Page 79 of I Can't Even

“Holy crap!”

“Yeah, I’m thinking we all want to steer clear of Casa de Lopez for a while,” Jessie said.

“That sucks!”

“Eh, what can you do?”

“Kick some parental ass?” I offered. She laughed, which had been my intent.

“Hey, I’m fine,” Jessie said. “After all, I’ve still got you.”

“Always,” I said.

“So, you can be my family now,” she said.

“You are going to make such a lovely Blumer sister, really, you’ll put us all to shame,” I said. This time she belly laughed.

“Shut up, brat,” she said. “Listen, Dante is flying later today. He changed his flight and got on the first plane out of New York when I told him what happened. I’m going to have my hands full with him as he, too, would like to have a chat with my parents.”

“Oh boy.” If Jessie’s parents were rejecting her, I didn’t see them embracing her lover.

“Have you talked to Liam yet?” she asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I was waiting to hear from you.”

“No, you weren’t. You can not bullshit a bullshitter, Jules,” Jessie said. “You were chickening out. Get your butt over there and tell him what’s what. He was right last night. We should have told him the truth before we left. You owe him the truth now.”

“I know, but it was nine years ago,” I said. “And it’s hard to explain how terrified I was of Babs’s threats back then. She would have made good on them.”

“No doubt, but she can’t do it now. Go. I’m going to bounce while you go clean up your mess. We’ll talk later and you can tell me what happened with you and Liam and whether you need backup or not.”

“All right,” I said. “Hey, I love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

I ended the call and jumped up from my desk, where absolutely no work was getting done anyway. I dashed toward the door, thinking only of making things right with Liam, but then stopped. Did I want him to see me like this? Hair mussed, no make-up, and wearing my pajamas. Yeah, no.

I ransacked my closet. There was nothing that felt right. I ran down the hall and burst into Em’s room.

“Sorry, Em,” I cried. “I just need to borrow an outfit.”

Her bed was neatly made, almost as if it hadn’t even been slept in. Huh. Then again, it was almost eleven, maybe she’d gone out for donuts or a run or whatever.

I charged her closet. Miniskirt, the boots, and a slinky top that would frame the girls just so. No, no, no. I needed to channel my inner ingénue and present myself as good and innocent and sweet, you know, as Em before she’d gone viral. I needed to make Liam want to listen to me about that night nine years ago, the epic blowout with Babs.

I used a light touch on the make-up and styled my long curls. I didn’t go too crazy since my hair was a feature he loved. I shimmied into the delicate, off-the-shoulder white ruffled sundress I’d chosen and slipped my feet into a pair of girly pumps with daisies on the toes. I looked practically virginal.

Babs’s urn was sitting on the windowsill where we always kept it per her directive. I ran my finger over the sparkly top as if I were trying to call forth a genie. I had so many questions for Babs that would never get answered, not the least of which was why she’d forced me to give up Liam. At the time, I’d thought she didn’t want me knocked up at nineteen like Sophie but now I wondered if she just couldn’t stand that I was happy, that I’d found true love when she never had.

I remember how that night she’d arrived home unexpectedly early from Mahjong due to a headache and found Liam and me in my bed, buck naked, and recuperating from doing the wild thing while we talked about our dream wedding. Babs had flipped her shit. And believe me when I say that’s a gross understatement.

Babs threw Liam out and forbade him from ever seeing me again. When I argued with her, we went toe-to-toe and she leveled me with an ultimatum. I could give up Liam or I could give up going to my first pick college, which was my father’s alma mater, Columbia University in New York City.

My entire academic career I had busted my butt to get accepted there—I’d loved my dad so much and wanted to be just like him. I had scholarships but not a full ride. I was, frankly, dependent upon my mother’s generosity to make up the difference. I screamed and yelled and called her hateful names. She gave as good as she got, calling me an ungrateful whore. We fought for hours and finally, she told me I had to choose.

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