Page 119 of Let It Be Me

I couldn’t wait for summer session to end so I could spend the couple of weeks before fall semester relaxing on campus, but I left for Lakeside right after my final class last week and haven’t been back. I think most people go to their parents’ house for comfort when they’re hurting, so I don’t know why I’m here. It’s not like this place isn’t completely saturated with memories of Lorenzo and me. Maybe I want it to hurt so I can shake myself out of this self-imposed march toward misery. Or maybe I just want to hide out. Even my parents—absolutely devoted to the notion that I should “earn my keep” with a mile-long list of chores when I’m home—sense something is wrong and have left me alone since I arrived. Of course, who am I hiding out from? Lorenzo isn’t interested in speaking to me, and I have no one else.

It’s not the first time I’ve found myself friendless, but the last time was before I knew Lorenzo existed. And who was I then? Nobody I recognize. A tiny kid, feisty and determined, but about nothing in particular. I wish I still had that fire. Maybe thatwould make me strong in the face of Lorenzo’s anger. I’ve never been on the receiving end of his anger, not with the ferocity I saw in him at the party the other day. Like I’d finally make the mistakes he couldn’t stand to see. The way he layered the words I’ve waited a lifetime to hear,it had to be forever with you, right up against the words I never imagined I would—that I can’t have him as my friend? It’s a cruelty I never thought him capable of.

But at least there’s freedom in being cut loose from his life so completely. I’m beholden to no one. I can ruin my life with this stupid job in Canada if I want to, and I don’t have to care how anyone feels about it.

“We’re sorelieved you used your good sense with this decision,” my dad says that evening as we sit gathered around the mahogany dining table that’s seen so many arguments. My parents have called a family meeting to discuss my accepting the job, and there’s an unmistakable glint in their eyes.

My mom pats my hand and beams at my father. “You’ve matured, Ruby. This proves it.”

Richard smiles. “We were losing hope. We’d always prayed that college would set you straight, help you get your feet on the ground, and we were getting discouraged, what with you still bopping around from this to that. But you were growing up right under our noses.”

“Thanks.”

“Great, so on to the details.” He straightens up, probably hopeful those compliments will be enough to last me my next twenty-one years. “So the role that’s being set aside for you is a new one, custom designed, you could say.” The brief smile thatpasses between him and my mother seems intended to go over my head. “Director of special projects.”

“What’s that include?”

“Well, in many ways, that’s yet to be determined. You’ll put whatever skills you have to use based on your education and see where the company might need to fill in some holes.”

Vague but okay. “I was actually thinking I might take some business courses to prepare. Or marketing if that’s one of my possible roles.”

“Sure. Hey, why not?” He doesn’t sound as impressed by my initiative as I’d expected.

“I could even look into a master’s degree if it would be an advantage. Maybe at Shafer. Two years would go quickly.”

My parents look concerned. “No, Ruby,” my mom says. “You’ll be expected in your new role as soon as you graduate.”No, Ruby.I’ve heard this so many times in my life and in that very same tone, the one you use for a five-year-old who still can’t seem to grasp the concept of sharing.

Something weird is going on. I look between my parents. “Why?” I ask bluntly.

“You’ll be needed.” But my dad sounds like he’s just pulling this out of his ass.

“How badly can they need me? They don’t even know what they want me to do.”

“They want you to work there,” he says sharply. “You should be thanking them—and us for making it happen.”

My dad’s flustered impatience is the giveaway. Realization hits me. “Is this even a real job? Or are you guys just making this up as you go along?”

“Does it matter much?” He pretends to be amused. “You haven’t even graduated from college and you already have job security for life.”

“Well, that’s not very motivating.”

“Excuse me?”

“What if I mess up? Will my job still be secure?”

My parents exchange confused glances. “You’re expected to make some mistakes,” Mom says carefully. “Everyone does in the beginning.”

“I mean what if I fuck up? Fuck up big-time.” I ignore my dad’s disapproving look. “Will they fire me?”

Richard’s features are pinched with irritation. “What sort of ‘fucking up’ do you propose to do?” he demands, and I try not to smile. Richard doesn’t approve of bad language, so when he repeats it, his voice takes on a ridiculous falsetto.

“Just my usual.”

My dad opens his mouth to scold me, but my mom is quicker, placing her hand on his. “What are you getting at, Ruby?”

“I just want to know why you’re giving me this job. You’ve spent my whole life threatening and punishing and taking away privileges when I didn’t do what you asked, and now you’re gifting me some amazing career?”

“Some kids might ask their parents such a question with a little gratitude in their voice.” He shakes his head. “You might not have this job for long if you don’t learn to show respect when it’s to your advantage.”

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