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There was a moment of shocked silence.
Avery dropped the nail polish back into her bag. “You mean, a woman?”
“Of course, a woman. Grief doesn’t make you change your sexual orientation.” She wrapped her arms round herself. Why did she feel so angry and moody all the time? Maybe she should join a gym. Take up kickboxing or something, instead of snapping the heads off those closest to her.
Avery sat down on the bed next to her, a gesture that reflected the impact of this news. “How do you know?”
“He brought her home.”
“OMG you met her?” Charlie abandoned the makeup and flopped down on the bed, too. “What’s she like?”
Smiley, Izzy thought. Smiley, pretty and absolutely nothing like Izzy’s mother. Her mom would never have worn bright colors, or let her hair tumble wild over her shoulders the way Flora did. Flora was arty, a little bohemian and—
Cool.
Izzy sat, drenched in panic. Where had that thought come from? Flora wasn’t cool, she was a homewrecker.
“Izz?” Charlie prompted her. “What’s she like?”
What did it matter what she was like? They were asking all the wrong questions.
She wished now that she hadn’t told them about Flora, but it was too late to take the words back.
“I met her for a couple of hours, that’s all.” But Flora had made her dad smile. Several times.
Izzy hadn’t seen her dad smile properly in a long time. He delivered forc
ed smiles of course. The ones that said he was doing okay. She knew all about those smiles. They originated from the outside and took so much effort your face ached. But spontaneous smiles? Smiles that came from inside, and were genuine? She hadn’t seen one of those from her father before Flora came to dinner.
“Does she have kids of her own?”
“I don’t think so.” But she didn’t know. She didn’t know anything about Flora and she’d been so panicked and threatened to see another woman in the house she hadn’t asked many questions.
“Probably doesn’t have kids, or she would have talked about them. But let’s hope she at least likes kids. Was she kind to Molly?” Charlie caught Avery’s eye. “What? We’ve all read the stories about wicked stepmothers. And Cam’s stepmother really is a witch. She brews all these herbs. It’s seriously creepy. I never drink anything that hasn’t come out of a sealed can when I’m over at his place.”
Izzy’s chest felt tight. “She’s not going to be my stepmother.” But they’d voiced her deepest fear. That this relationship wasn’t casual. That it wasn’t going to go away, it was simply going to get worse.
She imagined sleepwalking to the bathroom one morning and bumping into Flora. Worse, Molly bumping into Flora. Izzy would have to talk to her about sex. The thought made her sweat.
“I guess it might be nice to have an adult around,” Avery said tentatively. “They could look after Molly and we’d see more of you. I mean, you’re always busy doing stuff in the house.”
“I don’t mind. I like it.”
She didn’t want anyone interfering around the house, and she didn’t want anyone else taking care of Molly. How could they? They wouldn’t know how to handle her the way Izzy did. Having a stranger around would simply add to Molly’s stress, and her little sister was already stressed enough. The night after Flora had come for dinner, Molly had taken ages to settle. When she’d eventually fallen asleep, she’d had the worst nightmare of her life. She’d woken up sobbing and it had taken Izzy over an hour to settle her down again. She’d almost fetched her dad, but she knew he had to be up early in the morning and although she’d never admit it to anyone, she liked the way it felt when Molly crawled into her bed. It gave her something to focus on other than herself. It kept her head in the moment, rather than allowing her brain free rein to explore the past and the future.
Her job was to keep everything as normal as possible in the home. To be indispensable. So she’d cuddled Molly, flicked on the low light her sister found comforting and read to her until she’d fallen asleep again. With Molly clinging to her, Izzy could pretend everything was going to be all right. Molly loved her. Molly needed her. Somehow, this whole mess would work out.
Izzy had wondered about the nightmare, though. Was Flora responsible? She felt angry with her dad for making a bad situation worse. Still, at least her dad and Flora hadn’t been hugging and kissing at the table, so there was that. She’d been watching for it, ready to intervene if she witnessed any behavior unsuitable for Molly. But there was nothing. Izzy might have thought that her father and Flora were no more than friends if it hadn’t been for that one glance. That one single, longing glance Flora had sent her father and that Izzy had seen.
He hadn’t noticed because he’d been focused on Molly at the time, but Izzy had noticed.
“So, I mean—” Avery paused, like someone about to step onto ice and wondering if it would give way and drown her in frozen waters “—presumably he likes her or he wouldn’t have brought her home to meet you. Meeting the kids is kind of a big deal.”
How could a few words crush you?
She’d been trying to minimize it in her head. “Maybe.”
“I guess it’s not so surprising. Your dad is kinda hot.”
