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“You’re not going to read it?”
“We already discussed the contents, and I read it before the revisions. You didn’t bankrupt me in here, did you?”
“No. But if I’d known you weren’t going to look at it, I would have written the house in Houston into it.” It was a joke, sharp and wry though it was.
“Mom wouldn’t be sad to see it go. I don’t think she ever wants to step foot in there again after what she went through there.” I flipped the folio closed and offered it to her.
She took it with a heavy sort of sadness, the kind only found after long-endured suffering. “I’ll send this over, and then all we’ll have are the final papers to sign.”
“What about the court appearance?”
“Only one of us needs to be there. I was just going to do it.”
But I shook my head. “Let me.”
“It doesn’t matter who goes. I don’t know if you’ll be here.”
The thought sent a flash of anxiety through me. But Marnie didn’t need to know my future plans. Hell, I wasn’t even completely sure. So I said, “If I’m here, please let me. You’ve been through enough.”
“Understatement.”
A long stretch of silence passed.
“I didn’t expect to see you here today,” I said stupidly.
“I didn’t come for you. Everything about you hurts me,” she said quietly, painfully. “But they’re my family too.”
“I know. I’m glad you came. I’m sorry I cut it short. I’m just … I’m sorry, Marnie.”
She paused. “I know. But that’s never been enough.”
I wanted to say a million things, but I couldn’t seem to grab one tight enough to speak before she turned to walk toward the elevator, leaving me to toe the edge of the wide, empty space between the life I’d had with her and the one I was living.
14
Fools Rush In
PRESLEY
A week flew past in a hot, sunny blur.
My days were spent at Bettie’s, in the shed making candles and soaps under the Blum brand, and with Sebastian, all around mobilizing a solid portion of the town against the Goody’s invasion. My cousins had taken up the marketing mantle, coming up with a slogan and branding and flyers, and our first meeting had been a massive success. We’d gotten a calendar together for not only weekly meetings, but marches, letter writing, and canvassing, and Evan had the referendum ready to roll and collecting signatures between pouring over legal documents and county regulations looking for a loophole to stop—or, at least delay—the process.
The website was up, and we’d already made a substantial amount of cash selling bumper stickers, t-shirts, yard signs, and all kinds of goodies with the phrase Keep It Local, Lindenbach on any and everything we could print it on. Stan, our “Uber” driver had put a big Keep It Local sticker on the back window of his old Suburban, right next to the fake Uber sign he’d made. You know, just to make sure no one got in the wrong car.
Abuela had come home a few days after her surgery asking when her welcome home party was. So here we were with a solid portion of the town, gathered in the Vargas’s backyard with the pool hopping and the scent of smoking meat in the air. After Wyatt had finally asked Manny out, they’d been inseparable, and were currently sunbathing on the far side of the pool, looking at each other with googly eyes that would have had devil horns for as into each other they were.
But I’d quit ogling them some time ago in favor of watching Sebastian and Priscilla play in the pool.
They’d been playing for long enough that I hoped Sebastian didn’t work out today—his arms and shoulders were paying dues as he chucked Priscilla in the air high enough to make my stomach drop. She’d squeal all the way up, then all the way down with her little floatie strapped around her chest and a pair of snorkel goggles on. He’d just started swimming laps underwater with her hanging onto his neck for dear life when Poppy elbowed me.
“Hmm? What? Did you say something?”
But she laughed. “God, you are such a sucker for him.”
“Don’t tell anybody,” I said with a smile.
“Oh, nobody needs your confirmation. It’s written on you bigger than those bumper stickers we made up.” She took a swig of her beer. “I don’t know how he’s been throwing her up in the air like a football for the last half hour. It’s a real testament to his stamina.”
“You have no idea.”
She snorted.
“How’s the swag table going?” I asked.
“Good. We’re close to enough signatures on the referendum to force a vote. As long as we can hang onto everybody, we’re taking those mothereffers down.”
“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”
“I do, don’t I? It’s hard not to be after talking to Evan about it for a week straight.”
