Heart Like Mine (30 page)

He moved his eyes to the shattered Wii box and then to me. I couldn’t read his expression. “I’ll come talk with you in a little bit,” he said. “Let me handle this, first.”

“But—” I began, but Victor cut me off.

“Grace. I’ve got it handled, okay?”

I stared at him, and a pain in my chest began radiating out through the rest of my body, a feeling I couldn’t immediately name. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t fear. I took slow, deliberate steps across the room, careful to edge my way around Victor and the kids without touching any of them. I waited for him to reach out, to put his hand on my arm or give me a reassuring look. But he didn’t make eye contact and made no move to touch me, either.

Back in our bedroom, I sat in the chair at the end of our bed and reached into my purse. I pulled out the engagement ring I still kept with me, and even wore when I wasn’t around the kids. Tears filled my eyes, and it was only then that it finally struck me what the prickly sensation in my body actually was.

In a moment where Victor and I should have stood united, a moment when I needed him to back me up, the feeling that coursed through my veins was something I never believed he would cause. The feeling I felt was betrayal.

*  *  *

I pretended to be asleep when Victor came to bed a while later. I listened to him undress in the dark, take a quick shower to wash off the scent of the restaurant from his skin, then felt the pressure of his weight on the other side of the mattress as he climbed beneath
the covers. Again, he made no move to touch me; he only said my name once, quietly. I lay immobile, turned away from him, regulating my breath so it appeared I was asleep. I knew we needed to talk, but honestly, I was so hurt, I didn’t know what I’d say to him that wouldn’t cause more damage than it would heal.

“Grace?” he said again, louder this time. I released a heavy sigh. There was no way I could pretend I hadn’t heard him.

“What.” The word shot out of me like a bullet.

“I heard from the doctor tonight. Kelli’s toxicology report came back and he thought I’d want to know the results.”

I rolled over to look at him, temporarily forgetting my anger. I could barely see him in the dark, just the shadowy outline of his long body, the sharp angles of his face. “He called you on Thanksgiving?” Victor nodded. “Okay, so?” I prodded, still furious with him, but letting my curiosity get the better of me.

“He said she died of a sudden ventricular tachycardia. A heart attack, basically.”

“We already
knew
that.” I couldn’t tell if he was being purposely evasive or just struggling to find a way to say what he needed to say. I was too irritated to care.

“Right, but now we know it was caused by the medication she was taking.”

“Victor,” I said, past the point of any patience with him. “Did she commit suicide or not?”

He sighed. “There’s no way to know for sure. The doctor said her electrolytes were completely out of whack, probably because she wasn’t eating. She was on the verge of anorexia, I guess, which completely screws up how your body processes things.” He swallowed once before continuing. “So the meds she was taking built up in her system to the point where they became toxic to her.”

I thought about this a moment. “Is there any way for him to tell how many pills she had taken that morning?”

Victor shook his head. “Not an exact dosage. But the levels in her blood were higher than they should have been, so she was probably taking more than the prescribed dose for a while. It’s more the combination of that and her system being too broken down to handle it, I guess. Her heart just gave up.” He sighed. “I don’t know what to tell the kids. Ava keeps asking.”

“You can’t tell them the truth?”

“That their mom was a pill-popping anorexic? That’s a
great
idea.”

I knew I needed to confess my trip to Kelli’s house with Ava and explain the possibility that she might have given up a baby for adoption, but his tone slammed a door shut inside me. My cheeks warmed and I gritted my teeth to keep from telling him to fuck off. “
Jesus
, Victor,” I said instead. “I wasn’t suggesting you should say it like
that
.” I rolled back over and pulled the covers up to my neck. This conversation was over. “I’m tired, okay? Good night.”

He didn’t respond, but soon, his breath fell into a slow, deep rhythm, and I knew he was asleep. Frustration crackled through my body, keeping me awake. I knew his first loyalty lay with his children, and rightly so. And yet. The way he’d spoken to me—dismissed me, really. Like anything I had to say was irrelevant. I gnawed on this thought, tossing and turning for most of the night, wondering how we would get through this situation, questioning whether or not I could.

Around four thirty, I finally gave up any pretense of being able to sleep, got up, and took a shower. Victor woke up at six to find me already dressed and sitting in my armchair in the corner of our bedroom, reviewing one of the client files I’d brought home
from work. He propped himself up on his elbows and gave me a small smile. “Hey. You’re up early.”

“Yep. I figured I might as well get a jump-start on my day.”

He cocked his head to one side. “It’s a holiday weekend. You’re going into work?”

I bobbed my head once. “For a little while, before you need to get back to the restaurant. I need to get some things done now, since I’m assuming you’ll need me to take care of the kids in the afternoons, so you can be at work?” He hadn’t asked specifically, but I understood that with Spencer’s broken arm I would need to take over much of what Victor would normally do for the kids because of his longer hours on the job. I’d need to alter my work schedule so I could pick them up from school. I’d need to get Ava to dance squad practice and Max to basketball. At this point, I didn’t see any alternative but to do whatever had to be done. There was no reason the kids should suffer just because their dad was being a jerk.

“Yes,” he said slowly. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. Ava got her period when we were at Sam’s house,” I told him. Despite how angry I was, I felt like this was something he should know. Everything else—everything about Kelli’s past—could wait.

“Really?” His eyebrows raised. “Is she okay?”

I nodded. “I think so. But don’t talk with her about it, okay? Unless she brings it up. You’ll just embarrass her.”

“I get it,” he said. “Thank you for being there for her.”

“You’re welcome.”

He was silent a moment, assessing the businesslike edge to my words. “Are you okay? I know last night was stressful. Finding out all of that stuff about Kelli. And the kids, arguing like that. That’s the way it goes with them sometimes.”

That’s the way it goes when you coddle them and don’t even bother hearing the adult’s side of the story.
Of course, I didn’t say this. “I’m fine,” I said instead.

He sat up. “Oh yeah, you definitely
sound
fine. Not pissed at me or anything.” His words were lightly teasing, but I was in no mood.

“You can’t ask me to help you take care of them and then not trust me to make good decisions,” I said softly, planning for that to be all I had to say about what had happened last night in Max’s room. I stood up and shoved the file into my briefcase. “And I’m sorry about the news about Kelli. I’m sure you’ll figure out the right thing to tell the kids.” I kept my tone cool. He obviously wasn’t interested in my input, so I’d decided I wouldn’t give him any.

He waited a moment before answering, staring at me. When he finally did, his tone matched mine. “Okay. Thank you.”

I lifted my gaze to him briefly, and at the sight of the hurt in his eyes, my anger eased just the tiniest bit. “I love you,” I said. And then, for the first time since moving in with him, I left the house without kissing Victor good-bye.

Dad and Grace were fighting. It wasn’t a loud fight. It wasn’t the kind he and Mama used to have, the kind where their words reached inside me and Max and gripped us with icy fear. It was the quiet, moving-around-each-other-like-there-was-an-invisible-wall-between-them kind of fight. The kind where they didn’t speak to each other unless they had to, and when they did, their voices were stretched at the seams. I couldn’t decide which kind of argument was worse.

Dad spent all of his time at the restaurant, coming home late over the holiday weekend, the same way he had when Mama and he were still together. I felt a strange sense of panic fluttering around inside me, just like I had in the months before he’d left us three years ago. I felt bad about lying to him about what had happened in Max’s room, but I was afraid if I told him the truth, it would only make things worse. I didn’t want to say anything to him that might make him regret having Max and me living with him.

“Do you think Grace might leave?” Bree asked me in the locker room after school. It was the first week of December and she was keeping me company while I changed for dance team practice. After finding out Mama had never been a cheerleader, I thought about quitting, but then decided it was something I liked enough that I wanted to do it anyway.

I pulled my T-shirt over my head and looked at Bree. “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think so. It’s probably just a fight.” I hadn’t thought about the fact that it could be Grace who left us, and was a little surprised to feel worried that she might. “Are you going to stay and watch practice?”

Bree shook her head and stood up. “Nah. I’m gonna head home. Have fun.” She wiggled her fingers at me, then headed out the side door that led to the parking lot.

Just as I entered the short hallway that led from the locker rooms to the gym, Skyler Kenton appeared. He jerked his head to the side, moving his swath of black hair out of his eyes. “Hey,” he said with a smile.

“Hey,” I said, suddenly glad I’d taken the time to put on a little mascara and lip gloss. I reached up and smoothed my ponytail, hoping he didn’t think my knees were too knobby.

He took a couple of steps toward me. “You made the dance team, huh?”

I nodded and gave him a shy smile. “Yeah.”

“I heard you’re pretty good at it.”

“Really?” I said, cocking my head to one side. “Who said that?”

“Lisa. And like, four other girls on the team. They were talking about it in the lunchroom.”

“Not Whitney, I bet.”

He grinned. “Nah, not Whitney. But she’s kind of a bitch, so who cares what she thinks.” I giggled, thinking how much I wanted to tell Mama that he was finally talking with me. I’d had a crush on him since last year, when I watched him help Max learn how to dribble a basketball on the playground. But Mama was gone, and the giggle in my throat suddenly morphed into a potential sob.

“So, maybe I’ll see you at the games?” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. “Cool,” he said, reaching out his arm and letting his hand rub the outside of my arm. “Talk to you later, then?”

“Sure,” I said, the word squeaking out of me. I watched him saunter down the hallway toward the exit.
Skyler Kenton just totally touched my arm!
I was not the kind of girl he usually talked to. Losing Mama had turned me into some kind of strange celebrity, and most of the time, I hated it. The looks people gave me, full of fascination and pity, made me want to scream. But now, here Skyler was, suddenly touching my arm. I sighed, a strange sort of fluttering feeling in my stomach, and went to join all of the other girls in the gym.

Lisa smiled and waved at me as I approached the group, who were sitting in a circle around Mrs. McClain. Happy that Lisa had made the team, too, I sat down next to her, cross-legged, giving Whitney a closed-lipped smile when she tried to look like she wasn’t going to make eye contact with me.
Whatever. Let her be mad.
The other girls were talking and laughing—a few others even smiled at me. It felt good to be part of a group.

Mrs. McClain clapped her hands to get our attention. “Okay, girls. Before we get started with practice, let me hand out the details about our new uniforms! The one we picked is on page forty-two, and you can go online and order it in your size. They tend to run a little small, so keep that in mind.” She gave a stack of catalogs to Lisa, who took one and handed it to me. I flipped to the right page, saw the red and white sleeveless top with matching pleated skirt, and liked it immediately. Then I glanced at the pricing chart and let out a little gasp. Lisa nudged me.

“You okay?” she asked, and I nodded, even though I wasn’t.

“I just didn’t know the uniform would be so expensive,” I whispered. I didn’t
have
two hundred dollars. I
maybe
had a little
over one hundred in the bank account my mom had opened for me, but Dad hadn’t been giving us an allowance since we moved in with him. I knew he was already stressed out about having enough business at the restaurant and I didn’t want to make things worse by asking him for money. I definitely wasn’t going to ask Grace.

“Ava?” Mrs. McClain said. “Anything the matter?” I hadn’t noticed that all the other girls had already stood up. Everyone was looking at me. Whitney stood with a hand on her jutted-out hip and gave me a quick roll of her eyes.

“No, I’m good,” I said, dropping the catalog to the ground, and joined the rest of my team in the center of the floor.

*  *  *

Grace was late picking me up. Mrs. McClain waited with me outside of the gym, and when Grace’s car finally pulled into the parking lot, I climbed into the front seat without saying a word, shoved my backpack and gym bag to the floor, and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Sorry I’m late,” Grace said to Mrs. McClain as she used the driver’s-side controls to open my window. “Max’s basketball practice ran a little bit longer than I expected.”

“Hi, Mrs. McClain!” Max called out from the backseat, where he was sucking down water out of a bottle.

She smiled at him and waved, then looked back at Grace. “I understand,” she said. “But if you can possibly help it, we try not to make late pickups a habit.”

Grace nodded, but her cheeks flushed pink. “Right. Absolutely. It certainly wasn’t intentional.” She closed the window and gave a loud sigh. Usually she would ask me about my day and how the squad’s new routine was going, but she didn’t even
look at me as she pulled away from the curb. I figured she must still have been mad at me about what happened in Max’s room on Thanksgiving, but I didn’t know how to say I was sorry to her without getting in trouble for lying to Dad. So instead, I kept my mouth shut, matching her silence with my own.