Page 60 of Untruly With You

Lean my head back against the cool ceramic lip of the tub, I breathe in slowly through my nose. “Iwas. I was loving it,and I thought I was doing a good job. But according to my boss, my writing came off as distracted as I feel. I have two days to write two articles. Not to mention the first one I need to rework completely.”

“You can do it, Lainey,” Dad urges.

His words do little to quell the worried knot in my stomach. Ophelia was right to start me off on a trial run. It’s like sheknewI wasn’t actually cut out for this job.

After a beat of silence, Dad’s voice is back, colder than I’m used to—colder, even, than Mom’s tends to be. “Don’t do this,” he insists.

My mouth pops open. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t quit yourWonderingsgig,” he explains. “Don’t run away from it.”

With my free hand, I tap my fingers anxiously. “I can’t freelance. I don’t know what I was thinking. My mind is always on the run. I’m not organized or focused or—”

“Laine!” Mom cuts in with a sharp exhale. “Youcando it. In fact, more than that, youneedto do it. I know it’s hard. But I also know you’re fully capable.”

“Enough of the self-doubt,” Dad adds. “Enough indecisiveness.”

“Stick this out,” Mom says, a pleading edge to her tone. “At least this one gig. You owe it toWonderings. And more than that, you owe it to yourself.”

For a while, we don’t speak. I stare at the flashes of lightning out my window, juggling my parents’ words and my worry for Sutton out there in the rain. When I speak, my voice is barely audible. “You’re right.”

“And the sky is blue,” Dad adds.

“Tell us about Sutton,” Mom says, already excited about a topic of conversation she’s always keen on. “How is operation ‘fake-date’?”

Through gritted teeth, I confess, “Not…as fake as we intended it to be.”

“Ha!” Dad barks so loud the microphone clips. “You owe me twenty dollars, Althea.”

“Whoa now,” she says, giggling—giggling!“That wasn’t the bet. Laine, what exactly do you mean about it not being fake?”

Caught up in reliving our date last night, I must be silent too long, because Dad’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “Told you! That silence is all the answer I need. Pay up.”

After letting out a playful curse at Dad, Mom turns her attention back to me. “Did you—did you think this would happen?”

“You’re kidding right? We’re so different.” I look out at the storm hammering against the window. “We’re like thunder and a soft, summer breeze. And I bet you can guess which one I am. Even if I thought about Sutton in a romantic way before—which I didn’t let myself do—I wouldn’t have imagined he would ever feel the same way.”

“Then you’re blind, kid,” Dad says.

I scoff. “Are you saying I’mnota chaotic, unpredictable storm?”

“Oh, you are,” Mom laughs. “But Sutton has always loved that about you. When you’re in the same room as him, it’s like you’re that strike of lightning he needs. You liven him up. And maybeyouhadn’t considered what it would be like to be with Sutton. But trust me, I’ve seen the way he can’t stop smiling when you’re around.He’sbeen thinking about what it would be like for a long time.”

“Where’s Sutton now?” Dad asks.

I crawl out of my tub-turned-hideout and walk over to the window, opening it a few inches. Within seconds, the bathroom counter is soaked by angled rain. “You hear that?” I ask, nearly having to shout over the roaring wind. “He’s somewhere out there.”

26

SUTTON

Wellsand I sit on either side of our father, hiding from the incessant rain as best as we can under the sharp green pines. Hank twitches every once in a while, probably from the cold. Each time, Wells asks him the same thing, “Are you feeling okay?”

Our father just glares on.

Hank looks older than I expected him to in his early fifties, especially as he huddles down, his shoulders hunched to keep rain from dripping down the neck of his coat. He is still as lean as ever, maybe more so now, and weaker than when I moved away. The skin around his face hangs, the worry lines deep and unforgiving. Beyond looking older, he looksexhausted. His eyes droop a bit, like at any second he could fall asleep sitting up.

He’s a shadow of the man I knew.

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