Page 99 of Even Beneath the Stars

Jacee's laugh tinkles. "Oh, honey, are you embarrassed of your mother wearing a swimsuit? When we're by apool?"

"Swimsuit?" Xavier scoffs, his cheek ticking. "It's barely even a bikini."

Usually so composed, he can't even look at his mother. His knuckles are white where they grip the edge of the hot tub.

"Wow." she takes a step closer. "No 'hi mom, welcome home?'" she practically pouts. "Not even an 'I missed you'?"

"Welcome home, mom." Xave doesn't even attempt to tone down his disingenuous edge.

Jacee's perfectly lined eyes sweep over Mason and Nick, who both look like deer caught in headlights. She tilts her head, lips curving into a coy smile. "You boys don't have a problem with my swimsuit, do you?"

Mason's eyes go wide as he shakes his head.

Nick swallows hard, managing a strangled "No, ma'am."

Seb won't even look at Jacee, his gaze fixed somewhere near the clump of palms a few feet away. He keeps throwing concerned glances at Xavier, like he's trying to telepathically communicate an escape plan. I've never seen Seb look so uncomfortable—and that's saying something considering I once witnessed him accidentally lock himself out of his own house in nothing but his Star Wars boxers just as the Ocean Heights school newspaper writers showed up collecting donations.

Finn bounces back over, still wrapped in his towel-cape, oblivious to the tension crackling through the air. "Look, Mommy, I'm all dry now!"

I want to grab him and run, shield him from this shit-show of a world that looks like a dream from the outside but is like being stuck in a fun house filled with twisted, warped mirrors in reality, with no signs pointing to the exit. But I stay rooted to the spot, watching the twisted dynamic play out, the final puzzle piece clicking into place explaining why Xavier behaves the infuriating way he so often does. But also, making it equally astonishing he turned out as impressive as he did.

"Look what I made for you in art class," Finn announces, retrieving a painted clay pot from a nearby chaise lounge. His small hands cradle it like it's made of spun glass instead of kiln-fired clay. The thick stripes of pink and green paint overlap in messy layers, clearly applied with enthusiastic five-year-old determination. Finn presents it to Jacee with such hopeful pride my chest aches. "It'sto put a plant in… so you can put flowers in it. In your bedroom. Or anywhere. Anywhere you want at all."

Jacee bends down, taking the pot from him. "Oh, that's really lovely, sweetheart… That's so nice that you made something for me." She studies it for another few seconds then adds, "It's very, very nice." Her tone is positive, but there's something hollow about it. Also, a little unsure, like she's out of her element right now.

"Wow, it's beautiful, Finny," I chime in, unable to stop myself from trying to amplify the moment for him.

His face glows with such pure joy at having created something for his mother.

I step forward, extending my hand. "I'm Maggie, by the way. Finn's nanny."

Jacee's eyes flick over me, taking in my pink hair, green cords and pink blouse in one swift assessment. Her handshake is brief and limp. "Ah, yes, Denise mentioned we had a new one." She says it like I'm an appliance that's been replaced. "Well… she did say you were young." She clears her throat. "And you definitely are, aren't you?"

I'm not sure what to say to that, so I don't say anything. Just give her a rather awkward smile. But then she turns and looks right at Xavier and gives him this…look.A knowing look that makes me feel uncomfortable, because I think she's insinuating something, and even though I'm not sure what it is exactly she's insinuating, it feels wrong and kind of gross and definitely demeaning.

My eyes flit to Xavier, and for some reason I'm relieved to find he looks just as uncomfortable. I guess because it means at least he's not complicit in whatever his mother's look is trying to convey.

And then I feel bad for being relieved that Xavier seems uncomfortable. Because what kind of person finds solace in someone else's discomfort?

Me, apparently. When being appraised like a piece of dollar-store candy by Jacee Rockwell in relation to her son.

Jacee's attention slides back to Xavier, her face transforming into an expression of manufactured delight. "Oh, baby, it's justsogood to see you!"

Xaviernods.

"It's wonderful that you're actually home," she continues, absently fluffing her hair. "It seems like you're usually out whenever I come home to visit."

Does she even realize she just referred to coming home as'visiting'?

"Yeah." Xavier's response is flat, emotionless.

A laugh bubbles from Jacee's throat—the kind that's meant to cover awkwardness but highlights it instead. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the steady hum of the hot tub jets.

Jacee's smile falters slightly. "Xavier, sweetheart—where are your manners? Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?"

Xavier's jaw tightens. "Mason. Nick." He gestures to each guy in turn, his movements stiff. "From hockey."

"Ah, hockey… that's right. Well, you must all be very fit young men, then." She gives them a smile that would be fitting for one of her magazine covers, but is anything but in the current situation. "It's lovely to meet you both," she purrs.

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