Page 20 of Motivating Mira
“I did.”
He reached out and rubbed my hand and I could practically hear him thinking,I worked hard for the other title, too. And he had. God, had he ever.
“You’re as easy to be with as I remember, Mira,” he said taking my coat from my hand and helping me into it. “I’ve only been here three months and in the little time I spend away fromthe hospital, I’m with my roommates. And eighty percent of that time is awkward.”
I turned to face him after my coat was on. “Why is it awkward?”
“That’s a long story. One I don’t plan on boring you with because it will make you sleepy again.” He laughed.
And I nodded, knowing I’d taken up too much of his time anyway. Especially since he was just being nice to a girl he once knew, who needed to pull up her socks and get her shit together. After all, he was the one who’d stopped texting me.
Four
Wes
“Oh, thank god you’re home,” Marni said a few days later when I strolled in after an eighteen-hour shift and a coffee with Mira in the hospital cafeteria.
I tensed instantly. Marni was standing at the kitchen doorway, her hand on her hip, scowling at her father. Jesse, who I still wasn’t happy with either, was standing behind her wearing a bewildered expression. I probably should have skipped the coffee with Mira by the looks of the two of them.
“Where are you going?” I asked, suddenly realizing it was after eight and she had her coat on to leave.
“Oh, great! Now you sound like him.” Thehimhad a distinctly hostile tone.
“By him do you mean your father?” I corrected, patiently. “You’re grieving and angry, and that’s understandable. But being disrespectful and rude isn’t an acceptable way of dealing with it.” I put my leather messenger bag on the bench by the door and walked to the kitchen.
“Well, he isn’t respecting that I’m not five. I don’t need an 8 o’clock curfew.”
“Apologize and we can all talk about it like we’renotfive.” That made her lips press into a thin line and her eyes narrow into slits. She looked like her mother when she did it, and it was a bit of a kick to the chest. I think Jesse saw it too because his eyes shuttered.
“Marni, I know you’re not five, but I also know you need boundaries. The same way I did when I was your age. The same way every thirteen-year-old does,” Jesse said, grabbing the milk jug out of the fridge.
“I’m not like you,” Marni said in a shaky voice.
“No, you’re not.”
Jesse’s words came out harshly and I winced, but he didn’t notice.
Marni’s jaw tightened. “All kids aren’t me either.”
“What’s this about for real?” I asked, noting she seemed to be picking a fight about something I don’t think she really cared about.
“I needed to go for a walk. Blow off steam. And this guy”—she paused to glare at her dad—"thinks it’s too late for me to go out for a walk alone.” She grabbed a book off the counter and tossed it at me. I caught it but I don’t think she meant for me to be able to.
“Marni,” I warned. Looking down I saw the title.How to Survive Raising a Teenager.
I could practically hear her thinking,maybe raising a teenager was what killed my mom.
“Marni,” I repeated, my voice lowering in empathy. “Have you considered your father wasn’t thinking about you when he said eight o’clock was too late to go out? And that maybe he was thinking about who else is out there?” I held up the book. “And this isn’t what you think.” I closed my eyes, shaking my head at my friend’s stupidity.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she blurted, her expression angry, but her eyes glassy. “I don’t want to be your burden. I didn’t ask to be born. But here I am, a walking talking reminder to use a god damned condom!” She stormed off, and I tossed the book at Jesse’s head before following.
“What?” He yelped, throwing up his hands to block it. “What did I do?”
“A friggin’ self-help book?” I shook my head again and went to find Marni in the backyard. The snick of the door closing alerted her I was there. “He’s clueless. Learned everything he knows from a book, Marn. It’s only natural he’d assume he could get parenting tips from one too.”
She looked at me, her eyes red rimmed and leaking tears now. “But he could just talk to me.”
“Sweetie, you can talk to him too. It works both ways.”
