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“No,” Lila says. “I thought they were sticking to their vacation-fling decision. Nothing serious. Take it easy.”
“D-d-don’t talk about me like I’m not here! I could always hear you whispering. Even when we were kids! It’s scary when you talk about m-m-me!”
Ensley drags a chair close to me and sits down, leaning in. “We don’t want you to be scared, Tillie. We’re here. We’ve got you.”
Lila closes in on the other side. “It’s all right.”
“Is it, though?” I want to pull myself together, but I can’t. I feel like I’m falling headfirst into a swimming pool, but there’s no water to stop me from smashing into the concrete floor.
Ensley sighs. “We tried to tell you.”
“Stop it!” I cry. “You’re the one who ran to Drew over a couple of texts and a night in a shed!”
She has the sense to get quiet over that. I won’t say a word to Lila about Dodge. That’s too low a blow.
“You’ll get past this,” Lila says. “I got past bigger things.”
This jolts me out of tears. It’s true. Lila lost Dodge, not that he was any great catch, and not that she had a choice, but the consequences were bigger because she was pregnant. And now she needs me to help with Rosie. And Ensley needs her chance at happiness.
And none of this works unless we stick together. It’s how we always got by. It’s how we’ll continue to do it.
“I love you guys,” I choke out, and they close in tighter, a sister hug that has to be enough. It’s always been enough. It will have to get me through.
They hang on to me until the smell of smoke wafts in from the kitchen behind us.
“Oh no!” Lila cries, leaping up and rushing to the next room.
The shock of it knocks me out of my tears. We follow her as she opens the oven door. Rolls of smoke pour out.
“Don’t let the fire alarm go off and wake the baby!” Lila cries.
Ensley drags a chair to the smoke detector and stands on tiptoe to rip out the batteries right as the first beep sounds.
I hurry to the window in the dining room and throw it open.
Lila uses a dish towel to push the smoke toward the window.
“Good God,” Ensley says as she climbs back down. “We can’t even make pizza without a disaster.”
“Shut up,” Lila snaps. “We were helping Tillie.”
I wave my hand in front of my face, eyes smarting from the smoke. “Don’t blame me! I’m just the baby!”
Ensley calls for pizza delivery while Lila and I slide the blackened pizzas into the trash. We flap towels at the smoke until it dissipates.
When we’re finally seated with the open pizza box, an extralarge half veggie supreme, olives only on one quarter, and half ham and pineapple, Lila says, “Are we good? Tillie, are you better now?”
I’m not, but I know the drill. Don’t bother saying you’re hungry if there isn’t anything in the fridge. Don’t complain about an outgrown pair of shoes if there’s no way to replace them.
“I’m good.”
But we all know I’m not. We eat pizza in silence until we hear Rosie’s cry. I jump up from my chair. “I’ll get her.”
I rush out of the kitchen to Lila’s room. Rosie is standing in her crib in the corner. “Tuhtuh,” she says, and lifts her chubby arms.
Her tiny body is heavy as I lift her to my shoulder. “Tuhtuh’s here.” I shift from foot to foot as I rock her. “I’ll always be right here.”
It’s the vow I made, the one all of us made. To help each other. It’s why Ensley and I moved to Atlanta in the first place, when Dodge left Lila pregnant and poor. We need each other.
