Page 65 of The Fall Back Plan
“And like the same books,” she adds.
“Totally. We have something else in common too. I grew up with no mom, only my dad.”
Her eyes widen. “I kind of forget that grownups used to be kids.”
“I get it. Lucas has told me a little about your dad. And how he thinks it might be rough being the only girl in your house sometimes.”
“Yeah. I mean, Uncle Lucas always says I can tell him anything, but . . .” She trails off and casts her eyes in the direction of the living room. “But, like, I don’t really want to talk to him about some stuff. I told him I need deodorant the other day, and he cleared his throat, like, five times and said okay, but he looked kind of funny. Kind of embarrassed?”
“Tuff Lady Fresh,” I tell her. “Stupid name, best deodorant. I buy a five-pack. I’ll give you one so you can see what you think. But you know how I figured that out?”
She shakes her head no.
“My dad was an alcoholic. If he’d ever been sober enough to think about what I needed, I still don’t think stuff like deodorant would cross his mind. But every now and then, my aunt would have me come stay the night, and one morning she said, ‘Jolie, you stink. Take this deodorant, and if you run out, just tell me.’ But I never would. I’d just buy it whenever I had enough extra at the grocery store.”
Her eyes grow round. “My dad has drug problems. And anger problems? And I think stealing problems.”
“This is kind of what I mean about having things in common. I could have used a female mentor, an adult in my life who could understand what I was going through and the kinds of questions I might have or things that I might need. My aunt did her best, but she worked a lot, and I slipped off her radar more often than not.”
“Uncle Lucas keeps me on his radar pretty good. And Pops.”
I nod. “Good men. But I hope you’ll still consider being my protégé.”
“Protégé.” She repeats the word. “Uncle Lucas used that word too, but I couldn’t figure out how to spell it to look up what it means.”
I point to my chest. “Mentor.” I point to her. “Mentee.” Her expression clears. “But the proper word is protégé. So that’s what I’m here to ask you. Would you be my protégé? We’d mostly hang out and talk about books or do nerdy things, but you’d be able to ask me questions about anything, any time. Like deodorant. Or bras. Or boys, although I still don’t really understand them. Or prom dresses. Whatever you want. What do you think?”
“Do you like K-pop?” she asks, her expression serious.
“Don’t know much about it, but I’m happy to learn.”
“Okay. I’d like to be your Mentos.”
“Mentee, you mean?”
“Yeah, but Mentos is funnier.” She grins, and like the brief glimpse I caught on our shopping trip, I see the full Brooklyn coming through.
“You’re right, Mentos. Want to hang out Saturday morning before I go to work? I’m thinking get some more ice cream and maybe hit the bookstore for a book signing with Sasha Liu.”
Her eyes grow huge. “No way.”
“Oh, very much yes way.”
I get another squeal and it makes me laugh. “So I’ll see you Saturday morning.”
“Yes. For sure.”
“Great. Let’s finish our ice cream, and I’ll explain the plan to your uncle.”
Brooklyn tucks into the rest of her dessert, peppering in information about her K-pop that she feels it’s important for me to know. When we return to the living room ten minutes later, she tells Lucas, “We’re going to be Mentos.”
She grins up at me, and I smile at him. “She said yes,” I explain. “Could you bring her over Saturday morning? We’re going to hang out.”
“Sure,” he says. “Happy to.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I better go.” I need to trade the warm glow of this Brooklyn situation and Lucas’s smile for an evening of trying to fight off the impending failure of the Mockingbird, which is sort of the key element of my now-shaky fall back plan. I don’t want to think so negatively, but the part of me that learned life on hard mode knows it’s the only way to keep things stable.
“I’ll walk you out,” Lucas says, shoving up from the sofa while Brooklyn settles in to watch theWheelwith her great-grandfather.
