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“Em, can I say something?” She sets the fruit down and squinches her brows into a serious expression.
“When have you ever held your tongue?” I ask.
She doesn’t laugh. “I’m leaving for college soon. At least, I hope so.” She swallows hard and glances to the side. “I hate thinking of you here all by yourself.”
“You make it sound like I’m a recluse.”
She twirls the apple around by the stem. “Besides, I like Dex.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “I noticed.”
She stares at the kitchen door with a dreamy expression. “I like the way he watches you when you’re not even looking.”
I set my pizza down. “He does?”
“Yup.” She flicks her fingers toward the window and our backyard. “From that first time he showed up with Gray to do the lawn.” She wrinkles her nose. “He’s kinda serious, though.”
“And I’m not?”
“You’re fun but,” she sighs and sets the apple down, “you had to be a parent way too young. Jeez, Em, I’ll be nineteen in a few years and I can’t imagine doing what you did. What you still do for me.”
Emotion clogs my throat and I take a sip of water before answering her. “We had Aunt—”
“I loved Auntie Kimmy,” she cuts me off, “but she was old and had health problems. You were more likehercaretaker than she was ours.”
She’s right but it feels icky to speak ill of the woman who took us in after our parents died. Libby didn’t spend summers with Aunt Kim when she was little the way I did, so she doesn’t remember her the same way I do. “I guess.”
She fixes her gaze on the table. “Don’t hate me for saying this, but…you were always like a mom to me anyway, you know? When I was little. I have more memories ofyoubeing there and doing things with me than I do of Mom.”
Something like guilt closes off my throat.It’s not my fault.
“Even before…what happened to them,” she continues. “You dropped me off at school in the mornings.”
“The elementary school was right next to—”
“You’re the one who took me to drama classes, singing lessons, and ballet,” she cuts me off with more heat in her voice. “Youdid all that stuff. Not Mom.”
“Their way of keeping me out of trouble, I guess,” I say with a quick shrug. “Mom and Dad loved you, Libby.”
“Sure. I know. They always came to dance recitals and my plays. Butyouwere the one who was there for the day-to-day stuff.” She stares at me for a long moment. “I’m really sorry they made you do all that.”
“I didn’t mind.”Not too much, anyway.I reach over and pat her hand. “You were always the cutest ballerina in the class.”
She rolls her eyes. “If by cute, you mean clumsiest, then yeah.” Her eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, do you remember Miss Blanch? She was so damn mean.”
I remember telling the elderly ballet instructor if she ever yelled at my sister again in front of the whole class I’d rip her bun out by the roots. But I probably shouldn’t share that story with Libby. “She was very regimented,” I say diplomatically.
“It’s not like I wanted to be a prima ballerina.” Libby rolls her eyes. “But geez, she took everything so seriously.”
“Fun wasn’t in her vocabulary,” I agree.
“Anyway, what I was trying to tell you is, I like Dex. And I like him for you. It’s about time you have someone who looks after you and worries about you the way you worry about everyone else.”
“It’s just you and me, pudding. And you’re pretty self-sufficient these days.”
She slants a don’t-be-dense look at me. “I’m not a little kid. There’s no reason you can’t have Dex stay over if you want him to. Geez,” she flicks her gaze to the ceiling, “I feel like Melanie tells me about finding a different boyfriend of her mom’s in the kitchen every week. Her mom is on like, every dating site out there.”
“Damn, I didn’t know the Johnsonville dating pool was that large,” I tease.
