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Despite this, I wasn’t sure I was in the mood to see him. He would see through my happy façade and ask what was wrong, and that would open a whole can of worms: the gossip, quitting my job, his identity, his fortune—our relationship, whatever it was—and all the other things I least wanted to talk about. But then I remembered Alejandra was taking Sophie for the night, to provide her a little entertainment. I didn’t want to be alone; the idea of being alone struck me as somehow worse than having that dreaded discussion with Lucas. And so, before I had a chance to overthink it, I responded to Lucas:Sounds good, see you then.
I couldn’t say how precisely I passed the rest of that day, only that I didn’t go home. I must have ended up at a bar at some point—again, I couldn’t say when, only that it must have happened—because by the time it was 8:30 and I remembered I had made plans with Lucas, I realized I was walking down Laguna Way, the sun completing its descent over the lake, with no recollection of how I’d gotten there. Either I was drunk, or I was heavily dissociating; in any case, once I realized where I was, I paused a minute, looking out over the lake.
Get it together, Natalie. Get it together.
And I don’t remember much of the rest—I know that Lucas and I crossed paths a few blocks from his home, and he gave me a ride the rest of the way, and that we drank wine and made chitchat, with none of the topics I’d dreaded coming into the orbit of our conversation. We also had sex, really good sex, and for a moment I had forgotten just how awful the day had been. And finally, that I stole away early in the morning, Lucas still fast asleep beside me, almost certain I detected motion from the corner of the living room as I slipped out the door.
But what I do remember is this: it was a day I would rather forget.
16
An Intervention
Lucas
The morning I awoke to find Natalie had left, I decided to go back to my family’s house. It wasn’t that I had any obligation to do so—I’d been a lot less busy those days, and the business was almost at the point of running itself—but it had been so long since I’d been back. Since coming up that first weekend, I hadn’t left; it had been almost three weeks since then. And so I drank my coffee, packed my belongings, and hopped into my car, and within minutes I was breezing down the freeway.
I got home earlier than anticipated, finding my mother sitting in her office.
“Mom,” I said softly, afraid of startling her.
She looked up, and on registering my presence, her expression shifted. She appeared livid.
“Lucas,” she said sternly. “We need to talk.”
I was, by this point, utterly confused. She hadn’t reached out to me, and so I doubted her concern stemmed from the company. Aside from that, I couldn’t imagine what she could possibly need to discuss.
“Alright,” I said, expecting her to explain herself.
“One moment.” She stood up, glided across the room and past me, wordlessly, and paused at the base of the staircase. “Isabella! Come down here!” she shouted.
Within moments my sister was descending the staircase. “Mom, what’s—” she saw me, and suddenly she, too, looked furious. “Lucas,” she said tersely.
“Isa,” I responded, unsure how to register the hostility in her tone.
“Now,” my mother said, setting her hand on my sister’s shoulder. “Let’s go to the living room, we’ll talk there.” And without awaiting a response, she turned on her heels and headed there, my sister and me following closely behind. She sat in the middle of the couch, and Isabella and I sat on either side of her.
“Well,” she began, turning to face me, her voice suddenly softer than before. “I’m sure you know what this is in regard to.”
I shook my head, utterly confused. “No, I really don’t.”
“It’s about that—” my sister began, loudly, almost standing up.
But my mother quickly put her hand on her shoulder. “No, Isabella. You said you’d be calm.”
She paused, suddenly embarrassed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” my mother said, then turned back to me. “It’s that woman you’ve been seeing—” I opened my mouth, but she continued. “Wait, Lucas, please. Mr. Robinson, you remember him, our neighbor by the lake house, he called to say he’d heard you found a young lady for yourself. You hadn’t mentioned anyone, and so I told him he must be confused, but he insisted; it was the talk of the town, that you and this woman were spotted together.” She paused briefly. “But he told me what people are saying, that she’s a gold-digger, a social climber. I know you’re a grown man, but, sweetheart, you need to be careful.”
I was almost too stunned to speak. I didn’t immediately respond, assuming my mother had more to say, but then she fell silent, and the room was thick with tension. “It’s not like that,she’snot like that,” I could finally manage.
“Yeah, right!” interjected Isabella, forgetting once again her pledge to remain calm. “It’s so obvious, Lucas. I mean, come on, he told us she’s aserver. She’s not the kind of person that people like us need to be seen with.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” I retorted. “What was Angelica doing before you two got married— bartending? Or was she a cashier?”
“Shut up,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just shut up. That’s not the same and you know it. Her family was going through a hard time.”
“And so is Natalie’s!” I yelled, a bit louder than I’d intended. “Do you see? You see this hypocrisy? Natalie’s family is struggling too, and on top of that, she has her daughter to—” I stopped myself, immediately realizing my fatal mistake.
