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His head drops forward as he shakes it, chuckling in that low, gruff way of his.
When he looks up, there’s amusement in his eyes. He walks over and sits at the other end of the couch. “Okay, what’s the deal with Stella?”
“It’s going to sound weird. I know it. But she sort of represents my life goals.”
Axel stills, his smile going flat.
And considering Stella is dead, maybe that isn’t the best opening. But oh well. “You know about my family. That there are twelve of us and that I helped raise most of my siblings?”
I don’t really like to talk about what my life was like growing up. Even when I was in high school, I kept it close to the vest. And back this summer, when Axel and I first met, I can’t imagine having shared it with him. I wanted to be normal. Just another girl.
But now, after everything we’ve been through and the way Axel has laid himself bare, letting me see him at his most vulnerable, I trust him.
“Yeah, I know.” He reaches for my foot, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Taking care of that many other people is hard, no matter how much you love them.” And I do. I can’t help but smile at the memory of little hands clinging to my shirt, my legs. Big eyes peering up at me with such trust and love.
“It couldn’t leave much time for you to be a kid, though,” he says, no longer teasing.
“Or a teen, or an adult. From as far back as I can remember, I was my mom’s ‘little helper,’ changing diapers and comforting crying babies. Finding games to keep the younger kids occupied.” Working with the ladies who would come over from the church once a week because we were the family who needed that kind of help.
“It was a lot. And there were times when I felttrapped. Like I’d never have a life of my own, but my mom needed my help, and I loved my family, so it was okay that I didn’t have time for friends or boyfriends. That I didn’t even have enough left to keep a plant alive. I figured someday I would.”
“Jesus, Nora.” His mouth is pulled down into a hard frown. “There are times when it feels like the two of us together can’t manage one crying Otto. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for you.”
Like a constant cycle of giving everything I had and it never being enough. There never being a break.
“But what about your brothers and sisters? I mean, didn’t they start helping so you could, fuck, I don’t know, take a breath?”
“Some. But with that many of us, as soon as the other kids were old enough, they had to start contributing financially. So, when they weren’t in school, they were working, and we still had so many little ones. And I was the one who could help the most. So, while they left, I stayed.”
“But your parents.” His voice cracks. “Didn’t they see that you needed something more than that?”
“My dad works three jobs. He’s a great guy, but he sort of just trusts my mom to handle the homelife stuff. And my mom is… She loves children. Loves our family. Wanted a houseful of kids and didn’t stop until the doctors told her she couldn’t have any more after my youngest brother.” Danny. Not quite a year yet. “But it never really occurred to her that if she needed help with our family, I wouldn’t help her. She’s not a bad person. She just—”
I don’t even know how to explain or justify it without making her sound like a user or a villain. She’s not. She’s my mother, and this is my family.
Taking a deep breath, I go on. “I love them all. But I needed something else. And then, this past May, we went to a family reunion. Diane was there. We talked a lot, and I made some crack about not getting a lot of opportunities to talk with adults. She looked around and then looked back at me, and I swear, something clicked. Like she justgot it.”
His thumb moves over my ankle, his fingers wrapped in a snug hold around my arch. “And she offered you a job.”
“She offered me a way out. A place to live. A paycheck so I could send enough money home that they could hire some help to make up for me not being there. And suddenly I was free. I thought I was finally going to startliving.”
I know what he’s thinking. I can see it in his eyes.
That even back at Diane’s, I was always home. That I never had any plans of my own.
I don’t wait for him to ask what happened.
“At first, moving out was amazing. It seemed like potential and opportunity lurked around every corner. Less than a week of living in Chicago, and I met this charming, handsome guywithout even leaving my building.”
I cut him a sidelong look, thinking he’ll laugh, but he doesn’t. He looks devastated.
“Nora—”
I wave him off. “It’s okay. Look, what I’m getting to is this. I was too naive to recognize what that whole chatty business was. I imagined a life of friends and fancy coffees and chic restaurants. And yes, I could go to the Starbucks down the street or to one of the restaurants around the corner, but I still didn’t have friends to meet me there. Diane traveled almost all of the time. And in a very real way, I was more alone, more isolated than I’d been trapped at home. So, I made a plan. I’d start small. Focus on one thing at a time. I’d be the best employee Diane could hope for. I’d get the experience I needed, and eventually, I’d be able to get a job with someone who wasn’t a blood relative, maybe work in an office. I’d make friends there. And until then, I’d buy a plant. A little houseplant like the kind I’d never been able to keep alive at home. It would be the first step toward living the life I’d dreamed of for myself. Only—”
“Only Stella died.”
