Page 50 of Lance

I straighten up and face her. “What’s wrong?” I ask, before she can sayanything.

Her face tightens. “I’m fine. I just…had a bad talk with my mom today, that’sall.”

She certainly doesn’t look fine. She looks like it’s taking everything she has not to cry. “Come sit down,” I tell her. “Let’s talk aboutit.”

“Oh, I don’t really want to…” But she trails off, letting me lead her to the dining table. Once I’m sitting across from her, she gives a huge sniff and hurriedly wipes at her eyes. “I don’t know why I let her bother me somuch.”

“Parents arecomplicated.”

She snorts. “That’s an understatement.” She sniffs again and tears gather in her eyes. “I shouldn’t care so much what she thinks,” she says. “I should have grown out of this bynow.”

I get up and grab a roll of paper towel, handing her a piece as I sit back down, next to her this time. “It’s normal to want to please your parents, Willa. I think everyone struggles withthat.”

“Yeah, but everyone doesn’t let their parent determine their every move. I let her pick my freaking major, for God’ssake.”

“But you’re learning to stand up for yourself more,” I remind her. A few tears splash down her cheeks and I find myself reaching over to touch her arm. I just can’t help it, not when she’s sad. “Willa, you totally stood up to her when you took a break fromschool.”

“Yeah, but then she showed up to guilt trip me and now I’m wondering if I made a hugemistake.”

A cold sliver of panic slides through me.Please don’t let her change her mind about this job. I honestly don’t know what I would do, how I could cope without herhelp.

But looking into her drawn, sad face, I know I have to push the thought away. I can’t be someone who tries to talk her into doing something she doesn’t want to do. I can’t be that selfish—but God, I want tobe.

“Do you think you made amistake?”

She blows her nose and looks up at me, her eyes still watery. “No. I needed to take this time. I know it was the right thing to do.” Her hands clench into fists on the table. “I just wish I didn’t feel like such afailure.”

“You’re not a failure, Willa, comeon.”

She looks away. “I let the pressure get to me, Lance. I dropped out of school. That’s kind of the definition offailing.”

“But look at how much you’re helping Simon.” She looks at me skeptically. “He adores you. You have to see that. You’ve made a tough situation much easier forhim.”

She glances into the living room where Simon is presumably engrossed in his show. “He’s a good kid.” She releases a shaky breath. “The thing is, Ilikewhat I’ve been doing. I like hanging out with Simon. I like not being in school, not worrying about my grades and…and…not trying to be perfect foronce.”

“No one is perfect. Trying to live up tothat—”

“It’s how I’ve lived my life,” she says, her voice bitter. “Always trying to be the best, to impress everyone. The best grades, the best school, the best behavior. You should hear the way my family talks about me to other people. ‘Minnie never gets in trouble. Minnie never lets anyone down. Watch how Minnie can do freaky math skills in her head! Minnie had a paper published—’” She breaks off, breathing heavily, and I think, with a sick feeling, that Ihaveheard her family talk that exact way. It’s what James has always said about her. I’m about to point out that I always assumed it was a compliment when she goes on. “The only thing anyone has had to say about me for the last twenty years involves my schoolwork. No one talks about what I’m like as a person. What my interests are. What I care about. They don’t even know.” She swallows. “They don’t knowme.”

“I know you,” I say, without thinking. “I know that you’re someone who cares about helping others. I know that you’re funny and you’re fun to be with.” She looks back to me, her face not so tight, her eyes not as sad, and again I’m struck by how beautiful she is. It’s not the kind of thing I ever really manage to forget, of course, but I’ve been trying my damnedest not to think about it since she’s been watching Simon. Shit is complicated enough as itis.

Of course, knowing that doesn’t keep my damn mouthshut.

“I know you’re saving my ass by being here. And I don’t really give a shit if your mom is disappointed—I think what you’re doing is the opposite of failing. You’re figuring things out for yourself. That takes guts. And…hell, Willa. We’d be a mess without you. MeandSimon.”

She’s quiet, staring at me, and then she gulps, brushing away fresh tears. “Thanks,Lance.”

Damn it. I didn’t mean to make her cry even more. “You know what else I think?” I ask quickly, wanting to get us back onto safer ground. “I think I just sent a six-year-old into a room with a twenty-thousand dollar piano and no adultsupervision.”

Her eyes go wide. “Twenty-thousand dollars?” she says, her voice strangled. “Seriously? For apiano?”

“Yup. And it’s used. You should see what they charge for newones.”

“Holy shit,” she mutters, looking a little sick. “And you left Simon alone withit?”

I stand, grinning. “Let’s go make sure the thing is still in onepiece.”

We find Simon sitting on the couch with his snack. “I didn’t touch it at all,” he says the second he sees us. “I wanted to, but Ididn’t.”