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He drags me over to the swings, and somehow Chloe has already asserted dominance over every other child within a ten-meter radius. With her newfound domination, she’s kicked some of the other kids off the swings and deposited herself and Ava into the best seats in the park.
Noah walks over to her and smacks her in her knees. “Hey, let me have a go.”
“Say please,” she says, pouting at him.
“Please,” he whines, pouting back. Although their weird sibling-mirroring thing isn’t nearly as strong as that of Mandy and Joey, the way they mimic each other is still kind of scary.
I wonder if Jason and I ever had any sort of psychic abilities like that. I can’t remember us ever being that way. He’s always seemed kind of distant to me. Like we both knew that I was the crown prince and that I had a legacy, and that he could be more free than I would ever, ever be allowed to be.
I think I always resented him in a way. I resented his ability to have a sense of humor. To have a life. Sure, he has his work and his wife, but I think I’ve always resented the fact that he has no responsibilities at all except what he wants and what he’s going to do. Not like me with the whole company riding on my shoulders.
But now, looking at his kids, I realize that hedoeshave a responsibility. This is a much bigger responsibility than I ever would have suspected. Everyone seems to think that this is normal — getting married, having kids, buying a house. That’s the easy, natural progression for life to take. And though buying a house wasn’t ever a worry for me, I guess I always assumed marriage and kids was beneath me, an easy task for “normal” people. But the truth is, it’ssomuch harder than the stories make it out to be.
Noah turns to look at me from his newfound throne of a swing. “Uncle Lucas, push!”
I grab the swing in both hands, pull it back and let him go. He whoops in delight, and I let myself give a small smile at his joy. I really have changed. I’ve given at least three genuine and real smiles in the last week alone. What was once the mark of weakness has suddenly become what it is for everyone else: a sign of happiness.
From over Noah’s shoulder, I have a good view of Katie and Sophie still standing where we were against the tree. They’re giggling about something, leaning in and whispering like they’re sharing a conspiracy. I’d kill to know what they’re talking about.
But I’m pretty sure bugging people is illegal, and I’m also sure that putting some sort of recording device on Sophie would be a surefire way of making her stop trusting me.
My imagination is doing a good enough job of filling in anyway. All the thoughts it’s providing are unpleasant and not entirely unrealistic. I imagine them saying stuff likeisn't he terrible with the kids?andhe's such a horrible person, andI can't wait until I never have to see his stupid face again. I’ve always hated working for him.
I shouldn't have been so snappy with Katie. But I can’t exactly go and say sorry. I’m torn between the performance of who I usually am and the man I’m hoping to become.
“Keep pushing!” commands Noah as he swings back into my hands. I obey, giving him enough force so that he can kick his legs out wildly and lean back until it must look like the entire sky is upside down. His entire face is cracked open in a huge smile, his tiny, crooked teeth all visible as he laughs.
I think I get it now, the expressionchildlike wonder. And I think I get why everyone’s trying to get it back.
CHAPTER 19
SOPHIE
“Icannot believe thatthatis Lucas Adler,” says Katie, folding her arms. She’s squinting as she watches Lucas and the kids like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Which is fair enough. I have spent almost my entire employment with him complaining about what an annoying, selfish and arrogant man he can be.
Knowing Katie, it’s a surprise she didn’t just smack him at the exact second she figured out who he was.
“I know,” I say. “Something really strange has been happening in the last few days.”
“Strange how?” Katie says narrowing her eyes, scrutinizing me.
With her, it's sometimes hard to remember that I am in fact the older sibling. She’s always been like this — perceptive and sharp and absolutely unwilling to let anything go until she gets to the bottom of it. “I don't know,” I shrug. “When he asked me to functionally become his live-in nanny—”
“Wait,” Katie cuts me off. “You’re living in his house?”
“It seemed easier,” I say, blushing slightly. “The commute from my house to the office to his would have been awful.”
“I see…” says Katie, the subtext as obvious as if she’d said it outright.
“Look, whatever you think’s going on, it’s not,” I say. “I promise. For the last two weeks he’s been as wretched as ever. Barely helped with the kids or housekeeping. I’ve hardly seen him at all, and he’s expected the exact same workload as ever from me.”
“But…?” She elbows me slightly to push me through my hesitation. I swear she can be the most infuriating person. On the whole planet. And that’s why I would trust her with anything.
“But,” I say pointedly, “last night he got dinner in for us. And we ate and we talked, and it was kind of nice. And this morning he made breakfast. And that was kind of nice, too.”
“Oh, he madebreakfasttoday,” says Katie, her tone dripping with sardonic insinuation. I let out a huff in response, not trusting myself to say anything else.
Instead, I look out to the playground. Lucas is pushing Noah on the swings. He’s even smiling. To anyone else, it would look like a normal dad and his kid enjoying a day out. You wouldn't think anything was strange about it at all.
