said. “It’s not Julianne’s fault. It’s a brutal, ongoing cycle.”
He walked around the island and put his arm around my shoulders. “You make it very easy to forget I’m talking to a high schooler. I’m supposed to make you feel better, not the other way around.”
“Would it help if I said this sucks?”
He offered a small smile. “No, not after what Julianne said was in those journals. But thanks for trying.”
“Clearly upbringing has nothing to do with behavior,” Julianne said, rubbing her forehead. “You’re such a sweet, kindhearted person, Erin. Even after everything you’ve been through.”
“What are you going to say to Weston?” Sam asked, pushing up his glasses. The subtle hump on his nose failed to keep them where they belonged.
“You know about that too?” I asked, surprised.
“Julianne told me this morning. She wanted me to know what had upset you so much.”
I glanced up at Julianne, her white sweater making her look like the angel she was. “Did I wake you?”
“I was already awake. I’ve never heard you cry that way. I don’t think I’ve heard anyone cry that way. I had to know. I didn’t mean to pry, Erin, but it seemed too important to ignore.”
Three quick knocks on the door, and then we heard Weston’s voice, muffled by the door. “Erin?” he called, his nervousness evident.
I looked to Sam.
He nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
His footsteps echoed down the travertine-tiled hallway, and then the murmuring began.
“Just let me talk to her,” Weston said, his voice raised. “I can explain.”
Sam kept his voice low.
“What do you mean she doesn’t want to see me? Erin?” he called again. “Erin!”
“Weston.” Sam’s voice was strained, but firm.
Julianne’s eyes widened when a scuffle could be heard, and she rushed to the front door as well. I ducked my head and rested it in my hands.
“Stop!” Julianne said.
Their voices quieted, but the desperation in Weston’s voice could still be distinguished.
The door closed, and Sam and Julianne returned to the kitchen, both with stunned expressions.
“What was that?” I asked.
Sam sighed. “He wanted to come inside.”
“Did he push you?” I asked, swallowing. Apparently I didn’t know Weston at all.
Sam shook his head, clearly unsettled. “No, no…He pushed the door. I pushed back. He’s just upset. I told him you could discuss it later, but not to bother you at school. Want me to call Mr. Bringham?”
I shook my head. “Please don’t. I just want this to go away.”
“Why don’t you take the day off with me? We can go shopping. Or stay home and watch comedies On Demand.” Julianne’s contrived smile was oddly comforting. She was hurting for me, and so was Sam. Empathy wasn’t something I was used to, but there was nothing like it. Our family felt complete and real in that moment, and for the first time, I felt I belonged there in that kitchen, with the two people who loved me enough to stay up all night worrying, push against a door, and call the principal. I belonged with them because I belonged to them.
I hopped up and squeezed them both in a tight embrace. “Just a few more weeks. I can get through a few more weeks.”
Sam put his large hand gently on the back of my hair, pulling me to him.
Julianne pulled away to look me in the eyes, hers glossed over. “We wanted your last few weeks of school to be different. We wanted that so much for you.”
“I know.” I picked my bag off the floor and slung it over my shoulder. “I’ll see you after school.”
“Love you,” Julianne said.
Sam small smile was filled with awe and pride.
“I love you guys too,” I said, walking toward the garage.
“What else can we do?” I heard Julianne say. “I need things to be better for her.”
“She’s the toughest person I know, honey. She doesn’t need us to fix this for her. We’ll just love her through it.”
I smiled. That would carry me through the day.
In