Page 50 of Every Time We Touch

“Want to? Yes,” I readily admit. “But I don’t think it’s possible.”

“It’s definitely not possible.” Heather steps closer. “You saw Dad in there.” She points at the house. “Did she tell you he went to see her? Begging for another chance?”

“Yeah.” My stomach is a mess. My legs are like jelly. I need to get out of here. I need to run away from my own family. And I have to ask myself whether being with Clancy is worth this. My family will always be my family. My relationship track record is patchy at best, but my family’s always been there.

“Can you even trust her?” Heather says.

That’s not a question I’ve asked myself when it comes to Clancy. We haven’t reached that stage yet. All I know is what I feel—and the strength of it. Hiding from my family has also allowed me to create a fantasy bubble to live in for a while, but that bubble has well and truly burst now.

“I know Dad’s cut up about Clancy,” I say. “But they weren’t all that serious, you know.” Good god. I can barely stand to listen to myself.

“And that matters?” Heather wouldn’t be my twin if she failed to ask the tough questions. “He brought her here, to meet us. That’s a big deal.”

Oh, how I wish he’d never done that. Not that I fell for Clancy there and then, but it instigated everything that came after. Including the tears running down my face right now.

“Hey, girls.” Mom appears in the doorway. “Everything okay here?” She tilts her head. “Jen, darling. What’s the matter?”

“I’ll let Jen tell you all about that.” Heather stomps off. It’s rare that my sister is this angry with me, but I get it. She’s in shock.

“Let’s sit for a minute.” Mom puts a hand on my shoulder and walks us to the patio chairs a few feet away. She produces a tissue from her pocket and hands it to me. “You can tell me anything, Jenny. Are you okay?”

But I can’t tell my mom. Not with my dad inside her house. Or ever. Can I?

“I’m sorry for ruining brunch.”

“I’m really worried now, Jenny. Please, tell me you’re okay.”

She probably thinks there’s something physically wrong with me.

“I’m fine.” I shake my head, contradicting my words. “I want to tell you, Mom, but not here. Not now. It’s complicated, but it’s not health-related. Don’t worry about that.”

“Oh, thank god.” She purses her lips. “Although I figured Heather wouldn’t have stomped off like that if she’d just heard you were sick.” She puts her hand on my arm. “You girls never fall out, that’s what worries me.”

“Heather has every right to be mad at me.” I look at Mom and I want to tell her, because she might be the only person in the world who won’t think less of me for what I did. “Can we talk later? Can you come by my place?”

“Of course.” She gives my arm a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Mom, but I can’t stay. It’s, um…” I bring a hand to my belly. “My stomach’s upset and I can’t eat and…” I can’t be in the same room as my father right now.

“Do you want to go upstairs for a bit? Lie down?”

“No, I need to go.” I can’t go back in there. I’ve never felt like a bigger coward. “I don’t want to say goodbye.” More tears stream down my cheeks. If this is how I feel when facing my family, what I have to do next couldn’t be more obvious. “Could you grab my stuff, please?”

“You want to sneak out?” There’s a hint of disbelief in her tone. “Without saying goodbye to the others?”

I can only nod.

“Okay.” This is why my mother should get all the parent-of-the-year awards, long after her kids have grown—although I hardly feel like a grown-up. I feel like a teenager with a crush on the wrong person. “I’ll tell them to keep it zipped while I’m at it.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“I’ll be right back.” She gets up.

Just before she reaches the door, I say, “Can you please make sure Dad doesn’t come out here?”

She sends me another quizzical look, then nods.

As I wait for my mother to bring out my bag, I feel like the worst person in the whole goddamn world. And I know exactly what I need to do to put a stop to that feeling—although it’s the very last thing I want to do.