I breathed out through my nose, trying to push away my irritation. He didn’t deserve it. “They didn’t hurt me. Not like you’re thinking. I wasn’t exactly the most levelheaded person.”
“Apathy can hurt just as much as a fist,” he said quietly. “Just because it’s not physical doesn’t mean it was okay.”
“I know that. But it’s not—look. It sucked. I know that. But I made myself into who I am, and that’s all that matters.”
“You did a pretty good job of it too, if you ask me.”
I groaned. “Why are you so nice all the time? It makes it too damn hard to be mad at you.”
“Pretty great, right?”
“Asshole,” I muttered, but then I bumped his shoulder back to show him I didn’t mean it. It was dangerous, this. But I couldn’t find it in me to care. I wasn’t lying when I’d said that I liked who I was. But I was liking where I was even more, and that should have scared the crap out of me. It did, somewhat. But it was faint. Maybe washing the dishes was calming. That didn’t mean I was going to do it at home.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Are you going to psychoanalyze me, Professor?”
“Nah. I’ve already pretty much got you figured out.”
Oh boy. I scrubbed the next plate as hard as I could, even though it was practically clean. “This should be good, then. Go for it.”
“Do you still talk to your fosters at all?”
Softball question. I had this. “No. I don’t even think they know I came back to Tucson. It was a clean break when I turned eighteen, right about the time the state stopped sending them the monthly check for their services for me. Funny how that works.”
“Have you ever thought about contacting them again?”
I squinted at him. “Why would I?”
“To see if anything’s changed. People grow.”
“They do. But I’m happy with what I’ve got. No, I haven’t contacted them, but they never contacted me either. My phone number didn’t change for a few years, but I didn’t even get a text at Christmas. It’s not… it isn’t the big deal you’ve probably made out in your head. They weren’t your mom. They weren’t Robert. They were people whose house I lived in until I could legally go out on my own. I worked my ass off, got scholarships, and never looked back. And I don’t regret any part of it.”
“Why did you come back? I’m happy you did,” he added quickly, like he thought I was going to bite his head off again. “But Tucson doesn’t seem to hold the best memories for you. And Dartmouth is a great school.”
“It is,” I agreed. “And I did okay there. But it wasn’t home.” I nodded toward the window. “I chose to do grad school here because I already had a family waiting for me. We may not be related, but they’re my family, for better or worse. I met Sandy when I was seventeen, and before I knew it, I was part of the Austers. I spent more time here in my senior year than I did at the fosters’. They came to my graduation and made signs and cheered for me. They told me I was important. I may have had apathy at home, but I had a family here.” I winced. “Holy shit, that sounded terrible. Jesus Christ. I swear I’m not normally this maudlin.”
Jeremy snorted. “I don’t know. That sounds all right with me.”
“Yeah, well, you should know that they already want to keep you. So I hope you meant that. You’re pretty much stuck with us.”
I felt him looking at me, but I studiously stared down at the sink.
“There are worse things, I suppose.”
I struggled to keep my composure. He sounded so fucking earnest about it. “You say that now. Wait until Nana wants to paddle you. Because she will. And there will be nothing you can do about it.”
He laughed.
Hearing him happy made me want to make him laugh again and again. “You don’t think I’m being serious,” I told him. “But I am.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. She’s intense.” He sobered as he glanced at me. “And tell me to shut up at any time. I don’t want to make things weird for you.”
“But….”
“But…,” he said slowly. He looked down at the sink, and just like that, I knew what he was going to ask. “Have you ever thought….” He shook his head.
I took pity on him. “About looking up my real parents?”