Cookies 'n' Cream 5, Rocky Road 29: Advice
Title: Advice
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cookies 'n' cream 5 (catch), rocky road 29 (out in the cold), malt (PFAH: Summer, Gina: a second opinion), caramel.
Word Count: 2600
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Summer and Gina help each other out.
Notes: Altar Boyz! is real. And awesome.
Gina knocked on the door, then shoved her hands deep into her pockets and tried to stay calm. She'd met Ivy's parents before. They liked her and she liked them. There was nothing to be afraid of, really.
Except everything, she thought, and took another deep breath.
The door opened to reveal Ivy's mother, in sweats and a too-big t-shirt, hair in a bun held up by a pencil stabbed through it-- which Gina hadn't thought was actually possible, but then again, this was Ivy's mother. It was the first time Gina had seen Gail Hirschfeld anything other than impeccably dressed, and she had to make a real effort not to stare.
"Gina," Gail said, sounding surprised. "Hello. Ivy's not here."
"Oh, I know," Gina said, and tried to hide the way her stomach sank at the thought of the reason for that knowledge. "I actually... I was hoping I could talk to Summer, if she's in."
Gail hesitated a moment, then said, "Of course," and drew the door open wider. "She's in her room. Just follow the Altar Boyz!"
Altar boys? What did altar boys have to do with anything? Gina did not ask, and stepped inside.
Altar Boyz!, as it transpired, was spelled with a z and an exclamation point, and was in fact a musical. Or so Gina assumed, since there was a poster on Summer's door and someone was singing about Jesus calling them on their cell phone. As far as she knew no actual Christian rock had gotten that ridiculous.
Yet.
Definitely time to not ask. Gina raised a hand, hesitated, then knocked gently on Summer's half-open door.
"Come in!" Summer called, from her cross-legged seat on her bed. She had a sketchpad balanced across her knees, but nothing drawn on it as yet.
Gina pushed the door further open and slunk sheepishly into the room. "Hi, Summer."
"Hi," Summer said, sounding surprised. "Ivy isn't here."
"I know," Gina said, again. "I wanted to talk to you, actually. Can I sit down?"
"May I," Summer said, sounding even more surprised. "Sure. Um, you can have the desk chair if you want. Talk to me about what?"
Gina, who didn't want to answer that question just yet, busied herself pulling the desk chair out and arranging it to her satisfaction-- not full-on facing Summer, because Summer sometimes got uncomfortable when she had people staring at her, but not facing away from her either-- before she sat down. She smoothed her skirt down over her legs, swallowed, and finally said, "Ivy and I had a fight."
Summer blinked. "Oh," she said, cautiously. "I'm sorry. May I ask what about?"
"Me," Gina said, and decided that wasn't quite accurate. "Sort of. My parents, more. I'm not out to my family, and Ivy thinks I should be." That was the closest she could get, she decided. As close as Summer would understand.
"Oh," Summer said, again. "Why not?" She paused a moment, searching Gina's face, and then added, "Was that rude? I didn't mean to be rude. I'm sorry if I was."
"No," Gina said, wondering what her expression had looked like. "No, it's a perfectly valid question. I'm not ready to tell them just yet."
Summer, unlike Ivy, accepted this at face value to Gina's considerable relief. "Why did you and Ivy fight about that?" she asked, tilting her head to one side, the way she did when she didn't quite understand something but was trying with all her might.
Gina bit back a smile at the earnest expression at Summer's face. "She heard me talking to them, telling them about her but talking about her like she was just a friend. She thinks..." Gina paused. "She thinks I'm afraid," she said, finally. "She thinks I'm too afraid to tell my parents the truth."
Summer tipped her head to the side. "Are you? Afraid?"
"Maybe."
"Why?" Summer asked.
God. Out of the mouths of babes. "I don't know, Summer," she said.
"Okay," Summer said, and wrinkled her nose in thought for a moment. "What are you afraid of?"
My parents. Their reaction. Gina sighed, and leaned her head in her hand. "I... do you remember when your sister came out?"
Summer didn't bat an eye at the subject change. The benefits of talking to someone with Asperger's. "Yes, a little," she said. "Ivy said she was gay, and she told me what that meant, and that it was okay." She shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal."
"No," Gina said. "It wasn't. For your sister. For me... my parents are Catholic, Summer. Everyone I know at home is Catholic. I came out to two people in high school, and they haven't spoken to me since." She rubbed a hand across her forehead. "I want to keep talking to my parents."
Summer shrugged again, and doodled a squiggle on her sketchpad. "I wouldn't want to lie to my parents," she said. Gina drew a breath, startled, before Summer added, "Mama always knows when I lie, anyway. Would it really be that bad?"
"I don't know," Gina said, helplessly. "I don't... know. I love Ivy. I don't want to lose her. But I don't want to lose my parents either."
Summer thought about that for a while, too. "Okay," she said, slowly. "You know if you... if your parents don't want you anymore you can share ours. Mama and Papa love you."
This was news to Gina, who blushed. "What, really?"
"Uh-huh," Summer said, and bent her head, doodling more squiggles. "'Cause you make Ivy not try and run headfirst into things. Ivy's really bad about thinking before she does things and you make her think. That's what Mama said."
It was true, though Gina hadn't realized it before. She hadn't ever really thought about her relationship with Ivy in terms of what she brought to it, before. "I... see."
"So it wouldn't be too bad," Summer said. Gina felt her expression freeze, but before she could say anything, Summer added, anxiously, "I didn't mean that. I mean... it would be bad, but everything wouldn't be bad. You could still have a mama and a papa, even though they weren't yours at the start."
"It wouldn't be the same," Gina said. "It wouldn't be at all the same. You wouldn't want to not ever speak to your parents again."
"Nooo," Summer said, slowly, doubtfully. "But Mama and Papa wouldn't be like that. They love me. Don't your parents love you?"
That, at least, was automatic. "Yes, they do. But... Summer, there are some things your parents can't forgive."
Summer sat bolt upright suddenly, her small mouth tight and her eyes glittering. "They'd say Ivy is bad? Ivy's not bad! Ivy's wonderful!"
Good God. What had she said? "Yes, she is," Gina said. "Ivy's fantastic. And it isn't that she's bad or that I'm ashamed of her. I'm not, she isn't. I just..." She trailed off, no longer sure how to put it.
Summer subsided, but watched her for a long moment before she spoke at last. "What about you?"
Gina blinked. "What about me what?"
"You said," Summer said, very slowly, "that you're not ashamed of Ivy, and that's good. You shouldn't be ashamed of people you love. But what about you? Are you ashamed of you?"
"I..." She faltered again. Was she ashamed of herself? Of this? She loved Ivy desperately, loved her friends and her new family and everything about her life. But...
"I don't know," she said, at last, and got up. "I'll have to think about that. Thank you."
Summer looked as if she wasn't sure what had just happened, but she nodded, cautiously. "Of course. Um, Gina?"
Gina paused. "Yes?"
"Why did you come and ask me?"
She smiled. It took an effort, but it was a natural smile. "Because you're the smartest person I know," she said. "And you know your sister really well, better than anyone except Aaron." And Aaron, being a passing-for-straight man who didn't particularly care who you slept with or understand why anyone else did, wouldn't understand this particular problem. "I thought you could help, and you did."
"Yes," she said. "But I'm not good with people. Not like you," she added, shyly. "People don't like me like they like you."
Oh, sweetheart. Gina's heart broke a little. "Summer," she said, "if someone doesn't like you, then they're probably not worth knowing."
--
If someone doesn't like you, then they're not worth knowing.
The problem, Summer decided, was that this wasn't true, or at least not all of the time. It had helped a lot in grad school, when people had said nasty things about her because she got better grades than them or because she wouldn't sleep with them (Ivy had warned her about that part). But it didn't help when the person really was worth knowing and just... didn't like her. At all.
She played with her phone, flipping it open and shut mechanically as she thought. She needed to talk to someone, desperately, but...
Well, Mama would just say the same thing that she always did, which was something along the lines of 'you're my beautiful, wonderful daughter, and anyone who can't see that is missing out.' Reassuring, but not helpful in this case. Ivy would offer to punch him, which was also not helpful. Aaron... she didn't know what he'd say, but it didn't matter because he and Clara were on vacation and unreachable.
Summer flipped her phone open again and hit speed-dial, number 3. She'd always known who she was going to talk to. It just helped, being methodical.
"Hello," Ivy sang into the phone, after the click on the line that meant someone had picked up. "You've reached us! How can I help you?"
"Hello, Ivy," Summer said, shifting the phone against her ear. "You sound happy." At least she could pretty reliably guess her family's moods. She felt less out of place already.
"Hi, sweetie. Yeah, it was a good day. I saved a cat's leg and the rescue guys placed three of the older dogs. What's up with you?"
"That's wonderful about the animals," Summer said. "I need to talk to Gina. Is she there?"
"Ah," Ivy said. "Boy trouble? Hang on, I'll get her. Unless you'd like a masculine point of view? Andy's closer."
Summer thought about that for a moment, to be polite. "No, I don't think so," she said, at last, at around the same time that Andy yelped "Mom!" in the background.
"Andy's not too hot on the idea either," Ivy said. "Oh, hey, babe, Summer wants to talk to you."
Summer heard muffled voices, then the phone passed over and Gina said, sounding confused, "Hello, Summer."
"Hello," Summer said. "I need some advice."
"Ah," Gina said. "Hang on a moment." She said something to the others-- Ivy said something back, then Andy's tenor broke in. The voices continued in the background until they were abruptly shut off by the sound of a door closing. "Okay," Gina said. "Shoot."
That meant go ahead, Summer translated mentally, and said, "There's this guy. His name is Felipe, he's very nice, and he likes me a lot."
"Well, that's good," Gina said, the confused sound back in her voice. "Is something wrong?"
"I really like him, Gina," Summer said, and squeezed her knees up against her chest, where she felt a little bit hollow. "He's funny and he's nice to me, and he ignores it when I mess up. But that's all. I just like him. I don't want anything else." Not that she knew if Felipe did, either. Maybe she was making it all up in her head. But Gina wouldn't say that.
Gina didn't say that. What Gina said was, "Then tell him that. Sweetie, if you don't want to be with him, don't. No one will make you. And if he's as good a guy as you said, then he'll understand. Now what's the other thing?"
"His partner," Summer said, feeling even more miserable. "Zachary Ryan. He hates me."
Gina made a tsking noise. "Jerk."
"Except he isn't," Summer wailed. "He's wonderful. I think if he would just like me then I would really like him, but I don't know how to make him like me! How do you make somebody like you?"
"Oh, sweetheart," Gina said, and she sounded a little like she wanted to cry. "You can't make somebody like you."
"Everybody likes you," Summer pointed out, very logically, she thought. "So you must know how to make people like you."
"I'm afraid I don't," Gina said. "Summer, love, are you sure that he hates you?"
"He thinks I'm a bitch," Summer said, miserably. "And maybe an alien."
There was a brief silence on the other end, then Gina asked, carefully, "An alien?"
Summer shrugged, then remembered Gina couldn't see it. "One of the other girls said that," she said. "One of the receptionists. They like to gossip, and sometimes they don't know I can hear them."
"Because you don't make noise when you move," Gina said. "You might want to work on that."
That made Summer smile, at last. "But what if I like eavesdropping? I learn so many interesting things that way."
"Hmm," Gina said, laughter in the sound. "As long as you understand the risks."
Summer giggled a little, then sobered. "I do." She picked at the fabric of her pants. "What do I do, Gina?"
"Well," Gina said. She said that, Summer had learned, when she didn't know what to say. "Well. You could try talking to this Felipe. You just said he likes you. Maybe he can read his partner the riot act."
"I don't want him to be nice to me because he has to be," Summer said, feeling vaguely outraged at the very thought. "I want him to be nice to me because he wants to be nice to me."
"Then..." Gina trailed off for a moment. "Then the only thing I can think of is for you to be nice to him. People usually respond well to that. And if he doesn't, well, some people you can't change, sweetheart. I'm sorry."
"But there are rules," Summer said, almost pleaded. "There are rules for this, aren't there? I just want to know the rules."
Gina sighed. "People don't come with a rulebook, love. Heaven knows I've wished that Ivy did, sometimes-- remember that huge fight we had, back when I was still in the closet to my parents? Or the one right before we got married? If I'd had a rulebook I could have avoided all that."
"But Ivy I understand," Summer said, plaintive. "I don't need rules for Ivy."
"No," Gina said, softly. "All right. Rule number one: if he's cruel to you, then you don't need him. You don't need people being cruel to you, no matter how much you think you would like them if they wouldn't be that way. Rule number two: if you're nice to him and he's still cruel to you, you really don't need him. Rule number three: you probably should give it some time, but no more than about a month. If it doesn't get better after that, it probably won't. Does that help?"
Summer thought it was a little negative, but it did, a bit. "Yes," she said. "Do you think he'll like me, then?"
"Summer," Gina said, and for once Summer could hear the sincerity, "I don't see how anyone could not."
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Cookies 'n' cream 5 (catch), rocky road 29 (out in the cold), malt (PFAH: Summer, Gina: a second opinion), caramel.
Word Count: 2600
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Summer and Gina help each other out.
Notes: Altar Boyz! is real. And awesome.
Gina knocked on the door, then shoved her hands deep into her pockets and tried to stay calm. She'd met Ivy's parents before. They liked her and she liked them. There was nothing to be afraid of, really.
Except everything, she thought, and took another deep breath.
The door opened to reveal Ivy's mother, in sweats and a too-big t-shirt, hair in a bun held up by a pencil stabbed through it-- which Gina hadn't thought was actually possible, but then again, this was Ivy's mother. It was the first time Gina had seen Gail Hirschfeld anything other than impeccably dressed, and she had to make a real effort not to stare.
"Gina," Gail said, sounding surprised. "Hello. Ivy's not here."
"Oh, I know," Gina said, and tried to hide the way her stomach sank at the thought of the reason for that knowledge. "I actually... I was hoping I could talk to Summer, if she's in."
Gail hesitated a moment, then said, "Of course," and drew the door open wider. "She's in her room. Just follow the Altar Boyz!"
Altar boys? What did altar boys have to do with anything? Gina did not ask, and stepped inside.
Altar Boyz!, as it transpired, was spelled with a z and an exclamation point, and was in fact a musical. Or so Gina assumed, since there was a poster on Summer's door and someone was singing about Jesus calling them on their cell phone. As far as she knew no actual Christian rock had gotten that ridiculous.
Yet.
Definitely time to not ask. Gina raised a hand, hesitated, then knocked gently on Summer's half-open door.
"Come in!" Summer called, from her cross-legged seat on her bed. She had a sketchpad balanced across her knees, but nothing drawn on it as yet.
Gina pushed the door further open and slunk sheepishly into the room. "Hi, Summer."
"Hi," Summer said, sounding surprised. "Ivy isn't here."
"I know," Gina said, again. "I wanted to talk to you, actually. Can I sit down?"
"May I," Summer said, sounding even more surprised. "Sure. Um, you can have the desk chair if you want. Talk to me about what?"
Gina, who didn't want to answer that question just yet, busied herself pulling the desk chair out and arranging it to her satisfaction-- not full-on facing Summer, because Summer sometimes got uncomfortable when she had people staring at her, but not facing away from her either-- before she sat down. She smoothed her skirt down over her legs, swallowed, and finally said, "Ivy and I had a fight."
Summer blinked. "Oh," she said, cautiously. "I'm sorry. May I ask what about?"
"Me," Gina said, and decided that wasn't quite accurate. "Sort of. My parents, more. I'm not out to my family, and Ivy thinks I should be." That was the closest she could get, she decided. As close as Summer would understand.
"Oh," Summer said, again. "Why not?" She paused a moment, searching Gina's face, and then added, "Was that rude? I didn't mean to be rude. I'm sorry if I was."
"No," Gina said, wondering what her expression had looked like. "No, it's a perfectly valid question. I'm not ready to tell them just yet."
Summer, unlike Ivy, accepted this at face value to Gina's considerable relief. "Why did you and Ivy fight about that?" she asked, tilting her head to one side, the way she did when she didn't quite understand something but was trying with all her might.
Gina bit back a smile at the earnest expression at Summer's face. "She heard me talking to them, telling them about her but talking about her like she was just a friend. She thinks..." Gina paused. "She thinks I'm afraid," she said, finally. "She thinks I'm too afraid to tell my parents the truth."
Summer tipped her head to the side. "Are you? Afraid?"
"Maybe."
"Why?" Summer asked.
God. Out of the mouths of babes. "I don't know, Summer," she said.
"Okay," Summer said, and wrinkled her nose in thought for a moment. "What are you afraid of?"
My parents. Their reaction. Gina sighed, and leaned her head in her hand. "I... do you remember when your sister came out?"
Summer didn't bat an eye at the subject change. The benefits of talking to someone with Asperger's. "Yes, a little," she said. "Ivy said she was gay, and she told me what that meant, and that it was okay." She shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal."
"No," Gina said. "It wasn't. For your sister. For me... my parents are Catholic, Summer. Everyone I know at home is Catholic. I came out to two people in high school, and they haven't spoken to me since." She rubbed a hand across her forehead. "I want to keep talking to my parents."
Summer shrugged again, and doodled a squiggle on her sketchpad. "I wouldn't want to lie to my parents," she said. Gina drew a breath, startled, before Summer added, "Mama always knows when I lie, anyway. Would it really be that bad?"
"I don't know," Gina said, helplessly. "I don't... know. I love Ivy. I don't want to lose her. But I don't want to lose my parents either."
Summer thought about that for a while, too. "Okay," she said, slowly. "You know if you... if your parents don't want you anymore you can share ours. Mama and Papa love you."
This was news to Gina, who blushed. "What, really?"
"Uh-huh," Summer said, and bent her head, doodling more squiggles. "'Cause you make Ivy not try and run headfirst into things. Ivy's really bad about thinking before she does things and you make her think. That's what Mama said."
It was true, though Gina hadn't realized it before. She hadn't ever really thought about her relationship with Ivy in terms of what she brought to it, before. "I... see."
"So it wouldn't be too bad," Summer said. Gina felt her expression freeze, but before she could say anything, Summer added, anxiously, "I didn't mean that. I mean... it would be bad, but everything wouldn't be bad. You could still have a mama and a papa, even though they weren't yours at the start."
"It wouldn't be the same," Gina said. "It wouldn't be at all the same. You wouldn't want to not ever speak to your parents again."
"Nooo," Summer said, slowly, doubtfully. "But Mama and Papa wouldn't be like that. They love me. Don't your parents love you?"
That, at least, was automatic. "Yes, they do. But... Summer, there are some things your parents can't forgive."
Summer sat bolt upright suddenly, her small mouth tight and her eyes glittering. "They'd say Ivy is bad? Ivy's not bad! Ivy's wonderful!"
Good God. What had she said? "Yes, she is," Gina said. "Ivy's fantastic. And it isn't that she's bad or that I'm ashamed of her. I'm not, she isn't. I just..." She trailed off, no longer sure how to put it.
Summer subsided, but watched her for a long moment before she spoke at last. "What about you?"
Gina blinked. "What about me what?"
"You said," Summer said, very slowly, "that you're not ashamed of Ivy, and that's good. You shouldn't be ashamed of people you love. But what about you? Are you ashamed of you?"
"I..." She faltered again. Was she ashamed of herself? Of this? She loved Ivy desperately, loved her friends and her new family and everything about her life. But...
"I don't know," she said, at last, and got up. "I'll have to think about that. Thank you."
Summer looked as if she wasn't sure what had just happened, but she nodded, cautiously. "Of course. Um, Gina?"
Gina paused. "Yes?"
"Why did you come and ask me?"
She smiled. It took an effort, but it was a natural smile. "Because you're the smartest person I know," she said. "And you know your sister really well, better than anyone except Aaron." And Aaron, being a passing-for-straight man who didn't particularly care who you slept with or understand why anyone else did, wouldn't understand this particular problem. "I thought you could help, and you did."
"Yes," she said. "But I'm not good with people. Not like you," she added, shyly. "People don't like me like they like you."
Oh, sweetheart. Gina's heart broke a little. "Summer," she said, "if someone doesn't like you, then they're probably not worth knowing."
--
If someone doesn't like you, then they're not worth knowing.
The problem, Summer decided, was that this wasn't true, or at least not all of the time. It had helped a lot in grad school, when people had said nasty things about her because she got better grades than them or because she wouldn't sleep with them (Ivy had warned her about that part). But it didn't help when the person really was worth knowing and just... didn't like her. At all.
She played with her phone, flipping it open and shut mechanically as she thought. She needed to talk to someone, desperately, but...
Well, Mama would just say the same thing that she always did, which was something along the lines of 'you're my beautiful, wonderful daughter, and anyone who can't see that is missing out.' Reassuring, but not helpful in this case. Ivy would offer to punch him, which was also not helpful. Aaron... she didn't know what he'd say, but it didn't matter because he and Clara were on vacation and unreachable.
Summer flipped her phone open again and hit speed-dial, number 3. She'd always known who she was going to talk to. It just helped, being methodical.
"Hello," Ivy sang into the phone, after the click on the line that meant someone had picked up. "You've reached us! How can I help you?"
"Hello, Ivy," Summer said, shifting the phone against her ear. "You sound happy." At least she could pretty reliably guess her family's moods. She felt less out of place already.
"Hi, sweetie. Yeah, it was a good day. I saved a cat's leg and the rescue guys placed three of the older dogs. What's up with you?"
"That's wonderful about the animals," Summer said. "I need to talk to Gina. Is she there?"
"Ah," Ivy said. "Boy trouble? Hang on, I'll get her. Unless you'd like a masculine point of view? Andy's closer."
Summer thought about that for a moment, to be polite. "No, I don't think so," she said, at last, at around the same time that Andy yelped "Mom!" in the background.
"Andy's not too hot on the idea either," Ivy said. "Oh, hey, babe, Summer wants to talk to you."
Summer heard muffled voices, then the phone passed over and Gina said, sounding confused, "Hello, Summer."
"Hello," Summer said. "I need some advice."
"Ah," Gina said. "Hang on a moment." She said something to the others-- Ivy said something back, then Andy's tenor broke in. The voices continued in the background until they were abruptly shut off by the sound of a door closing. "Okay," Gina said. "Shoot."
That meant go ahead, Summer translated mentally, and said, "There's this guy. His name is Felipe, he's very nice, and he likes me a lot."
"Well, that's good," Gina said, the confused sound back in her voice. "Is something wrong?"
"I really like him, Gina," Summer said, and squeezed her knees up against her chest, where she felt a little bit hollow. "He's funny and he's nice to me, and he ignores it when I mess up. But that's all. I just like him. I don't want anything else." Not that she knew if Felipe did, either. Maybe she was making it all up in her head. But Gina wouldn't say that.
Gina didn't say that. What Gina said was, "Then tell him that. Sweetie, if you don't want to be with him, don't. No one will make you. And if he's as good a guy as you said, then he'll understand. Now what's the other thing?"
"His partner," Summer said, feeling even more miserable. "Zachary Ryan. He hates me."
Gina made a tsking noise. "Jerk."
"Except he isn't," Summer wailed. "He's wonderful. I think if he would just like me then I would really like him, but I don't know how to make him like me! How do you make somebody like you?"
"Oh, sweetheart," Gina said, and she sounded a little like she wanted to cry. "You can't make somebody like you."
"Everybody likes you," Summer pointed out, very logically, she thought. "So you must know how to make people like you."
"I'm afraid I don't," Gina said. "Summer, love, are you sure that he hates you?"
"He thinks I'm a bitch," Summer said, miserably. "And maybe an alien."
There was a brief silence on the other end, then Gina asked, carefully, "An alien?"
Summer shrugged, then remembered Gina couldn't see it. "One of the other girls said that," she said. "One of the receptionists. They like to gossip, and sometimes they don't know I can hear them."
"Because you don't make noise when you move," Gina said. "You might want to work on that."
That made Summer smile, at last. "But what if I like eavesdropping? I learn so many interesting things that way."
"Hmm," Gina said, laughter in the sound. "As long as you understand the risks."
Summer giggled a little, then sobered. "I do." She picked at the fabric of her pants. "What do I do, Gina?"
"Well," Gina said. She said that, Summer had learned, when she didn't know what to say. "Well. You could try talking to this Felipe. You just said he likes you. Maybe he can read his partner the riot act."
"I don't want him to be nice to me because he has to be," Summer said, feeling vaguely outraged at the very thought. "I want him to be nice to me because he wants to be nice to me."
"Then..." Gina trailed off for a moment. "Then the only thing I can think of is for you to be nice to him. People usually respond well to that. And if he doesn't, well, some people you can't change, sweetheart. I'm sorry."
"But there are rules," Summer said, almost pleaded. "There are rules for this, aren't there? I just want to know the rules."
Gina sighed. "People don't come with a rulebook, love. Heaven knows I've wished that Ivy did, sometimes-- remember that huge fight we had, back when I was still in the closet to my parents? Or the one right before we got married? If I'd had a rulebook I could have avoided all that."
"But Ivy I understand," Summer said, plaintive. "I don't need rules for Ivy."
"No," Gina said, softly. "All right. Rule number one: if he's cruel to you, then you don't need him. You don't need people being cruel to you, no matter how much you think you would like them if they wouldn't be that way. Rule number two: if you're nice to him and he's still cruel to you, you really don't need him. Rule number three: you probably should give it some time, but no more than about a month. If it doesn't get better after that, it probably won't. Does that help?"
Summer thought it was a little negative, but it did, a bit. "Yes," she said. "Do you think he'll like me, then?"
"Summer," Gina said, and for once Summer could hear the sincerity, "I don't see how anyone could not."