of real, up-close girls.”
Carson gestured to Reyna and Lucy. “Hello, do I look scared of you guys?”
“We don’t count.”
“Anyway, be happy you’re alone,” Reyna said. “Love is hell and will end in a fight.” She gave them the update on her parents’ divorce: her mother’s lawyer was on a two-week vacation in Italy, so everything was on hold. “I just want it to be over,” she said.
Lucy half listened and half focused on trying to peel her orange all in one strip while Reyna went on about how her dad suddenly wanted them to all go to temple together, getting way too into the family-therapy stuff and “expressing his feelings” to Reyna and her sister. “He’s constantly asking us how we’re doing. He doesn’t get that it’s too late.”
“Men,” Carson said disdainfully.
“It’s not a joke.”
“I know. Sorry. Lay your divorce woes on me, and I will joke no more.”
“That’s it for today,” Reyna said.
Carson looked to Lucy. “So what’s going on with you?”
She held up her orange peel. “This. Bow to me.”
“Nice.”
“Lucy didn’t tell you about Temnikova dying?” Reyna asked.
“Who?”
“My brother’s piano teacher.”
“Lucy gave her mouth-to-mouth.”
“Lucky lady,” Carson said. “Except for the dying part.”
“They already replaced her,” Lucy said.
Reyna raised her eyebrows. “Whoa. Whiplash.”
“The guy they got is like…” Lucy shrugged. “Young.”
“Cute?”
Lucy got out her phone and looked up Will’s head shot online. She passed it to Reyna, who said, “He’s not
that
young. Or cute.”
She handed the phone to Carson. “I have no opinion,” he said.
“Cute is as cute does,” Lucy said, taking back her phone. Her standards of attraction were…different from her peers, as far as she could tell. She didn’t find any of the so-called hot guys at school very interesting, and she was pretty sure she was the only person at Speare who understood Mr. Charles’s appeal. For her it was a combination of kindness and smartness and good humour. And the eyes. Something in the eyes. It all came together to make his face more than the sum of its parts. It was kind of the same way with Will. She didn’t know him that well yet, but she could tell he had one of those personalities that might make up for whatever was missing.
“Anyway, it’s supposed to be nice this weekend,” Reyna said. “We should do something.”
Carson scrolled through his phone with his thumb. “When you say ‘we’, am I actually invited, too, or are you talking about you and Lucy like usual? I mean, should I be paying attention right now or tuning you out and pretending my feelings aren’t hurt?”
“The first one.”
They made a plan to get Carson after Lucy’s orthodontist appointment and drive down to Half Moon Bay, in Reyna’s car, while she still had it. It was another potential casualty of the divorce, since the lease was in Dr. Bauman’s name.
It would be good to get out of the house and be reminded there was more to life than what went on there.
When she got home after school, she went in the back door, sweaty from her walk up the hill. Martin sat on a stool at the kitchen island, his notebook and a cup of tea in front of him. He’d worked for their family for ever; Grandma Beck had hired him when Lucy was a baby, after Martin had just turned forty.
“There she is,” he said, looking up briefly. “I’m making a grocery list. Anything you need?”
Lucy set her bag in the serving pantry and inventoried the snack situation. “Can you get pistachios? And some hot chocolate? The spicy kind.”
He jotted a note with his fountain pen. Martin never used a rollerball or gel pen, and most definitely not an old-school ballpoint. One shelf on the spice rack was totally dedicated to storing his little bottles of ink – mostly shades of blue and purple. Once, when Lucy was a kid, she’d taken a bottle of ink up to her room to play with,
Carson gestured to Reyna and Lucy. “Hello, do I look scared of you guys?”
“We don’t count.”
“Anyway, be happy you’re alone,” Reyna said. “Love is hell and will end in a fight.” She gave them the update on her parents’ divorce: her mother’s lawyer was on a two-week vacation in Italy, so everything was on hold. “I just want it to be over,” she said.
Lucy half listened and half focused on trying to peel her orange all in one strip while Reyna went on about how her dad suddenly wanted them to all go to temple together, getting way too into the family-therapy stuff and “expressing his feelings” to Reyna and her sister. “He’s constantly asking us how we’re doing. He doesn’t get that it’s too late.”
“Men,” Carson said disdainfully.
“It’s not a joke.”
“I know. Sorry. Lay your divorce woes on me, and I will joke no more.”
“That’s it for today,” Reyna said.
Carson looked to Lucy. “So what’s going on with you?”
She held up her orange peel. “This. Bow to me.”
“Nice.”
“Lucy didn’t tell you about Temnikova dying?” Reyna asked.
“Who?”
“My brother’s piano teacher.”
“Lucy gave her mouth-to-mouth.”
“Lucky lady,” Carson said. “Except for the dying part.”
“They already replaced her,” Lucy said.
Reyna raised her eyebrows. “Whoa. Whiplash.”
“The guy they got is like…” Lucy shrugged. “Young.”
“Cute?”
Lucy got out her phone and looked up Will’s head shot online. She passed it to Reyna, who said, “He’s not
that
young. Or cute.”
She handed the phone to Carson. “I have no opinion,” he said.
“Cute is as cute does,” Lucy said, taking back her phone. Her standards of attraction were…different from her peers, as far as she could tell. She didn’t find any of the so-called hot guys at school very interesting, and she was pretty sure she was the only person at Speare who understood Mr. Charles’s appeal. For her it was a combination of kindness and smartness and good humour. And the eyes. Something in the eyes. It all came together to make his face more than the sum of its parts. It was kind of the same way with Will. She didn’t know him that well yet, but she could tell he had one of those personalities that might make up for whatever was missing.
“Anyway, it’s supposed to be nice this weekend,” Reyna said. “We should do something.”
Carson scrolled through his phone with his thumb. “When you say ‘we’, am I actually invited, too, or are you talking about you and Lucy like usual? I mean, should I be paying attention right now or tuning you out and pretending my feelings aren’t hurt?”
“The first one.”
They made a plan to get Carson after Lucy’s orthodontist appointment and drive down to Half Moon Bay, in Reyna’s car, while she still had it. It was another potential casualty of the divorce, since the lease was in Dr. Bauman’s name.
It would be good to get out of the house and be reminded there was more to life than what went on there.
When she got home after school, she went in the back door, sweaty from her walk up the hill. Martin sat on a stool at the kitchen island, his notebook and a cup of tea in front of him. He’d worked for their family for ever; Grandma Beck had hired him when Lucy was a baby, after Martin had just turned forty.
“There she is,” he said, looking up briefly. “I’m making a grocery list. Anything you need?”
Lucy set her bag in the serving pantry and inventoried the snack situation. “Can you get pistachios? And some hot chocolate? The spicy kind.”
He jotted a note with his fountain pen. Martin never used a rollerball or gel pen, and most definitely not an old-school ballpoint. One shelf on the spice rack was totally dedicated to storing his little bottles of ink – mostly shades of blue and purple. Once, when Lucy was a kid, she’d taken a bottle of ink up to her room to play with,
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