Read Online The Implosion of Aggie Winchester by Lara Zielin - Free Book Online Page B

our way to the fishing supplies. We looked at lures in silence for a few minutes until my dad cleared his throat. “Your mom has her surgery Monday,” he said. I looked up from where I was studying the bobbers.
    So this was why he’d wanted to go bait shopping.
    “I know,” I replied.
    “I’ll take her in, and she’ll be home the same day. Recovery isn’t too long, but she’s not supposed to lift things that are heavy. We might need your help for a few days. Around the house, that is.”
    I nodded. My ears were starting to feel warm. I wished they would melt away so I didn’t have to listen to any of this. I wanted to pretend my mom was fine.
    I turned back to the bobbers. I closed my eyes against the vision of the doctors lopping off my mom’s boob if the lumpectomy didn’t work.
    “Your mom is putting on a brave face, but I know she’s worried. And I know you guys fought today. About Sylvia.”
    My eyes snapped open. So my mom had told my dad about Sylvia, too. “I’m not taking sides here,” my dad continued. “I’m just asking you to try and get along with your mom for a bit. Just to make this go a little easier. Okay?”
    The red and white of the bobbers blurred together. I’d be a total bitch if I couldn’t do that much. I told myself it wouldn’t be that hard. I’d vacuum once or twice and bring her some soup in bed. And try not to snap at her. I supposed it was doable.
    “Fine,” I said. “I can try.”
    My dad squeezed my shoulder. “Thanks, Ag.” His eyes were all soft-looking, his forehead creased. I shifted. I didn’t want to have a warm fuzzy family moment right there in the hardware store. Come to think of it, I didn’t want to have a warm fuzzy family moment period.
    “Can we just get this stuff and go?” I asked.
    My dad nodded and, much to my relief, we headed to the counter.

Chapter Nine
    SATURDAY, APRIL 11 / 5:30 A.M.
    The next morning, my alarm blasted me out from under the covers at five thirty. Once I’d rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I saw my cell phone light blinking. I had a missed text message. I checked it and saw it had been sent at three o’clock in the morning, and consisted of one word.
     
    Hey.
     
    It was from Neil.
    A single thought went through my brain when I read it: Neil is fishing, too . I wanted to kick myself for the way my heart sped up when I saw it, the way my skin started to warm. I still had to fight the urge to text him back, no matter how much he’d hurt me.
    I spent the drive to the opener wondering how much more fight I had left in me. If he kept wanting me, I worried I might say okay again. And again. And then I’d never be over him. Ever.
    I pushed the thoughts of Neil aside when Fitz Peterson headed my way. I was standing on the boat landing, waiting for my dad to check the bilge, when I spotted him.
    “Hey,” I said.
    “You ready to get out on the water?” Fitz asked, jamming a gray wool cap on his head that by all accounts should have looked ridiculous, but was somehow almost cute. “I’m not sure if the bass are going to be biting, but I guess we’ll see.”
    This was more than Fitz had said to me for weeks. Ever since he’d driven me home from Jefferson’s party, he’d talked way less in study hall. I figured that either I’d done something stupid in his car and couldn’t remember it or he was embarrassed at having heard such a loaded conversation between Neil and me. I was certainly mortified he’d overheard it, that was for sure.
    “My dad thinks there’s going to be bass beds,” I said, stamping my feet to keep my blood circulating in the earlymorning cold.
    “This early in the season?” Fitz asked.
    “I know, right? I told him he was crazy.”
    Fitz took his hat back off and turned it around in his hands. Even in the watery dawn light, I could see spots where the fabric was pilling. “I heard about Sylvia,” he said after a moment. “About her being pregnant.”
    First my mom, now Fitz. Sylvia had told me