Page 87 of Playoff
As expected, my mother blew up. She complained that Grandma had blamed her when they’d lost their money and needed her help, and that I’d wormed my way into her trust so that I could get everything. It was what I’d expected—Mom wasn’t used to not getting her own way—but it still hurt.
“Enough!” Justin’s raised voice cut through the kitchen.
We turned in shock. Justin never yelled. Never talked back. Never got in fights either. But now he’d spoken loudly enough to stop my mother mid-rant.
“Jessica has never schemed. All she’s done is protect me. And I’ve let her. But that’s enough. If you can’t speak civilly, just go. And don’t count on any more money from me. It’s time this whole fucking family got over what happened. We lost our money. But you still have a home and you still have food. That’s more than many people have. So let it go.”
Chapter 36
I want you to be happy
Jess
* * *
My mother was speechless. Dad spoke. “We’ve just been trying to get back what we had.”
“It’s gone,” Justin said flatly. “It’s gone and it’s never coming back. It’s time we all accepted that and moved on.” He stood up. “You should go. You know what you’re getting after probate. There’s nothing more for you here.”
For long moments, we sat stunned. Then Mom rose to her feet, and Dad followed her. They left without saying another word. Justin and I listened as the front door closed and the sound of their car faded away.
I swallowed. “Thank you.” I’d never been defended like that, especially to my parents.
He sat back down. “It was long overdue.”
“Are you okay?” Stupid question. He wasn’t. There’d been so much anger in his words, and he had a cast on his hand. And whenever I asked, he always claimed to be fine.
He let out a long breath. “No. No, I’m not.” He held up the injured hand. “I fought Alek at morning skate.”
“I know. And I’m sorry?—”
He cut me off. “No! What I did yesterday was not your fault.”
It wasn’t? “But I went behind your back.”
His smile was crooked. “If you want to see someone, it shouldn’t have to be a secret just to protect me. If you couldn’t tell me, that’s on me.”
“But he’s?—”
He interrupted again. “A teammate. And someone whose family cheated ours. But Alek didn’t do it. And my freaking out about his name? Is a me problem.”
“Mom and Dad?—”
“That’s a Mom and Dad problem. They have to let go of what they lost and deal with what they have now. We all do.”
He was right. Had any of us really moved on? “It’s easier said than done.”
He made a sound deep in his throat. “I know, if anyone does. I’ve been wallowing in my own misery for years. I have to stop.”
Was a twin thing going on, where we both processed something at the same time? I laid a hand on his arm. “What happened to you was bad. I don’t blame you for being changed by that.”
He gave me a sad, ghost of a smile. “But like I just told Mom and Dad, it’s been ten years. It’s time to move on.”
“Just like that?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s going to be hard. I probably should go talk to someone, a therapist or something. But I have to do that. That’s not on you.”
“I’m so glad to hear you say that. Yesterday I was thinking that maybe I wasn’t good for you.”
