Hate You Not

“Don’t be a liar, Buggie.”

I cover my face with my hands, letting out a big sigh. “Fine, okay? We did. We messed around.”

“The night he stayed? After the kegger?”

“Yes.” I peek out at her from in between my fingers.

“What happened? Did he take advantage of your compromised state?” She waggles her brows, and I cover my eyes again.

And then I tell her. “It was me…who went for him. It was pent-up rage and loathing.”

Like Burke himself, Leah thinks that’s just freaking hilarious.

“Don’t laugh,” I order. “This is a known thing. He was made hotter because he’s such a dick.”

“And his actual dick?” Her eyes are alight.

“Shut up, Leah.”

“Oh, c’mon! You know you want to tell me.”

“I just…felt it,” I whisper. I hold a napkin over my red face and whisper, “As opposed to seeing it. But it was perfectly acceptable. In fact, I give it five stars.”

“Five out of five, or five stars out of ten?”

“Out of five.” I lower the napkin so she can see my eye roll. “You know, like on Amazon.”

She nods, popping another cheese-slathered tortilla chip into her mouth. “So?”

“So?” I echo.

“Now I need the context, dumbass.”

“What context?”

“Like…your feelings?” She rolls her eyes, as if she really does think I’m a moron.

“I don’t have feelings. About him.”

Her mouth blooms into a big grin. “You’ve got it worse than I knew.”

“What would they be—these special feelings? I mean…he’s just a guy I know. Like any guy.”

“He’s one of your babies’ only accessible relatives on their daddy’s side,” she points out.

I smile at how she called them my babies.

“Do you think Sutt would mind?” I muse. Leah knows me so well that she understands the question.

“That you kind of think of them as yours now?” She smiles sadly, shaking her head. “She would love that more than anything, Bug. You know that.”

Our food arrives. I can barely look at the waitress, as if she knows what we’ve been talking about.

“I know,” I say after she goes. “It’s so weird, the way it’s sad and happy at the same time.”

Leah nods, cutting a piece of enchilada with her fork. “I’m sure it must be so weird. But like…good weird?”

“Yeah.” I blow my breath out. “I think that’s why I find it so strange. Because my feelings about it are mostly good. And not sad. And isn’t that…disloyal to her or something?”

“What, you mean like when you think of them growing up with you as their guardian, it makes you happy?”

I nod, and she grins. “That’s nothing but amazing, chica. That’s why she picked you. Because you’ve had a while to sit with it—a while to mom them—and it makes you happy. Truly happy. I know you would tell me if you weren’t.”

I nod. I would tell Leah. “I love having them at my house. I feel happier. I really do. They’re fun, and so cute and smart. I think I just feel so sad that Sutton’s missing out.”

“Did you decide that she’d go early?”

I frown, not understanding what she means.

“Did you? Like, was her death your choice?”

“No,” I say, aghast.

“Then don’t feel sorry, June. If you start to feel guilty or sorry for her, just don’t. Because that part was not your choice. What you’re doing is honoring her legacy, and raising up her babies right. As your babies. Margot taking gymnastics and Oliver in karate…that would make her so damn happy. Driving them to Georgetown to take piano on Saturdays…we know that would make her happy.”

“Yeah, well, they were taking lessons back at home.”

“In San Francisco,” she corrects. “You realize they will grow up with Heat Springs as home. And they will be just fine for it. If they turn out to be little budding rocket scientists, we’ll drive to Albany for school for them once they hit high school, or even middle school. All of us will help you do it. I don’t care what Snobby Pants said, smart kids are smart kids. They will not be held back by a small town. Small towns are enriching. Their tribe is bigger here than it was there, can’t you just feel it?”

I nod. It’s true the town has taken Oliver and Margot under its wing. It’s been good to see. The kids are thriving. That’s my honest assessment.

“And don’t forget Dr. Weber.”

I nod. I’ve been driving the kids to talk with Dr. Weber on Thursday afternoons. She’s our friend Madilyn’s uncle’s new-ish wife, and she works in Albany. I talked to her a few times after Mom passed, and now the kids are talking to her about their stuff.

“I think that’s been helping them. She wants to drop it back in a few weeks to once a month unless I think they’re having trouble.”

“See?” She grins. “You’re so amazing, Buggie. I knew you could do this. When you got the call, I started sending up my prayers, but I knew you could. You’re made for stuff like this.”