dipping her fingers in it and making abstract art in one of her school books. The ink didn’t wash off her hands for a couple of days, but Martin never got her in trouble with her parents about it, which made her love him.
“I’ll hide the nuts from your mom,” he said. “She thinks they’re fattening.”
“Did she say something about my weight?” Lucy studied herself in the upper oven door. Same as always. Not gaunt, not chubby.
“No, sweetie. About
her
weight.” Martin set down his pen and ran his hand over the grey stubble that dotted his shaved head. “So what do you think of the new teacher?”
Lucy turned away from her reflection. “I don’t know. I mean, Gus loves him. That makes me happy.”
“Mm.”
“What do you think?”
Martin folded his arms on the kitchen island. “Zoya Temnikova was an extraordinary woman. You probably don’t realize this, but she and I got to know each other in the way only two employees of the household can.”
“Martin. No one thinks of you as an ‘employee of the household’. ”
He smiled. “Okay. The point is I admired her. I’m sad she’s gone. And I’ll miss the bottle of Stoli she gave me every Christmas.” He straightened up and tore his grocery list off his notepad. “That said, I think Will is exactly what Gus needs. And I’ll tell you this: your grandmother would have absolutely adored him.”
“How do you know?” Lucy asked. She suspected he was right. “You’ve only met him like twice.”
“I just do. The two of them are – would be – kindred spirits.”
For the rest of the week, Lucy made a point of not being home when Will was there. She didn’t want to hear any follow-up questions, invitations to play, any more comments about how tragic it was that she’d quit. Each day she went to CC’s after school and picked up coffee for her and Mr. Charles, then did homework in his room while he graded papers. She felt safe with him; no surprises.
When Saturday morning arrived, she baulked at the idea of seeing Dr. Bauman, Reyna’s dad. It would be her first visit to the office since the more sordid details of the divorce had come out. How were you supposed to look people in the face when they knew that
you
knew something they – and you – wished you didn’t know?
“I could probably just stop wearing it.” Lucy sat at the kitchen island bolting down cereal, her mom across from her, working on her laptop. Gus and her dad were off doing some father-son thing that Lucy suspected involved doughnuts they’d never confess to.
“Wearing what?”
“My retainer.”
Her mother looked up. “You can’t stop
now
. That would be like quitting the marathon at the twenty-fifth mile.” Their eyes met for a second as they both thought the obvious: it wouldn’t be the first time.
Lucy let it pass. “Maybe I could go to someone else.”
“I know. It’s unpleasant.” Her mother’s eyes drifted up to Lucy’s hair, which declared with every flyaway that she hadn’t been using the silk pillowcase.
“I used to look forward to seeing him,” Lucy said. She’d always, always liked Dr. Bauman. Of all the dads she knew, he was the cutest and nicest. He had the black hair and intense blue eyes Reyna had inherited, and he was funny and charming. Hot moms flocked to him for a reason.
Lucy wanted her to admit that it was more than unpleasant. That something had been lost. Instead, her mom went back to typing and said, “You don’t have to think of him as a role model. Just go and get it over with.”
“But it’s so…”
Sad
. “Never mind.” She should know better than to look to her mom for consolation, about basically anything.
The walk to Reyna’s house felt long. Even though it was only seven or eight blocks, the last couple were hills. When she arrived, she stood in front of the office entrance and thought again about ditching the appointment and going straight up to Reyna’s room. But that would only get her in trouble,
“I’ll hide the nuts from your mom,” he said. “She thinks they’re fattening.”
“Did she say something about my weight?” Lucy studied herself in the upper oven door. Same as always. Not gaunt, not chubby.
“No, sweetie. About
her
weight.” Martin set down his pen and ran his hand over the grey stubble that dotted his shaved head. “So what do you think of the new teacher?”
Lucy turned away from her reflection. “I don’t know. I mean, Gus loves him. That makes me happy.”
“Mm.”
“What do you think?”
Martin folded his arms on the kitchen island. “Zoya Temnikova was an extraordinary woman. You probably don’t realize this, but she and I got to know each other in the way only two employees of the household can.”
“Martin. No one thinks of you as an ‘employee of the household’. ”
He smiled. “Okay. The point is I admired her. I’m sad she’s gone. And I’ll miss the bottle of Stoli she gave me every Christmas.” He straightened up and tore his grocery list off his notepad. “That said, I think Will is exactly what Gus needs. And I’ll tell you this: your grandmother would have absolutely adored him.”
“How do you know?” Lucy asked. She suspected he was right. “You’ve only met him like twice.”
“I just do. The two of them are – would be – kindred spirits.”
For the rest of the week, Lucy made a point of not being home when Will was there. She didn’t want to hear any follow-up questions, invitations to play, any more comments about how tragic it was that she’d quit. Each day she went to CC’s after school and picked up coffee for her and Mr. Charles, then did homework in his room while he graded papers. She felt safe with him; no surprises.
When Saturday morning arrived, she baulked at the idea of seeing Dr. Bauman, Reyna’s dad. It would be her first visit to the office since the more sordid details of the divorce had come out. How were you supposed to look people in the face when they knew that
you
knew something they – and you – wished you didn’t know?
“I could probably just stop wearing it.” Lucy sat at the kitchen island bolting down cereal, her mom across from her, working on her laptop. Gus and her dad were off doing some father-son thing that Lucy suspected involved doughnuts they’d never confess to.
“Wearing what?”
“My retainer.”
Her mother looked up. “You can’t stop
now
. That would be like quitting the marathon at the twenty-fifth mile.” Their eyes met for a second as they both thought the obvious: it wouldn’t be the first time.
Lucy let it pass. “Maybe I could go to someone else.”
“I know. It’s unpleasant.” Her mother’s eyes drifted up to Lucy’s hair, which declared with every flyaway that she hadn’t been using the silk pillowcase.
“I used to look forward to seeing him,” Lucy said. She’d always, always liked Dr. Bauman. Of all the dads she knew, he was the cutest and nicest. He had the black hair and intense blue eyes Reyna had inherited, and he was funny and charming. Hot moms flocked to him for a reason.
Lucy wanted her to admit that it was more than unpleasant. That something had been lost. Instead, her mom went back to typing and said, “You don’t have to think of him as a role model. Just go and get it over with.”
“But it’s so…”
Sad
. “Never mind.” She should know better than to look to her mom for consolation, about basically anything.
The walk to Reyna’s house felt long. Even though it was only seven or eight blocks, the last couple were hills. When she arrived, she stood in front of the office entrance and thought again about ditching the appointment and going straight up to Reyna’s room. But that would only get her in trouble,
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