Page 141 of Dying to Meet You
He gives Natalie a wry smile. “She’s been busy. Right, Natty?”
“So busy,” Natalie agrees.
“How was it?” he asks as soon as they get outside.
She unlocks her bike. “Hard. I don’t have the table numbers memorized yet. And all the fried food looks the same.”
He laughs. “I don’t have a lot of life lessons to offer, except for one. Every new job you ever have will include a few days of thinking—what the fuck did I just do?”
She lets out a startled laugh, and they set off down Commercial Street toward home. “Good to know.”
“I mean it. Every single job. You’re not allowed to panic until the second week.”
“Fair. But I don’t want to screw up someone’s dinner.”
He grins. “You won’t. And they’ll eat again tomorrow, anyway. It’s not rocket science, it’s just labor.”
“I think this is part of Mom’s big strategy. She made me get a job just so I’d be stoked to apply to college.”
“I thought the point was making money?”
“That, too. Although Tessa is mad at me for taking a job without her.”
“Fine. Let’s get Tessa an application. See how long she’d last as an expediter.”
She smiles. “Not long, I bet.”
It’s a gentle uphill walk toward home, but it’s just dawning on her that she’s going to have to sleep tonight in a house where someone—possibly a murderer—recently broke in.
Her father is here, though, pacing quietly along beside her. It’s a comfort.
“Do you still love Mom?” she blurts out.
“Oh, Natty,” he says, and she already regrets asking.
But it’s late and it’s dark and it’s been a really weird day.
“God, just don’t ask your mom the same question.”
“I won’t,” she mumbles. “It’s none of my business.”
“Well, no. You have a right to wonder what happened. And it’s an easy answer for me—I’ll always love your mother. I never stopped. But things aren’t the same for her. I promised her we’d be together forever, and then I left her to raise you alone. I don’t think that’s something you ever get over.”
“Maybe not,” she agrees.
But it’s hard not to hope.
***
They get home fifteen minutes later. She locks her bike in the garage while her father sends a text to what is now their family group chat.
Harrison: We’re back. Coming inside in a second.
Lickie goes into a greeting frenzy, and the cat swings by to let her dad know she noticed his absence. “That cat really likes you.”
“Eh. I think it’s just that I smell like food.”
When they cross into the living room, they discover her mother is still awake. She’s cross-legged on the couch, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and sheets of paper in various sizes covering every available surface.
