“What?”
“Dad’s birthday. Today.”
“Yeah?”
“Aren’t you going to wish him happy birthday?”
“Does he want to be reminded? Forty is pretty old. Not quite a senior citizen but that landmark is definitely on the horizon.” Mack took another spoonful of cereal. “I figured he might rather ignore it. And it’s six fifteen. I’m not a morning person. I guess I could have made him tea, but he hates my tea. He always moans that it’s too weak.” She put the headphones back on her ears and went back to Snapchat. Dressed in an oversize T-shirt, she looked younger than sixteen. Her hair was the same sunny blond as Lauren’s, but Mack allowed hers to flop forward in an attempt to hide the stubborn spots that clustered on her forehead. Her braces had come off a few months earlier but she still smiled with her lips pressed together because she’d forgotten she no longer needed to be self-conscious.
It was only when Mack picked up her empty bowl to put it in the dishwasher that Lauren noticed the two pink streaks in her hair.
“What have you done to your hair?”
“I woke up with it this way. Weird, huh? Fairies or gremlins.”
“Mack—”
Her daughter sighed. “I dyed it. And before you flip out, everyone is doing it. All the other mothers were fine about it. Abigail’s mom helped her do hers.”
This was her cue to be like “all the other mothers.” It was a pass or fail test, and Lauren knew she was going to fail. “Why didn’t you discuss it with me?”
“Because you’re such a control freak you would have said no.”
“You have beautiful hair. Is this about trying to fit in?”
“I don’t care about fitting in.”
They both knew it was a lie.
Lauren picked her words carefully. “Honey, I know it’s hard when you’re teased, but it happens to a lot of people and—”
“That does not help, by the way. It makes no difference to me how many other people have been through it.” Nonchalance barely masked the pain and Lauren felt the pain as if it were her own.
“Your individuality is the thing that makes you special. And you need to remember that most people are thinking about themselves, not anyone else.” She decided that this wasn’t the time to raise the school issue again. “I know you’re upset. Has something else happened?”
“You mean apart from the fact that my mother is always on my case?”
“I’m trying to be supportive. We’ve always been able to talk about anything and everything.”
Mack scooped up her phone. “Yeah, right. Anything and everything. No secrets in this house.”
Her tone made Lauren feel uneasy.
“Mack—”
“I need to get ready for school. My mother had a place at an Ivy League college, so nothing short of Oxford or Cambridge is going to be good enough for me. Education is everything, right?”
It was too early in the morning to deal with teenage attitude. Lauren opened her mouth to remind her to wish her father a happy birthday, but Mack was gone.
Another slammed door. Her world seemed full of them.
No secrets in this house.
Feeling a burn of stress behind her rib cage, she took herself downstairs to the basement gym they’d installed and tried to run off her anxiety on the treadmill. She flicked on CNN, giving herself a taste of home.
Storms in Alabama. An alligator thirty feet long in Florida. A shooting in Brooklyn.
A wave of homesickness almost knocked her flat. She yearned for morning runs on South Beach, the smell of the sea, the taste of seafood caught fresh that morning, the sight of the sun setting near her sister’s house in Menemsha.