Page 67 of Always Murder

“Come on, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.Have you met my mom and dad?One time, the pastor came over and he thought my dad was a coat rack.”

“Millie, you’re not your mom.And Keme’s not your dad.On the other hand—”

She made one of those whimpering sounds again.

“On the other hand,” I said a little more firmly, “everybody inherits relationship patterns from their parents.”

Millie’s suspicious, sidelong look at me was simultaneously un-Millie-like and, well, rude.

Mostly, though, it made me laugh again.I raised my hands in surrender and said, “Writer.Well, and years of therapy unpacking the current hot mess in front of you.”

“I can hear myself,” Millie said.“I sound exactly like my mom sometimes.I never wanted to sound like my mom.Growing up, it was like—it was like nobody else was eventhere.It’s still like that.Like she can’t see me.Like she can’t hear me.Even when she’s looking right at me, telling me Gracie Sterling learned to play the flute—”

“On the jump-rope coach,” I murmured.

“DASHIELL!”

“You said it, not me!”

Millie’s grin was surprisingly real.But it faded as she said, “It’s like she’s talking past me or through me, and nothing I say gets in.I don’t want to do that with Keme, but sometimes, it’s like he’s not listening to me either.”

You’d have to be a pretty lousy armchair psychologist not to make the connection, but I let that pass without comment.Instead, I said, “Someone once told me that all love is a kind of homesickness.Well, actually Nora Ephron said that.And she didn’t tell me so much as, um, write it in a book.”

It sounded like Millie was barely holding back a lot of vexation.

“My point,” I hurried to add, “is that the stuff from our past doesn’t all have to be bad.There are things we go back to because we love them.”

“So, what?I want Keme to ignore me like my mom does?”

“Good luck with that.Keme couldn’t ignore you if he tried.”

Millie sat up.She ran her hand through her hair, her fingers curling along her nape.When she spoke, her voice was thoughtful, distant.“My house was so loud growing up.It stillisso loud.And I know I’m loud.I’m always getting excited about stuff.And I like that about myself.But sometimes it’s like there’s so…much.And then I’m with Keme, and he’s like this quiet place I can drop into and be calm and centered and—andwithhim.Like I’m this kite that would blow away if he didn’t keep hold of me.”Her cheeks reddened.“I know that doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does, actually.And it’s lovely.”

“God, he must be so mad at me.”

“He loves you, Millie.He wants this to work out with you.But you both have to recognize that you’re in a new phase, and things are different.That means making some changes.He can’t keep being a lone wolf; he’s part of something bigger than himself now, and that means talking and making decisions together.It means compromising.And you need to find a way to communicate that isn’t big-sister mode.Part of being in a relationship with someone is learning to see them differently.And that means learning to love them differently too, because you know more of them now, and you know them in a new way.”

Millie was quiet for several long moments.Then she sat up a little straighter, her shoulders square, and said, “I can do that.”

“I know you can.”

“I’m going to talk to Keme.”

“Good.”

“We’re going to figure this out.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Her voice took on a grim resolve.“And I’m not going to let my mom treat me like that anymore.”

“Right, well, that’s kind of beyond the scope of this conversation—”

“AndI’mgoing to be Mary this year.”

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