Page 57 of Love is Angry

“What’s on today’s to-do list?” I ask, preparing to devour one of the pancakes, first. My mouth is watering but I temper my taste buds with a long sip of coffee. “You said you’re gonna add a second varnish layer to that desk outside. Right?”

Dad nods once. “Yup. The weather is my friend for a couple more days, so I’ll stick to finishing that one outdoors. It shouldn’t take me more than an hour or so to wipe it down and varnish every side. Depending on how long you take with the Echeveria kids, I’m hoping we can do the shelves and cabinet doors on that bookcase later. I’ve got two handheld sanders for the job, and I’ll have to dive into the shed for the wider brushes.”

“Okay. It won’t take more than a couple of hours. I’m not exactly keen on brunching with the elites here,” I mutter. “And the bookcase. Are we keeping the original wood color or are we throwing in some Annie Sloan and beeswax?”

He thinks about it for a moment. “What is it with you and those two? You used to tutor them both. What happened?”

I was hoping we might address the bookcase, not the hidden history between me and the Echeverias. As things are, it seems I must lie my ass off this morning. I hate having to lie to Dad, but I have no other choice. This has been my burden to carry for long enough, I cannot even imagine having him join in on the hard labor. He’s got enough on his plate. My additional college expenses take a toll on his wallet, and the university program is too loaded and complex to allow me the possibility of getting a part time job. I’d like nothing more than to relieve some of the financial pressure, but I can’t.

Not without jeopardizing my academic performance, and that would beat the whole damn point, anyway.

“Nothing happened,” I tell Dad. “I don’t have to be friends with those people. Yeah, we got along and whatever, but that’s over, we’re moving on, to each his own. I don’t see the reasoning behind a forced friendship.”

“Laura invited you to brunch. She’s the one forcing the friendship, then?” he asks.

I shrug, trying to think of ways out of this conversation without stirring his suspicion or, even worse, arousing further curiosity. The man does not know when to stop.

“She’s young. She looks up to me,” I reply. “It’s not her fault. I never made a clear separation between us past the tutoring aspect, and I was always nice to her. So…”

“You led her on.”

“Sort of. Yeah.” I can only hope my sins will be forgiven if there is an option of heaven and hell later down the road. For now, however, I have to sell these lies for his sake. “Don’t get me wrong, Laura is a sweet soul, but—”

“She’s basically a child,” Dad sighs. “Her more recent condition can’t be easy for her, either. No, I understand, Maddie. Laura strikes me as the kind of girl who presents some complications, and the way her father treats her doesn’t help, either.”

My skin crawls but I manage to keep a straight face. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I run into them often, usually on weekends. Mr. Echeveria tries to take her out more, but he’s always hovering, obsessively watching her every move when they’re in public. Microaggressions that make a child feel permanently inadequate.”

“His son isn’t any better,” I grumble.

I hate Julian more than anything right now, especially as Dad just confirmed that the man is still a monster. It’s a pity his children must suffer, too. Like I wasn’t enough. Nor Roxanne.

“Rhue strikes me as stronger, though,” Dad replies.

His opinion sends alarm signals through my head, but once again, I must play my part.

“You know Rhue? I mean, you never mention him,” I say, trying so hard to smile and seem casual. It’s quite the feat when everything related to these people is a direct threat to the box in which I usually manage to keep my anxieties locked. “Didn’t know you two were buddies.”

Why do I sound so bitter?

Dad chuckles. “I see him once in a while when he stops by the shop.”

“Wait, he stops by the shop?” I ask, my appetite already halfway out the window.

Dad nods, serene as a sunrise over the sea. “Sometimes. He bought a few pieces from me for his apartment in Ithaca. He was so pleased with the quality that he sent me a bottle of black label scotch.”

“I see. So, what’s he like?” I ask. “I mean, what’s your overall impression of him?”

Dad holds back a cool grin. “He’s a good person, fundamentally, at least. I’m not surprised, though. Roxanne may have had her flaws, but she was an incredible woman. Rhue takes a lot after her, but he also inherited his father’s domineering spirit. He isn’t as aggressive as Julian, mind you.”

I beg to differ, but I can’t spoil my dad’s impression. It makes Rhue sound so…human. “You knew Roxanne well? His mom?”

“We used to date in high school,” Dad replies, and I almost choke.

“You and Roxanne used to date?”

“Yup. We were in love, too. At least until senior year, when Julian grew five inches over the winter. The growth spurt that ruined everything,” he says, almost laughing. “Roxanne broke things off right before the prom. She went with Julian, instead. They’ve been inseparable since. You know what the funny thing was?”