Page 74 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
“I know. What am I going to do?”
Julia goes quiet, and a ridiculous lump forms in my throat.
If Archie reallydidcome to my bus stop to make sure I was okay—after everything I said to him this morning, and everything I’ve done to him this week—that’s maybe the nicest thing anyone has done for me.
Mom says I’ve been independent since birth, and I believe her, but circumstances have also forced me to be more independent than I sometimes want to be. Everyone likes to be taken care of. There are times when all I’ve wanted was to be looked after.
Malcolm filled that need for a while, but I recognize now that he cared for me because he wanted to shape me into who he thought I should be. When I wanted to be my own person, he didn’t care about me anymore.
But Archie was trying to take care of me this morning, even after I refused to let him. Even after I’ve done everything to push him away. Not just push him away—drivehim away.
“I know what to do,” Julia says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “My padre was a fisherman in Guatemala when I was a girl. He chartered boats for rich Americans who wanted to catch big fish.”
She smiles, but there’s a sadness in her eyes. “His clothes always smelled like fish. I remember Madre washing everything in vinegar and leaving coffee grounds around to absorb the smell that lingered after he was gone.”
“Did it work?”
She nods. “Vinegar works on everything. You don’t need expensive cleaners.”
Knowing I can undo some of what I’ve done once I’m home alleviates a little of my guilt.
“Thank you,” I tell her, reaching out to give her arm a squeeze. “Are your parents still in Guatemala?” I ask her.
Julia shakes her head slowly. “Padre drowned before I turned ten. Madre passed a few years ago. She raised me and my four younger brothers alone. We were very poor.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
She smiles. “He was a good man. He watches over me.”
“I’m sure he does.”
I consider how Julia’s life might have looked being raised—along with four siblings—by a single mother in a fishing village in Guatemala, compared to my own life as the only child of a single mother who married rich men so we could live in Beverly Hills, and I could attend private schools.
I’d give it all up to be able to confidently say I have a father watching over me. Or somebody who loved me enough to protect me.
Julia and I don’t say much on our bus ride. I’m not sure how to comfort her beyond telling her that if I can come up with a way to help her, I’ll do it. I hope the promise doesn’t sound as empty to her as it does to me. The longer I sit next to her, the more helpless I feel to do anything about my own situation, let alone hers.
On top of feelings of helplessness, I wrestle with anger and regret. The more I dwell on Valente's actions, the more I consider Archie's revelations about Malcolm taking his "Surf City" earnings.
I may have been naïve in trusting Luca Valente with my designs, but at sixteen-years-old, Archie wasn’t wrong to trust his own father.
No wonder Archie is fighting so hard to keep the beach house. It’s his only security. Without it, he’ll have to return to Australia. He has no other way to support himself, especially if Malcolm cuts him off.
Malcolm’s put him in the same position he put Mom, forcing Archie to be entirely dependent on him.
I doubt Archie believes he’s capable of living any other way, just like Mom didn’t either for so many years. Archie’s wrong, but that’s what Malcolm’s done to him. Malcolm’s interest in taking care of people is about making them helpless enough to believe they need him. It’s not about caring at all. It’s about control.
After our conversation last night, I understand Archie’s perspective better now, but that doesn’t change the fact that Mom needs the house as much as he does. Maybe even more. The house is all she’ll ever get from Malcolm, but Archie’s hisson. Malcolm could always change his mind about the trust fund and his threats to cut off Archie.
That’s unlikely, but Archie still has the option of going back to Australia and living the comfortable life he’s always lived.
I quickly brush that idea away. Archie deserves the chance to live up to his potential and working for Malcolm won’t allow him that, but also…I’d likely never see him again.
The thought of saying goodbye to Archie forever carves a hole in my chest deeper than the one Valente’s already dug.
Chapter 26
Piper
