“You little brat!” explodes Bree.
“Well, you did say it. Right after you said he wasn’t Ann’s type because they would have ugly children.”
“What?!” screeches Ann.
Bree clenches her fist. “I ought to…!”
“Bree Grace Bennett! Don’t you dare.”
“But he’s such a brat!”
“Runs in the family,” remarks Ann.
Before things get any more out of control, I hold my hand up to quiet them. “Enough, all of you. We’re just answering questions. No need to get upset.” I take a deep breath to calm myself down. “Thank you, Cade. That was very informative. Bree, you’re next.”
“Great,” she mutters.
“Don’t worry, yours is easy too. Did you, or did you not, take your little brother to the candy store with the express intent of undermining your sister’s chances of getting to know Tanner?” I lean back in my chair, waiting for her response.
“What’s so easy about that?” she asks glumly.
“It’s a simple yes-or-no question. Did you…or did you not?”
Bree takes a moment to think, and then crosses her arms and says, simply, “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“You said it’s a simple yes-or-no question, so I’m telling you simply, yes.”
“Yes what?” I press.
“Yes, I did or did not do what you said.”
“Did or didn’t?”
With arms still folded defiantly, Bree again replies with a determined, “Yes.”
I could scream, but I just shake my head instead. Under my breath, I angrily mumble, “Takes after her father…” I clear my throat, then continue. “Very well. I appreciate your honesty.” I immediately turn my focus to the other end of the couch. “Ann?”
“Yes,” she says solemnly.
“Your turn. One question.”
“You promise…just one?”
“Just one. But it’s not an easy one.” We lock eyes for several seconds. I almost hate to ask this. I wish I knew the answer without having to pry it out of her. It would be so much easier if I could just read her like a book and learn everything I need to know. “Why did you lead Tanner to think you’re not a good swimmer?”
Ann stares at me for several seconds, and then diverts her attention to the floor. “Because.”
“That’s not an answer.”
There is a very long silence, then Ann finally admits, “Because…he’s really cool. And I think he likes me.”
“Good! You’re very likable. But to really like you, he needs to know you, and that’s not likely to happen with lies. You’re an incredible swimmer, Ann, among other amazing talents. You should be proud and let him get to know the real you.”
I hardly realize that Ann has started crying until she stands up and places a hand over her heart, like she’s about to give the pledge of allegiance. “Yes, I’m an incredible swimmer,” she says, gagging on the words. “But one who can’t swim. Just like I’m a runner who can’t run, and a straight-A student who hardly went to school last year.” She hesitates, trying hard to compose herself. “What I really am, though, is a time bomb. I’m a heart attack waiting to happen. I’m a future that no boy would want, because my future is so uncertain.” The tears are flowing freely now, running down her cheeks and spilling onto the sea-blue shag. “So for now—to him—I don’t mind lying a little bit. I don’t want his pity. I don’t want him to see me as the girl who might die next month, or the girl on some dumb waiting list. I just want him to know me—Ann Bennett, the girl from Portland who is so carefree that she tried sushi on a whim just because it sounded cool. Just let me be that girl, OK, Mom?” She wipes away her tears and waits to see how I’ll respond.
But I don’t know how to respond. I honestly have no clue what to say right now. When did parenting get so complicated? When did my cute, cuddly babies grow into teenagers? How is it that my beautiful little girl is standing in front of me, on the cusp of womanhood, looking to me for guidance about how to balance the youthful desires of romance with the unkind realities of a dysfunctional heart? What do I say to that?
And for crying out loud, somebody please explain to me how kids have become so bold as to hug in front of their parents on the very first “date”!
I’m still speechless.
When I don’t respond, Ann wipes her tears once more, then whispers, “I need to go lie down before I send my stupid heart into failure.”
I check my watch as she disappears upstairs.