Gia threaded her way through the cars in the lot to where she'd parked her Prius that morning. She was running late; Ben had sliced open his thumb with a utility knife while stocking the supplies in the back, and Ricardo had driven him to Urgent Care. Gia had waited for Ricardo to return, anxiously watching the clock, knowing Tim and Ren had dinner reservations at six. Her sister had been understanding, but Gia knew how precious her date nights with her husband were—they only got out together once or twice a month—and she hated making them wait for her.
She had just reached for her door handle when someone said her name behind her. Startled, she spun around to find Ricky standing a few feet away. What on earth was he doing here?
"Seriously?" she asked, and then smacked her forehead with an open palm. Stop using that word, Gia!
"I just want to talk to you for a minute." He took a few steps closer, but when she turned and glared at him, he stopped.
"You got my texts, right?" she said, cocking her head, her eyes narrowed. It wasn't really a question so she didn't wait for him to answer. "I can't talk right now. I'm late as it is."
"I know. I did get them." He grinned sheepishly. "I got my phone snagged in Lenarde's class."
Gia crossed her arms and raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "I thought you ditched class today. So Lenarde has your phone now?"
"I ended up going to class, but then bailed halfway through. I got it back when I left. Instead of calling or texting, I just came by here to wait for you so we could—"
"Because waiting for me in this parking lot worked so well for you earlier today? What if I'd come out here with Jupiter again? What if Ben walked me out? Or a customer, some guy you didn't recognize? Would you have jumped out of your car to defend my honor again?" Her voice was hitching up in exasperation. "Why didn't you just text me? I offered to come over after Ren's date night, you know."
"I didn't know—"
She cut him off, not wanting to hear it. "You did know. My phone shows that you read my message. You did know."
"That's not what I was going to say." But when he opened his mouth again, she held up her hand to stop him.
"I have to go." She said each word emphatically, like he was a slow-witted imbecile. Then she turned around and got into her car, slamming the door behind her. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting like this, lurking around the parking lot waiting for her, spying on her, and assuming things he had no right to assume about her?
She had backed into her parking space, so she started her car and pulled out, glancing only once in her rear view mirror to see Ricky standing in the spot she'd vacated, arms crossed and shoulders drooping. A wave of guilt pressed against her sternum, but she kept going.
What was wrong with her? Two days ago, she'd been hanging on Ricky's arm, breathing in the smell of him and thinking about their forever future together. Right now she didn't want to entertain even a single moment with him. She cranked up the radio and sang along, doing her best to drown out the nagging thoughts.
Dinner at Ren's was Gia's specialty, macaroni and cheese and piggies in a blanket with the good hot dogs. Of course, the kids had to eat the token pile of greens, too... three peas and at least one giant bowl of green Jell-O with whipped cream (turned green with a few drops of food color) on top. She felt no shame—she knew they got plenty of healthy food the rest of the week from Renata.
Reuben and Simon had homework so while they worked at the coffee table, she played a board game with Levi and Judah. Baby Charise, who'd nursed right before Ren and Tim left, had been pleasant and alert throughout dinner, eating hearty spoonfuls of Greek yogurt mixed with Ren's homemade baby cereal. She now slumbered limply in a baby sling on Gia's chest, every now and then her tiny pink lips moving in a sucking motion.
"Gia, your phone is buzzing," Reuben told her, eying her purse on the floor by the front door. "This is like the fourth time."
"I know. But I'm here with you guys right now. It can wait," she assured him. She knew who it was and she didn't want to talk to him. She certainly had no intention of going by Ricky's tonight. But as much as she just wanted this day to be over, she had no real desire to show up at work in the morning to face Jupiter again. She would not apologize for Ricky's behavior—it wasn't her fault he was acting like a child—but that didn't stop her from being embarrassed by it. The fact that Jupiter had accepted the gauntlet all but thrown down by Ricky just meant the guy wouldn't be cowed, and even though she wished it hadn't happened at all, she was glad Jupiter had stood his ground. She didn't like being objectified and that's how Ricky's behavior made her feel, like he had some kind of claim on her.
"Maybe you should turn it off then so it doesn't bother us while we're trying to do our homework," Simon said, his voice low and serious. He wasn't intentionally rude, but he often sounded that way. He was just one of those kids who hadn't figured out how to temper his thoughts with social niceties.
"Good idea, dude," Gia said. She got up and went to her purse, grimacing when her phone started buzzing again. This time, it was the rhythmic buzz of a call and not just a text notification. With a hand on Charise's head to keep it from, she snatched up her purse, rooted around in it until she found her phone, and glanced at the name on her screen.
"Oh!" Her eyes widened in surprise. Ren. "Hey, sis," she said, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Hey, you. How are things?" Renata sounded relaxed and Gia smiled, glad her sister seemed to be enjoying her night out with her husband.
"Great. Homework, board games, booze and cigarettes. You know, the usual. Charise has already passed out from all the wild times. Judah might be next, the little party animal."
"I dint do nothin' wrong," Judah hollered when he heard Gia say his name to his mother. The poor kid was way too used to being told on.
Ren chuckled into the phone. "Well, I hate to cut your shenanigans short, but we sat next to a fussy baby all during dinner who triggered my milk flow. I've soaked through my nursing pads and now I'm walking around with two wet spots on my pretty orange sweater. Poor Tim keeps giving the evil eye to anyone he catches looking." She chuckled good-naturedly.
"Oh no," Gia said, glad that her sister seemed to be taking it all in stride. "So you're coming home now?"
"Yes. At this point, we're just trying too hard to have a good time." Tim said something in the background that made Ren laugh. "Okay. That does it. Tim just challenged some poor guy to a duel at sunrise. We'll see you soon."
Gia guffawed, but then asked, "Did you at least have a good time part of the time?"
"We've had a great time," Ren cooed. Her response was slightly muffled, as though she might be talking more to Tim rather than into the phone.
Gia made a face, not missing the lovesick tone of her sister's voice. "Ew. Say no more. I'll see you when you get here."
Less than fifteen minutes later, Renata was taking the now awake Charise from Gia with the desperation of a nursing mother too long separated from her baby, and Tim was picking out bedtime stories with the help of the two younger boys. Reuben had finished his homework and sat reading a comic book Gia recognized as one Ricky had loaned him, and Simon still hunkered over his paper, intense concentration furrowing his young brow. He'd barely acknowledged the arrival of his parents.
It was only 8:30 when Gia climbed into her car. For a few minutes, she simply sat, the stillness of the night settling around her. The stars were bright in the sky overhead, reminding her of their senior prom and the canopy of twinkle lights crisscrossing the ceiling while she and Ricky danced the night away. Not quite a year ago, but it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then. She knew her grandparents were starting to wonder what her plans for the future were. Even though they didn't say anything, she sensed it in the way they watched her, the way they seemed to be marking time.
A thought niggled at the back of her mind, one that scared her when she focused on it for more than a heartbeat. Was the time they were marking hers or theirs, she wondered.
She decided to take advantage of the early hour and head home to watch television with Gramps. He liked his History Channel shows, often commenting on the things they got right or wrong based on his own personal experience. He thought it a hoot that folks considered a good chunk of his lifetime as 'historical' already, but Gramps had lived almost eighty years.
Gia stopped by the market on the way home and grabbed a box of Little Debbie's Nutty Buddy Snack Bars, a favorite indulgence food among the Gustafsons.
Sure enough, Gramps was ensconced in his recliner, remote on the wide armrest, bare feet elevated on the footrest. "You're home early, sweetie," he said when she walked in and handed him the open box of treats. "Pull up a chair. Watching an Abe Lincoln documentary. Fascinating man." Gramps was of the mindset that one didn't need a lot of words to say things, but his short sentences never failed to communicate his thoughts.
Gia plopped down on the old sofa beside him. "Sounds good. Where's Gran?"
"She's showering. Should be out soon." He eyed the box of junk food in his hand and passed it back to Gia. "Better if you're holding this when she does."
Gia grinned. Granny G appreciated the cheap snack bars as much as anyone, but she always made the obligatory show of disapproval when one of them came home with a box. Then she'd indulge right along with them. "I'm going to make a cup of Chai tea. Want some?" she asked, but she already knew the answer. Gramps didn't drink much of anything after dinner. He'd begun having some bladder control issues over the past couple of years, and had found that not having liquid past a certain hour made for a much more peaceful night's rest for everyone, especially since he refused to sleep in 'old man diapers' as his doctor had suggested. But she always offered anyway, knowing that if she didn't, she'd not only be acknowledging his weakness, but also accommodating it, too. So even though they all knew his reasons for refusing, she kept asking, allowing him the dignity of turning her down of his own free will.
Granny G, however, loved the flavorful Chai blend Gia kept stocked, so she made enough for both of them, and by the time her grandmother emerged from the back hall in her flannel pajamas, Gia had a steaming cup of tea and two Nutty Buddy bars on a napkin waiting for her on the coffee table. It was a peaceful night in the Gustafson home, and Gia settled into her corner of the sofa and tucked her feet up under her the way she'd done for as long as she could remember.
Because she didn't remember any other home before Gramps and Granny G's.
Snippets and snapshots of her parents flickered across the screen of her memory like old movies without sound, but truth be told, she wasn't sure if they were even her memories, or if they were pieced together from family pictures and everyone else's stories.
Gia had just turned four when her parents had been killed by a drunk driver, a girl named Angela Clinton who'd been in Juliette's graduating class. In fact, it had been on the way to her own graduation ceremony that Angela had run a red light and plowed into Paul and Simone Gustafson who were also heading to the event, killing Simone almost instantly when her head slammed against the passenger door window. Paul had lasted long enough to say goodbye to Gramps before he had joined his beloved wife, making the four Gustafson girls orphans. The sisters had moved into their grandparents' guest bedroom before the night was over, the three older girls commandeering the guest room suite, while Gia slept on a mattress on the floor of her grandparents' room for the first couple of months. She eventually moved into a tiny room that had once been her grandfather's TV den, but when she turned thirteen, the whole gang got together and redecorated the 'big girls' room' for her birthday gift. It had been—and still was—a teenager's dream room, complete with a four poster bed, furry throw rugs, beaded window and door curtains, and a bejeweled chandelier that rotated like a disco ball with the click of a remote. No, the only home she knew was the one provided by the grandparents who raised her like their own since the day Angela Clinton had taken Paul and Simone's lives.
Angela Clinton. Now there was a cauldron on the brink of bubbling over.