“All right.” Mom smoothed down the front of her dress. “Just making sure.”
I rolled my eyes. Mom always tiptoed around Sophie. She had forbidden all of us, for example, from referring to the “Milford years”—ever—in Sophie’s presence. Milford was the little town she and Dad and Sophie had lived in before I was born. Apparently, those seven years or so hadn’t been the happiest in our family history. Dad’s law firm hadn’t been doing well and he had been drinking too much, which led to a lot of arguments. Now, twenty years later, Sophie never let a visit slip by without some sort of reference to that time. She just couldn’t let it go—no matter how much Mom and Dad begged her to. It was this insistence of hers—this immaturity, really, to keep punishing Mom and Dad like she did—that made me so wary and resentful of her.
“Why isn’t Goober coming?” Dad asked suddenly.
“Sophie said it was Greg’s weekend, but that she was going to try to get him to switch,” Mom said.
Goober was Sophie’s four-year-old daughter. Her real name was Grace, but Sophie had started calling her Goober in the hospital, and the nickname had stuck.
“I hope she does,” I said. “Sophie always acts more human when Goober’s around.”
“Julia!” Mom turned around, looking disapprovingly at me.
“It’s true!” I said. “And you know it! When Goober’s here, she’s the baby. There’s no room for Sophie to throw one of her temper tantrums.”
Mom glanced over at Dad and then settled back in her seat. “No one will be throwing any temper tantrums,” she said quietly. “It’s going to be wonderful.”
I caught Dad’s eye in the rearview mirror. He winked at me.
“And even if the baby can’t come, it will be so nice just to have the four of us all together again,” Mom said. “I can’t even remember the last time we were under the same roof.”
“Christmas, Arlene,” Dad’s voice sounded far away. “The two of them were just here at Christmas.”
“Actually, it was last Christmas,” I said.
Dad had a way of blocking out a lot of things when it came to Sophie. Time was one of them. I didn’t blame him, though. Sophie put him through a lot of crap whenever she was here. I probably would’ve figured out a way to block it out too.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter…” Mom’s voice drifted off the way it did when she had stopped talking to anyone in particular. She turned around suddenly and put her hand on my knee. “Oh, Julia. We’re just so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“And I know I’ve already said this a million times,” Dad said, looking at me in the rearview mirror again, “but I’m thrilled that you’re going to my alma mater.”
Wellesley had been my first choice for college and I’d been accepted, but the University of Pittsburgh had offered me a full ride. There was no way I was going to put up a fuss about not attending Wellesley, which had only offered partial scholarships and would have required Mom and Dad to pay thousands of extra dollars a year. Especially since after Pittsburgh, there would be law school.
“I know,” I said. “It’s gonna be great.”
Someone in the line of cars began to honk, which sparked a flurry of more honking. I glanced at the digital clock above the radio. Ten thirty-nine. I was supposed to have been in line at ten thirty. The ceremony was going to start at eleven.
“I gotta go,” I grabbed my speech and shoved the door open. “I’ll just walk the rest of the way.”
“In the eyes!” Dad yelled, using one of his attorney mantras. “Remember to look ’em right in the eyes! And don’t let ’em see you sweat!”
I broke into a run as I spotted the line of yellow gowned students ahead.
There was no turning back now.
It was showtime.
chapter
3
I led my class out of the auditorium as the last stomachache strains of the orchestra faded behind us. My speech had been flawless. Not a single uh or um. No unnecessary pauses, no word stumbles. It was like I’d gone on autopilot. From start to finish. The crowd had approved too, cheering wildly when I finished. A few people even jumped up and pumped their fists in the air. One of them had probably been Sophie. I sat back down in my chair on stage, folded my hands, and felt my stomach plummet.
We were graduated. Done with Silver Springs High. Forever.
It was a slightly amazing feeling. I slowed as the foyer came into view, trying to absorb it.
“Jules!”
My heart flopped like a fish as Milo walked up to me. “Hey!”
For a split second, I wondered what he would do if I buried my nose into the front of his gold gown. “Hi,” I said.
“I tried to find you before, to wish you luck,” Milo said, “but I didn’t see you.”
“Oh, I was late. I was kind of hiding from Mrs. Soprano, and then I had to get in line…”
Wait. How were we talking like this all of a sudden? We hadn’t exchanged this many words since…well, since that horrible night at prom.