money.”

I feel Luke’s stare and ignore it, reaching across the table for her hand. “Donna, it was fine. You didn’t have a choice anyway. Let’s be honest, the pastor didn’t want me here and he probably didn’t want Luke here either. You were constantly worried that one small thing would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. What else could you have done?”

Luke shoves his plate away. “I don’t understand. Juliet was giving you money…to feed me? That makes no sense. I offered to pay room and board when I arrived here, and you refused.”

“The pastor didn’t want your money,” she whispers. “It was a pride thing. He was embarrassed to have you think he couldn’t afford you here.”

“But he was okay with taking Juliet’s money?” He runs a hand through his hair, gripping hard. “I made way more than she did and needed it less.”

She exhales heavily. “I didn’t tell him. I spent so much time being scared of his reaction over such small things. I hate that. And I hate that I resent him for them now when he can’t even defend himself.”

Luke turns to me, his eyes dark as night. “How long did that go on for?”

I push my chair from the table. Any appetite I had is gone, and I need to get the hell out of this room. “I don’t even remember. It really wasn’t a big deal.”

“How. Long?”

Goose bumps crawl along my arms.

“She did it for both of the summers you were with us,” Donna replies. “Two full summers.”

He winces. “So even when I was being awful to you. Even then you were paying for me to be here.”

He wants an answer beyond a simple “yes” or “no.” Because, really, he’s asking a different question entirely: How could you care about me that much, and then do what you did?

He can spend his entire life waiting for the answer. I’m never telling him a thing.

He stands outside my door that night for a very long time.

14

THEN

DECEMBER 2013

Danny arrives home for winter break on my last day of second quarter.

We only go to one Westside party and nothing at the beach at all, which I’m fine with. There are also no dates, but I guess there never were, aside from when Danny and I first met. The shit I’ve seen on TV is laughable anyway. How many high school students are actually enjoying candlelit meals in fancy restaurants or riding in limos like they do on Gossip Girl? None that I know.

With Luke gone, though, everything is better. I’m not the third wheel. I don’t feel fake and conspicuous when I help Donna around the house, and I’m capable of at least trying to see the world the way she does, finding comfort in the small joys: a crisp winter night, a roaring fire, the smell of the Christmas tree. The Allens are content people by nature, and I am not, but if I could even manage to get halfway to where they are, that would be enough. Life is easier when you’re not wanting more than you have every minute of the day.

The diner closes early on Christmas Eve, so I spend the afternoon helping Donna with supper. We eat in the dining room rather than the kitchen, which Donna and I have set with candles and holly. Christmas music plays softly and the whole house smells like pine.

This is a good life. There’s a spark of something in my heart, a taste of that contentment Donna and Danny find so easily. I silently pray as we start eating, that I can help build that spark into a fire. That I can convince myself it’s all enough.

The pastor talks about the work he’d like Danny to do next summer, his role expanded now from what it was. I didn’t think of pastoring as a profession you passed down to your son, but the pastor sure seems to be doing his best. Danny would be good at it, too, certainly better than the pastor, but I’m not sure I could ever be Donna—I’d school those bitches who come into the diner so fast if I had half her authority.

“So will Luke be coming home with you next summer?” Donna asks.

I stop chewing, waiting to hear his answer.

“I don’t know,” Danny replies. “The construction firm he was with last summer offered him a bonus to come back, but now he’s talking about staying in San Diego.”

Donna’s brow furrows. “Well, that makes no sense at all. Did he meet a girl?”

Danny laughs. “There isn’t a day that goes by when Luke isn’t meeting a girl. I don’t think that’s it.”

Suddenly, nothing about tonight brings me contentment. The pie crust sticks to my tongue, the air smells sickly sweet, the music is overly sentimental.