Butter Pecan 20; Red Currant 13
Author: Marina
Story: The Dragon World
Challenge: Butter Pecan 20 (hot), Red Currant 13 (frost)
Toppings/Extras: Caramel, Gummy Bunnies ( July’s card from origfic_bingo: vulnerability), Blueberries (“Men willingly believe what they wish.” - Julius Caesar), Malt (Birthday prompt from liketrains: “Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee affords.” - Richard Brautigan), Peaches (Have you recently lost some faith in the future, Cancer? Isn’t it time to do something about it, especially where your personal life is concerned?), Pineapple (“Somebody to Love” - The Great Society), Strawberries (Vanity Fair cover)
Word Count: 2,718
Rating: PG-13 (for angry!Lindsey)
Summary: Lindsey finds a sympathetic ear in Laura. It helps. A little.
Notes: Follows this. Also, hey! I’ve been on vacation these last few weeks and am thus very, very behind, but I’m back! And this is my last Red Currant, as well! :D
To avoid another lecture about the cost of gas, Lindsey walked to the coffee shop instead of taking the car. By the time she arrived, she had changed her mind about the hot drink she had been looking forward to since leaving the house-it was a surprisingly warm day for early February. She indulged in her favorite blended espresso drink-a double-chocolate concoction dubbed the “Schmetterling”-and a chocolate chip brownie instead, ignoring the decadence of the treat. She would work it off later, and besides, she had earned it after the stress of the week.
Having procured her snack, she settled into a booth near the back of the small room. It was the second largest in the place, but the only one open. Lindsey relaxed in her seat, attempting to ignore the nasty look that the customer at the register was giving her, and picked up her drink. The first sip made her feel so content that she regretted not bringing a book. She had an entire day to fill, because school was closed for President’s Day, and the batting range would be open for hours. A quick glance at her backpack showed that she didn’t happen to have any magazines or her iPod, either. She opened her wallet to ascertain whether or not she had enough money to buy the new issue of Seventeen, decided she didn’t, and made plans to stop at the library to pick up a book.
She settled back in her seat with a dissatisfied grunt and lifted her drink again. She was about to take a sip when she saw Laura Mitchell walk through the front entrance, and paused in surprise. Next to her brother, his best friend was just about the last person she wanted to see right then.
To make matters worse, Laura glanced over before she reached the register. She smiled in recognition. “Hey, Lindsey!”
Lindsey put down her drink and plastered a smile on her face. “Hey!”
Laura passed the cashier with a friendly wave and walked straight over to Lindsey’s table. “How are you?” she asked.
“I’m okay.” Lindsey deliberately refrained from asking how Laura was, in hopes that this would end the conversation quickly.
“Awesome. Hey, do you think I could sit with you for a few minutes? I’m meeting a couple of friends but I’m early and there aren’t any booths open right now.”
No, she wanted to say. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Great.” Laura took out her wallet and tossed her purse into the corner of the booth. “I’ll go get my drink and be right back.” With a smile, she turned and walked back to the cashier. Lindsey watched as the two of them engaged in a bit of cheerful conversation. The boy, apparently a friend of Laura’s, reached over and tried to tweak her nose. She laughed and ducked away, accidentally dropping her wallet on the floor.
The scene made Lindsey’s insides burn with envy. Laura was exactly the kind of girl who made her feel frumpy and uninteresting-she looked pretty even without makeup, she had a normal figure, and she always dressed stylishly, if a bit oddly. That day she wore combat boots, capris, suspenders that hung around her knees instead of on her shoulders, and a purple off-the-shoulder top underneath a pinstripe vest. Lindsey thought about her own outfit of track pants and a loose grey shirt, and mentally cringed.
She redirected her attention quickly to the bar in order to assess the situation. Laura’s cup was plastic-which meant that she had ordered an iced drink of some sort, and those always took longer than hot ones-and the last in a neat little row of five other cups. Lindsey immediately set about scarfing up her brownie. If she could be finished when Laura came back, she wouldn’t have to stay long.
Laura slid into the seat across from her just as she was finishing off the last of the brownie. Lindsey still had half her drink left, though, which meant that she would have to suffer Laura’s company for at least five minutes. “Busy today,” the older girl commented, glancing around at the busy room.
Lindsey made a noncommittal noise in reply, and then, feeling bad, began a frantic scan of the room in search of a conversation topic. She found it in Laura’s drink, also a Schmetterling. “Nice choice,” she said, gesturing to it.
“Yours, too,” said Laura, smiling. “This one’s my favorite. I always get it when I come here. It’s not that popular, though, apparently.”
“Really? Can’t imagine why, it’s great.”
“I think so, too, but it’s really rich. Not everyone likes that.”
Lindsey flinched a little at the reminder of her decadent snack choice, and wondered briefly if Laura had the metabolism of a hummingbird. “Guess not. Um, who are you waiting for?”
“A couple of my bandmates.” Laura’s face lit up. “We’re using today to edit some footage of our previous gigs into a sort-of preview, sort-of demo for people who are interested in having us play for events.”
“That’s really cool.” Despite her discomfort, Lindsey felt some interest. “What does your band play?”
“All kinds of things. People who hire us tell us what they want played at their events. Occasionally we get to pick and that’s usually indie rock.”
“So you don’t write your own songs?”
“Not right now.” Laura leaned forward, eyes darting around the room as if afraid someone they knew might be eavesdropping. “I’ve tried, though, a little bit,” she said. “I have a folder at home with ideas and snatches of melodies in it. I’m hoping to major in music composition in college.”
“Awesome,” said Lindsey. “Did you apply as that or undeclared or what?”
Laura shook her head. “I applied as an instrumental major for guitar. The university I want to get into doesn’t let you apply as music composition right away-you get into their program, and then you apply separately to be a composition major.”
“Got it.” She didn’t, really. It sounded like a complicated process, and she couldn’t see a good reason for it. “Well, good luck.”
“Thanks.” Laura cupped her hands around her drink and leaned forward. “So, how are you these days?”
At that, Lindsey realized how little progress she had made on finishing her coffee up to that point. She hastily took a sip before she replied. “I’m okay.”
“Just okay?” asked Laura, with a teasing smile.
“No, no, I’m good,” Lindsey said quickly-a bit too quickly, it turned out, because Laura’s expression morphed from slight playfulness to mild confusion. Trying not to let her apprehension show on her face, Lindsey attempted to recover. “I mean, home’s…kinda weird, right now, but softball season’s coming up. I’m looking forward to that. And it’s nice to have the day off today.”
Laura pursed her lips, and her eyes narrowed as if focusing. “Kevin said the same thing, a week or so ago,” she said. “About things being weird at home, I mean. Are you all okay? Did anything happen?”
“No,” Lindsey began, and stopped. No, we’re not freaking ‘okay,’ she wanted to say. As I bet you already know because my asshole brother probably told you all about it. If she had known Laura better, felt more comfortable with her, she would have said it with no hesitation. As they were hardly friends, she hesitated; poor word choice was what had gotten her into this awkward position in the first place. “It’s just…it’s been really uncomfortable since my parents got divorced. I was kind of hoping it’d be better by now.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Laura, with feeling. “That’s got to suck.”
“Yeah, it does.” Understatement of the year, she added silently, though she relaxed a little. Laura’s demeanor and tone showed nothing but sympathy. Maybe Kevin hadn’t told her, after all.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Again, Lindsey paused before answering. No one had asked her that question in a long time. She couldn’t remember her parents ever asking if she wanted to talk, not about the move from Virginia or school or sports or relationships or the stress of Sidney’s accident and Kevin’s disappearance. They had just been too busy trying to stay afloat and sane, and the divorce had made them more unapproachable than ever.
As for her siblings, Kevin could barely look her in the eye, and Sidney had always been closer to him. Even Lindsey’s friends were no escape from the tension. They asked simple, surface questions with no real commitment, and moved on after a quick that sucks or your brother’s a douche, just ignore him.
“I-" She swallowed against a suddenly tight throat. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to,” said Laura. “But I’m here, and I have time, if you want to.”
Lindsey snorted. “Probably not enough time for the whole story.”
“One second.” As she sipped her coffee, Laura grasped for her purse and retrieved her iPhone awkwardly with one hand. Searching for the contact she wanted went more smoothly. She smiled at Lindsey as she lifted the phone to her ear. Lindsey leaned her chin on her fist, watching without really focusing on the other girl. “Hey, Brent,” said Laura. “I’m at the coffee shop already. Whenabouts do you think you’re going to get here? Okay, that’s fine. See you then.” She casually dropped her phone back into her bag. “Brent is nowhere near ready and Shannon’s always late. I’ve got at least twenty minutes for you if you want them.”
Lindsey absently nudged her Schmetterling away and angled her face so that she looked at the table and not Laura. “I just really, really hate being at home right now,” she said, so quietly that the older girl had to lean closer to be able to hear. “It’s been really stressful and awkward since-for a long time. Almost since we moved here, and it just got worse and worse. Now it’s unbearable.”
“Unbearable how?”
“I can’t…be around them hardly at all. Mom’s playing the blame game and Dad’s being a passive-aggressive asshole. It makes me not want to be at home. And now Kevin’s trying to bring us all back together or some sappy shit like that and I just…can’t…” Fuck, she mouthed, covering her eyes quickly with the heels of her hands. She hadn’t cried in a long time, not even during the worst of it, and yet trying to talk about it was making her eyes water fast. Do not cry, do not cry, she scolded herself.
“What do you mean by that?” Laura asked, after an uncertain pause.
“He’s been cooking. Wants us to eat dinner together and bond and shit.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Lindsey felt foolish. It sounded so stupid, put like that, but she didn’t know how else to say it. “And I can’t,” she finished, lamely. “I can’t do it.”
A little snort caught her off guard. She looked up to see the tiniest hint of a baffled smile on Laura’s face. “I’m sorry, did you say he was cooking?”
At that, Lindsey cracked a small grin. Hearing it put like that twisted the issue a little bit in her head. “Yeah, he is. I even caught him wearing one of Mom’s aprons the other day.”
Laura slapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles. Screw it, Lindsey thought, and gave in to the impulse as well. Hers quickly escalated into undignified snorting and then full-out laughter as she recalled the memory: Kevin, in a pink-flowered apron that barely tied around his athletic frame, wrestling a simple macaroni casserole into their oven. She laid her head on the table and let her mirth go without shame. It felt good to feel something besides pissed off.
“Good grief,” Laura gasped, brushing the corners of her eyes with her pinky. “I can’t believe it. That’s probably about the last thing I’d have expected him to pick up.”
“It’s pretty freaking unbelievable,” Lindsey agreed. For a few reasons, she added silently, suddenly self-conscious about the direction their conversation had gone. Having a gossip session about Kevin with his best friend had not been part of her life’s plan, nice as it was turning out to be.
“I wish he would talk to me about it,” said Laura. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
Lindsey frowned. “I thought he told you everything.”
“Not really. Not right away, anyway. I had no idea things were so tense at your house, even.”
“Good, then he hasn’t tried to pull any crap about how I’m a raging bitch or anything like that.”
Laura’s big blue eyes widened in astonishment. “Kevin would never say that about you.”
“I think you’re confusing me with Sidney,” Lindsey said bitterly.
“No,” Laura insisted, “there are some things you just don’t say about siblings if you love them. I don’t know what he’s thinking, obviously, but I’m pretty sure he’d never actually say that about either of you, and especially not to me, because I’d be scandalized.”
“And tell him not to be such an asshole?” Lindsey could not help a little amusement.
“Not in those words,” Laura said, with a wry and somewhat appalled grimace. “He would congratulate me on using a swear word and then ignore me. But yeah, I’d have a few things to say.”
“That’s nice to know.”
They lapsed into an easy silence. Lindsey reached for her coffee again as she pondered her next move. She did not feel an immediate need to say anything, but had no idea how to continue the conversation when the time came. She felt tempted to just thank Laura for listening, get up, and leave.
And then…what? Go to the library? Bat a couple of rounds? Walk home to yet another awkward family dinner? Talking about her issues made her feel better, but it hadn’t actually changed anything.
“Can I say something?” Laura asked suddenly.
Surprised, Lindsey nodded.
“Obviously, I only know what you’ve told me,” said Laura, “so this is not a judgment on you or Kevin or your parents, and you can ignore me if you like. But…I think family dinners are a good idea. My family wouldn’t be able to get along as well as we do without them-my parents both work, I’m really busy with school and the band, and Chase is always with Carrie. But we sit down together every night and make the time for each other. I’m not saying that it will work for your family,” she added quickly, as Lindsey’s expression flattened out, “but it could. You never know.”
Lindsey pursed her lips, unsure how to respond. Her first instinct was to fling the advice back in Laura’s face with a you have no fucking idea what’s good for my family, and she almost gave in to it. But Laura had already said as much herself. And she meant well, that much was clear. Kevin had often said that Laura was good at helping and tried her best whenever she could. Lindsey was beginning to see why he craved her friendship so much.
She tried to imagine a meal with her mother that wouldn’t end in uncomfortable silences or angry words. It wasn’t easy. And she could forget about her father-almost every other word out of his mouth lately was some snide comment about the way Delia was raising them without him. No amount of effort on her part or cooking on Kevin’s would fix that any time soon.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
Laura nodded once. She seemed vaguely disappointed. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“You…didn’t, really.” Not wanting to explain, Lindsey scooped up what remained of her Schmetterling and rose from the booth. “I’m gonna go. Thanks for listening,” she said, more sincerely this time. “I really appreciate that. It seems like no one wants to, lately.”
“It’s no trouble,” Laura said, with a soft smile. “I’ll be thinking about you guys. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Thanks.” Lindsey gave Laura a rather feeble smile in return, turned on her heel, and jogged out the back door. Batting range next, she thought decisively. The urge to hit things was bubbling up in her stomach and threatening to make her ill.
Story: The Dragon World
Challenge: Butter Pecan 20 (hot), Red Currant 13 (frost)
Toppings/Extras: Caramel, Gummy Bunnies ( July’s card from origfic_bingo: vulnerability), Blueberries (“Men willingly believe what they wish.” - Julius Caesar), Malt (Birthday prompt from liketrains: “Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee affords.” - Richard Brautigan), Peaches (Have you recently lost some faith in the future, Cancer? Isn’t it time to do something about it, especially where your personal life is concerned?), Pineapple (“Somebody to Love” - The Great Society), Strawberries (Vanity Fair cover)
Word Count: 2,718
Rating: PG-13 (for angry!Lindsey)
Summary: Lindsey finds a sympathetic ear in Laura. It helps. A little.
Notes: Follows this. Also, hey! I’ve been on vacation these last few weeks and am thus very, very behind, but I’m back! And this is my last Red Currant, as well! :D
To avoid another lecture about the cost of gas, Lindsey walked to the coffee shop instead of taking the car. By the time she arrived, she had changed her mind about the hot drink she had been looking forward to since leaving the house-it was a surprisingly warm day for early February. She indulged in her favorite blended espresso drink-a double-chocolate concoction dubbed the “Schmetterling”-and a chocolate chip brownie instead, ignoring the decadence of the treat. She would work it off later, and besides, she had earned it after the stress of the week.
Having procured her snack, she settled into a booth near the back of the small room. It was the second largest in the place, but the only one open. Lindsey relaxed in her seat, attempting to ignore the nasty look that the customer at the register was giving her, and picked up her drink. The first sip made her feel so content that she regretted not bringing a book. She had an entire day to fill, because school was closed for President’s Day, and the batting range would be open for hours. A quick glance at her backpack showed that she didn’t happen to have any magazines or her iPod, either. She opened her wallet to ascertain whether or not she had enough money to buy the new issue of Seventeen, decided she didn’t, and made plans to stop at the library to pick up a book.
She settled back in her seat with a dissatisfied grunt and lifted her drink again. She was about to take a sip when she saw Laura Mitchell walk through the front entrance, and paused in surprise. Next to her brother, his best friend was just about the last person she wanted to see right then.
To make matters worse, Laura glanced over before she reached the register. She smiled in recognition. “Hey, Lindsey!”
Lindsey put down her drink and plastered a smile on her face. “Hey!”
Laura passed the cashier with a friendly wave and walked straight over to Lindsey’s table. “How are you?” she asked.
“I’m okay.” Lindsey deliberately refrained from asking how Laura was, in hopes that this would end the conversation quickly.
“Awesome. Hey, do you think I could sit with you for a few minutes? I’m meeting a couple of friends but I’m early and there aren’t any booths open right now.”
No, she wanted to say. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Great.” Laura took out her wallet and tossed her purse into the corner of the booth. “I’ll go get my drink and be right back.” With a smile, she turned and walked back to the cashier. Lindsey watched as the two of them engaged in a bit of cheerful conversation. The boy, apparently a friend of Laura’s, reached over and tried to tweak her nose. She laughed and ducked away, accidentally dropping her wallet on the floor.
The scene made Lindsey’s insides burn with envy. Laura was exactly the kind of girl who made her feel frumpy and uninteresting-she looked pretty even without makeup, she had a normal figure, and she always dressed stylishly, if a bit oddly. That day she wore combat boots, capris, suspenders that hung around her knees instead of on her shoulders, and a purple off-the-shoulder top underneath a pinstripe vest. Lindsey thought about her own outfit of track pants and a loose grey shirt, and mentally cringed.
She redirected her attention quickly to the bar in order to assess the situation. Laura’s cup was plastic-which meant that she had ordered an iced drink of some sort, and those always took longer than hot ones-and the last in a neat little row of five other cups. Lindsey immediately set about scarfing up her brownie. If she could be finished when Laura came back, she wouldn’t have to stay long.
Laura slid into the seat across from her just as she was finishing off the last of the brownie. Lindsey still had half her drink left, though, which meant that she would have to suffer Laura’s company for at least five minutes. “Busy today,” the older girl commented, glancing around at the busy room.
Lindsey made a noncommittal noise in reply, and then, feeling bad, began a frantic scan of the room in search of a conversation topic. She found it in Laura’s drink, also a Schmetterling. “Nice choice,” she said, gesturing to it.
“Yours, too,” said Laura, smiling. “This one’s my favorite. I always get it when I come here. It’s not that popular, though, apparently.”
“Really? Can’t imagine why, it’s great.”
“I think so, too, but it’s really rich. Not everyone likes that.”
Lindsey flinched a little at the reminder of her decadent snack choice, and wondered briefly if Laura had the metabolism of a hummingbird. “Guess not. Um, who are you waiting for?”
“A couple of my bandmates.” Laura’s face lit up. “We’re using today to edit some footage of our previous gigs into a sort-of preview, sort-of demo for people who are interested in having us play for events.”
“That’s really cool.” Despite her discomfort, Lindsey felt some interest. “What does your band play?”
“All kinds of things. People who hire us tell us what they want played at their events. Occasionally we get to pick and that’s usually indie rock.”
“So you don’t write your own songs?”
“Not right now.” Laura leaned forward, eyes darting around the room as if afraid someone they knew might be eavesdropping. “I’ve tried, though, a little bit,” she said. “I have a folder at home with ideas and snatches of melodies in it. I’m hoping to major in music composition in college.”
“Awesome,” said Lindsey. “Did you apply as that or undeclared or what?”
Laura shook her head. “I applied as an instrumental major for guitar. The university I want to get into doesn’t let you apply as music composition right away-you get into their program, and then you apply separately to be a composition major.”
“Got it.” She didn’t, really. It sounded like a complicated process, and she couldn’t see a good reason for it. “Well, good luck.”
“Thanks.” Laura cupped her hands around her drink and leaned forward. “So, how are you these days?”
At that, Lindsey realized how little progress she had made on finishing her coffee up to that point. She hastily took a sip before she replied. “I’m okay.”
“Just okay?” asked Laura, with a teasing smile.
“No, no, I’m good,” Lindsey said quickly-a bit too quickly, it turned out, because Laura’s expression morphed from slight playfulness to mild confusion. Trying not to let her apprehension show on her face, Lindsey attempted to recover. “I mean, home’s…kinda weird, right now, but softball season’s coming up. I’m looking forward to that. And it’s nice to have the day off today.”
Laura pursed her lips, and her eyes narrowed as if focusing. “Kevin said the same thing, a week or so ago,” she said. “About things being weird at home, I mean. Are you all okay? Did anything happen?”
“No,” Lindsey began, and stopped. No, we’re not freaking ‘okay,’ she wanted to say. As I bet you already know because my asshole brother probably told you all about it. If she had known Laura better, felt more comfortable with her, she would have said it with no hesitation. As they were hardly friends, she hesitated; poor word choice was what had gotten her into this awkward position in the first place. “It’s just…it’s been really uncomfortable since my parents got divorced. I was kind of hoping it’d be better by now.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Laura, with feeling. “That’s got to suck.”
“Yeah, it does.” Understatement of the year, she added silently, though she relaxed a little. Laura’s demeanor and tone showed nothing but sympathy. Maybe Kevin hadn’t told her, after all.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Again, Lindsey paused before answering. No one had asked her that question in a long time. She couldn’t remember her parents ever asking if she wanted to talk, not about the move from Virginia or school or sports or relationships or the stress of Sidney’s accident and Kevin’s disappearance. They had just been too busy trying to stay afloat and sane, and the divorce had made them more unapproachable than ever.
As for her siblings, Kevin could barely look her in the eye, and Sidney had always been closer to him. Even Lindsey’s friends were no escape from the tension. They asked simple, surface questions with no real commitment, and moved on after a quick that sucks or your brother’s a douche, just ignore him.
“I-" She swallowed against a suddenly tight throat. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to,” said Laura. “But I’m here, and I have time, if you want to.”
Lindsey snorted. “Probably not enough time for the whole story.”
“One second.” As she sipped her coffee, Laura grasped for her purse and retrieved her iPhone awkwardly with one hand. Searching for the contact she wanted went more smoothly. She smiled at Lindsey as she lifted the phone to her ear. Lindsey leaned her chin on her fist, watching without really focusing on the other girl. “Hey, Brent,” said Laura. “I’m at the coffee shop already. Whenabouts do you think you’re going to get here? Okay, that’s fine. See you then.” She casually dropped her phone back into her bag. “Brent is nowhere near ready and Shannon’s always late. I’ve got at least twenty minutes for you if you want them.”
Lindsey absently nudged her Schmetterling away and angled her face so that she looked at the table and not Laura. “I just really, really hate being at home right now,” she said, so quietly that the older girl had to lean closer to be able to hear. “It’s been really stressful and awkward since-for a long time. Almost since we moved here, and it just got worse and worse. Now it’s unbearable.”
“Unbearable how?”
“I can’t…be around them hardly at all. Mom’s playing the blame game and Dad’s being a passive-aggressive asshole. It makes me not want to be at home. And now Kevin’s trying to bring us all back together or some sappy shit like that and I just…can’t…” Fuck, she mouthed, covering her eyes quickly with the heels of her hands. She hadn’t cried in a long time, not even during the worst of it, and yet trying to talk about it was making her eyes water fast. Do not cry, do not cry, she scolded herself.
“What do you mean by that?” Laura asked, after an uncertain pause.
“He’s been cooking. Wants us to eat dinner together and bond and shit.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Lindsey felt foolish. It sounded so stupid, put like that, but she didn’t know how else to say it. “And I can’t,” she finished, lamely. “I can’t do it.”
A little snort caught her off guard. She looked up to see the tiniest hint of a baffled smile on Laura’s face. “I’m sorry, did you say he was cooking?”
At that, Lindsey cracked a small grin. Hearing it put like that twisted the issue a little bit in her head. “Yeah, he is. I even caught him wearing one of Mom’s aprons the other day.”
Laura slapped a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles. Screw it, Lindsey thought, and gave in to the impulse as well. Hers quickly escalated into undignified snorting and then full-out laughter as she recalled the memory: Kevin, in a pink-flowered apron that barely tied around his athletic frame, wrestling a simple macaroni casserole into their oven. She laid her head on the table and let her mirth go without shame. It felt good to feel something besides pissed off.
“Good grief,” Laura gasped, brushing the corners of her eyes with her pinky. “I can’t believe it. That’s probably about the last thing I’d have expected him to pick up.”
“It’s pretty freaking unbelievable,” Lindsey agreed. For a few reasons, she added silently, suddenly self-conscious about the direction their conversation had gone. Having a gossip session about Kevin with his best friend had not been part of her life’s plan, nice as it was turning out to be.
“I wish he would talk to me about it,” said Laura. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
Lindsey frowned. “I thought he told you everything.”
“Not really. Not right away, anyway. I had no idea things were so tense at your house, even.”
“Good, then he hasn’t tried to pull any crap about how I’m a raging bitch or anything like that.”
Laura’s big blue eyes widened in astonishment. “Kevin would never say that about you.”
“I think you’re confusing me with Sidney,” Lindsey said bitterly.
“No,” Laura insisted, “there are some things you just don’t say about siblings if you love them. I don’t know what he’s thinking, obviously, but I’m pretty sure he’d never actually say that about either of you, and especially not to me, because I’d be scandalized.”
“And tell him not to be such an asshole?” Lindsey could not help a little amusement.
“Not in those words,” Laura said, with a wry and somewhat appalled grimace. “He would congratulate me on using a swear word and then ignore me. But yeah, I’d have a few things to say.”
“That’s nice to know.”
They lapsed into an easy silence. Lindsey reached for her coffee again as she pondered her next move. She did not feel an immediate need to say anything, but had no idea how to continue the conversation when the time came. She felt tempted to just thank Laura for listening, get up, and leave.
And then…what? Go to the library? Bat a couple of rounds? Walk home to yet another awkward family dinner? Talking about her issues made her feel better, but it hadn’t actually changed anything.
“Can I say something?” Laura asked suddenly.
Surprised, Lindsey nodded.
“Obviously, I only know what you’ve told me,” said Laura, “so this is not a judgment on you or Kevin or your parents, and you can ignore me if you like. But…I think family dinners are a good idea. My family wouldn’t be able to get along as well as we do without them-my parents both work, I’m really busy with school and the band, and Chase is always with Carrie. But we sit down together every night and make the time for each other. I’m not saying that it will work for your family,” she added quickly, as Lindsey’s expression flattened out, “but it could. You never know.”
Lindsey pursed her lips, unsure how to respond. Her first instinct was to fling the advice back in Laura’s face with a you have no fucking idea what’s good for my family, and she almost gave in to it. But Laura had already said as much herself. And she meant well, that much was clear. Kevin had often said that Laura was good at helping and tried her best whenever she could. Lindsey was beginning to see why he craved her friendship so much.
She tried to imagine a meal with her mother that wouldn’t end in uncomfortable silences or angry words. It wasn’t easy. And she could forget about her father-almost every other word out of his mouth lately was some snide comment about the way Delia was raising them without him. No amount of effort on her part or cooking on Kevin’s would fix that any time soon.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
Laura nodded once. She seemed vaguely disappointed. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“You…didn’t, really.” Not wanting to explain, Lindsey scooped up what remained of her Schmetterling and rose from the booth. “I’m gonna go. Thanks for listening,” she said, more sincerely this time. “I really appreciate that. It seems like no one wants to, lately.”
“It’s no trouble,” Laura said, with a soft smile. “I’ll be thinking about you guys. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Thanks.” Lindsey gave Laura a rather feeble smile in return, turned on her heel, and jogged out the back door. Batting range next, she thought decisively. The urge to hit things was bubbling up in her stomach and threatening to make her ill.