Page 60 of Suits and Spark Plugs

Sadie’s eyes lit up. “He’s yummy.”

“Do not call him yummy,” I said on autopilot as every emotion imaginable swirled in my chest. I knew how the house had probably looked when he’d arrived, and after what Blaine had said I felt vulnerable over it. “He came alone?”

“Yes. He was quiet, worked hard, and left just before you got here,” Mom explained.

“But he has a mechanic shop to run, and it’s a business day.” My mind felt sluggish and my hands a little shaky.

Mom took another bite of her soup. “I didn’t ask about that, but it was kind of him. Does this mean you and he are friends?”

“I, uh, guess so.”

Mom’s lips pursed. “I’m not sure I like the idea of you being friends with him. I haven’t heard good things about him.”

Irritation came on a sudden wave. “You’re bad-mouthing the guy that just cleaned your house and brought you dinner?”

Mom’s face reddened, which gratified me. “Well, when you put it that way...”

“How else is there to see it? He did a huge favor to this family today. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear about people.” I half expected a karma angel to fall out of the sky and tattoo a “hypocrite” sign on my forehead as the words left my mouth.

“There’s always a little truth in every rumor, Liv. Be careful.” Mom’s voice was soft but firm.

“I barely know him,” I defended.

“That’s what you said last time we talked about him.” Sadie’s tone was warm and lightly teasing, which surprised me almost as much as everything else. “I’m starting to think you know him better than you’re letting on because no guy I barely know would ever come clean my house for me.”

I had no idea how to respond, so I grabbed my empty bowl and retreated to the sink. My hands were sweaty. I wasn’t sure how to handle this news. Connor didn’t know that I knew, but I did know. I had to thank him, even though he wouldn’t be expecting my thanks. In fact, he’d probably hate having me thank him, which absurdly made me want to do it even more. Not tonight, though. Not while my emotions were high.

I rinsed and loaded my dishes in the dishwasher before heading up to my bedroom. With the house clean and the family fed, I could get back to the studying that I’d been needing to do. I had a feeling it would be harder than ever to keep my mind focused.

* * * * *

The next day Dad arrived home in the late afternoon and immediately called a family meeting. His dark hair had new streaks of gray, he was leaner than he’d been before, and worry lines dotted his forehead and created brackets around his mouth. The cheerful Dad of a few weeks back had disappeared.

Mom, Sadie, and I were silent as we sat down on the tired furniture. Dad didn’t sit. He paced back and forth in front of the big window. His movements were jerky. Every few moments he’d turn to us and open his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then he’d start walking again.

The early spring sun coming through the window was lacking the same yellows as it would come summer, but it cast Dad’s shadow across the carpeting, making it look as though two men were wearing a trail.

I glanced at Mom, but her hands were in her lap, grasping at each other, her face down. Her hair wasn’t in its usual tidy style, and for a moment I was caught off guard at how beaten down she looked. Sadie, next to her, sharing her worry, was also looking anywhere but at Dad, although her expression said she was ready for battle.

In a flash of insight I realized that I was going to have to get the ball rolling. Dad had called the meeting but was flailing over where to begin. Mom, well, she was being herself—waiting as always for Dad to take the reins. Sadie was completely out of her depth here.

I’d worried and waited for my parents to handle things for too long. The fact that Dad had understood something needed to be discussed was a great thing, a good opening for us. But it appeared that all he was capable of doing was calling the meeting. So, I cleared my throat and got to adulting.

“I think it’s time we stop pretending,” I said. All eyes snapped to me. Mom and Sadie sat up straighter on the couch and Dad stopped pacing. “We’re playing half-hearted family and it’s killing all of us.” I lanced each of them with a look until their eyes dropped into their laps. “Dad, you straight up abandoned us. We’re all pretending it isn’t true, but it’s true.”

His eyes leapt to mine. “Now, come on.”

I held up a hand. “Until a few weeks ago we hadn’t had any contact with you for six full months. That is, by definition, abandonment.”

“Jane,” he said, turning to my mom. “What have you told these girls?”

“Nothing. They know more than you give them credit for,” Mom replied. At her defense of us, I felt more upset.

“She’s right, Dad. She’s said absolutely nothing to us, which is almost as bad as being abandoned has been.” I glanced at Mom in time to see her mouth fall slack and hurt fill her eyes. Before I could say more, Sadie spoke.

“Are you making a decent wage or not, Daddy?” Her face was red. “Because things around here aren’t good.”

My heart broke at the look on my sister’s young face. She’d been carrying more sadness than I’d realized. I’d only noticed her teenage petulance, and chosen not to dig deeper. I hadn’t been the sister I should have been. I’d tried to take a few steps, but she needed more.

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