Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

ERIKA

" M om! Mom, are you listening to me?"

My head snaps up from the dishes in the sink. Hannah is supposed to be unloading the dishwasher while I clean the pots, but instead, she's spent the last several minutes ranting about some girl in her math class named Ashley. I've been so absorbed in the events of today that I guess I tuned her out. I have no idea what Hannah has said in the last several minutes. I close my eyes, hoping I can rewind the ribbon in my brain, but I can't. Whatever Hannah said is gone forever.

"Um," I finally say.

"I knew it!" Hannah looks triumphant. "You weren't listening to me. You never listen to me."

"Yes, I do."

"Fine. Then tell me something that's going on with me. "

I put down the sauce pan I'm rinsing off. "You're not handing in your American history homework?"

Hannah's cheeks turn pink. "I told you. Those assignments are stupid."

"It doesn't matter. You still have to do them."

"But what's the point? Why do I need to know about some stupid war that happened, like, five-hundred years ago?"

"The revolutionary war happened two-hundred-fifty years ago, Hannah."

"Ugh!" She puts her hands on her hips. She's been doing that when she's upset ever since she was two years old. "What's the difference? It's still a really long time ago."

"It doesn't matter if you think it's stupid or not. It's part of your education. Liam always—"

"Right. Liam. You want me to be just like him. Because he's so perfect."

I turn to Hannah, staring at her pale, round face. I'm not entirely sure if she's being sarcastic or not. Most of the worst stuff with Liam happened when he was much younger—I would imagine Hannah is too young to even remember. When we sent him to Dr. Hebert, he was only seven and Hannah was five. I've tried my best to shield her from what goes on, but sometimes I wonder how much she knows.

Does Hannah know anything? Everything ? What has Liam told her? Did she mention Olivia in the car to tease Liam or to tip me off?

"After all," Hannah adds, "he's your favorite , isn't he?"

My cheeks burn. I hate that it's so obvious how I favor Liam over her. I shouldn't. It's a sign of terrible parenting. I read once that most children long for their parents to be proud of them, so it makes sense that Hannah is struggling in school if she feels like she'll never do as well as her brother.

"Hannah," I say, "you know that's not true. I love both of you equally."

She snorts.

"Look. Why don't we do something together? Just the two of us. I can take you to the mall this weekend and we can get you some new clothes. We haven't had a shopping spree in almost a year. I owe you."

My daughter narrows her eyes at me, but it doesn't take much to win her over. New clothes usually do the job. "Can we go on Saturday?"

"Sure."

"And can we go to Purple Haze after?"

Purple Haze is an ice cream shop that Hannah used to love when she was a little kid. "Of course."

Her lips widen in a smile. "Okay. That sounds good."

Of course, then I start to second-guess myself. I just discovered Hannah hasn't been handing in her history assignments. Maybe this situation doesn't call for a reward. But now that I've told her we're doing this, I can't very well take it back.

"But," I add, "we'll only go if you hand in all your history homework this week. And I want to see it, Hannah."

Hannah looks like she's about to start pouting, but then her shoulders drop. "Okay. Fine."

A small victory.

Before we can make a further dent in the dishes, the front door opens, and the heavy footsteps of my husband and son float into the kitchen. Jason took Liam out for another driving lesson tonight. Things are going very well—Liam is a natural behind the wheel. No surprises there.

They come to find us in the kitchen, where we've barely made a dent in our chores for the evening. Jason is grinning broadly, and he slings an arm around Liam's shoulders. "What can I say, Erika? Our kid is a great driver. Just like his dad."

I shoot him a look.

"And his mom," Jason quickly adds.

Hannah snorts. "Nice save, Dad."

She has commented on more than one occasion that I've got Jason completely whipped. I don't know if it's true, but he's a good husband. I don't have to nag him to take out the garbage, he always remembers our anniversary, and he changed more than his fair share of diapers when the kids were little.

If there's one thing I would change about him, I'd wish he were a little less laid-back. Especially when it comes to my concerns about Liam. He's always shrugged everything off as "boys will be boys." But I know one of these days it's going to be bad enough that he won't be able to do that anymore.

I look at Liam, and his face has no expression until he notices me watching him. Then he smiles. "I can't wait to get my license," he says.

"And then you can drive me to school in the morning," Hannah pipes up.

"Sure." Liam gives me a pointed look. "If Mom and Dad get me a car."

"We'll see," Jason says. "For now, stick with your mother's Toyota."

I brace myself, waiting for him to add, "We'll probably get you one for your birthday." But he doesn't. Thank God. I think Liam will be a good driver, but something about him having his own car makes me a little uneasy.

"But Liam did do great today." Jason joins me at the dishwasher and starts unloading dishes on his own, even though it's Hannah's job. "He checked his mirrors when he was supposed to. He did the right thing when we got to every stop sign. I wasn't terrified even once."

Liam laughs. "Thanks, Dad."

"You've got to be careful out there," he says. He pulls out a couple of plates from the dishwasher and cocks his head thoughtfully. "Hey. Did you hear about the guy who lost his left arm and leg in a car accident? But he's all right now."

Hannah lets out a groan. Liam and I are silent.

"He's all right now," Jason says. "Because he has no left arm or leg. Get it?"

"No, I get it," I say.

Jason grins at me. "Well, you're not laughing. So I thought I needed to explain it."

"Nope."

Jason winks. Even before the kids were born, he used to tell his cheesy jokes. But back then, a lot of the jokes involved a saucy double entendre. Now they're straight-up dad jokes. But I find it endearing that he persists in making them, even though nobody laughs.

My phone starts ringing from the living room. I use the generic ringtone my iPhone came with, because I can't be bothered to change it. Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure how. My husband is a tech guy and I can't change the ringtone on my phone .

I hurry to the phone and pick it up before it stops ringing. I stare down at the name that pops up on the screen. Frank Marino.

Frank is calling me back.

I quietly slip outside to take the call. And I shut the door behind me.