Page 6 of Big & Lily
“—rich coming from you” is all we can hear of Lily’s retort to my mother.
“What the hell?” Cam leans against the doorjamb, his handsome face creased by sheet marks, his hair both flattened and sticking straight out at the same time. “I don’t have to be at work till noon. Can’t you all ever chill?”
I take a deep breath and let it out to a count of four like they suggest on the mediation app I downloaded but only had the patience to try once. I’d like to say this chaos is an anomaly, but it’s not. Even without Lily here, mornings in the Ackerman-Petty household, ever since the kids moved back in and Mom arrived, filling our empty nest with an odd array of mismatched eggs, often start out like a barn fire.
“I’m taking the car, and I’m leaving in five,” Annie says to Cameron. “So, you’d better figure out how you’re getting to work.”
“No, Annie,” I break in before they can start fighting over the fact that they share a car. “You need to drop Grandma at water aerobics in half an hour.”
“Sorry, Mom. I can’t. We’re spaying five cats today. Dr. Kozak wants all the techs in early. Tell Cam to do it.”
“I don’t have a car. Duh,” my son says.
I check my list. Number One:Peloton ~20 min.I glance downat the workout clothes that have suddenly become nothing more than athleisure wear. “Fine,” I say.
“Oh, and you’re going to have to give me a ride home,” says Lily.
“And since you’ll be out anyway, can you pick up some more bananas?” asks Annie.
“And don’t forget my prescription at CVS,” chimes in my mother. Lily flinches at the mention of the pharmacy’s name.
Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four.
Finally, like a crashing wave, they all recede. Annie takes her smoothie and goes upstairs to dress. Mom returns to her pod in the backyard to pack up her swimsuit and goggles. Cameron goes back to bed—he’s got hours before his shift. Tim, the smartest guy in the family, is still outside on the driveway. Lily and I are alone. It’s quiet enough that I can hear a jay whistling outside. The garbage truck rumbles down the street. The Graingers’ old deaf dog barks at something it remembers hearing in the past. I rinse the glass jar of the blender in the sink and wipe up the milk Tiger missed. My sister leans against the counter, her arms crossed, watching me.
“I figured out what I’m going to do,” she says.
I wipe my hands on a dish towel. “Oh?”
“Yeah. I’m getting the hell out of here. I’m going to go as far away as I can. And I want you to come with me, Big. Please, I need you. Say you’ll come with me.”
Chapter Three
“Lily, clearly you’re upset. With good reason. But ?what on earth are you talking about?”
My sister’s eyes widen as if she is about to tell me a fantastic tale.
“As far away as I can. Buenos Aires. Costa del Sol. Istanbul.”
“I’m sorry, Lil. I can’t go to Istanbul. Mom has a periodontist appointment next Tuesday.”
I see Tim out of the corner of my eye, still in the driveway in his pajamas, looking toward the back door, weighing the pros and cons of coming back in. Instead, he inspects the peonies that are about to bloom.
“You’re being funny, and I’m being serious. Do you understand what just happened to me? He ruined my whole fucking life!”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You’re right. This is serious. What I mean is, you can’t let him get away with this. That’s exactly why I don’t think it’s in your best interest to take off. It’s not like you to let your flight instinct win out. The Lily I know would stay and fight.”
Lily sinks into a chair at the kitchen table, deflated. She takes a sharp breath that sounds like it’s being stopped by a sob trying to come out the other way.
“Jesus. The store.” Tears fill her beautiful eyes. They roll down her cheeks and drip off her chin. She places her hand on her impossibly flat stomach. “And the baby.”
What am I supposed to tell my little sister now? That it’s going to be okay? That she still has time to divorce her asshole husband, meet someone new, experience a whole relationship that will hopefully evolve into a long-term commitment and start trying to get pregnant all over again? I mean, technically she does, but it’s not going to help. It’s like telling someone whose house has burned down that they are lucky because now they can build that butler’s pantry and the extra bedroom they always wanted.
I want to go down to Sweet Dreams right now and smother that jerk with one of his two-hundred-dollar Canadian goose-down pillows. Instead, I cradle my sister’s head in my arms and let her soak my sleeve with her tears.
The moment is interrupted as Annie flies into the kitchen, dressed in her kitty scrubs, a backpack tossed over one shoulder, shouting, “I’m late!” Her frantic search through the junk drawer for the car keys mercifully allows Lily to wipe her face and compose herself.
“Goddammit, Cam,” Annie shouts, even though her brother is across the house and up the stairs and in bed behind a closed door. “Where’s the keys!” Cameron doesn’t answer. Annie slams the drawer as Tim walks back into the kitchen.
