The Rules of You and Me (19 page)

“
Only good things,” I promised as he bounded down the steps. I stood there until he climbed into his truck. He started the ignition, waving to me as he backed out of the driveway. I watched until he disappeared over the hill.

#

Aunt Lydia was silent as I closed and locked the door behind me. She sat on the arm of the couch, watching as I moved across the room. Finally, I crossed my arms and sighed.

“
Say it,” I said.

She gave me an innocent look. “Say what?”

“
Whatever it is you’re dying to say.”

Aunt Lydia pressed her lips together, then said, “I know you say that you and Jude are just friends—”

“
Because we are,” I interrupted.

“
I just want you to know that if you wanted something more with Jude, it wouldn’t be so terrible,” Aunt Lydia said.

I raised my eyebrows. “I seem to recall you saying not too long ago that he might be a bad influence on me.”

“
Well,” Aunt Lydia said, “maybe I misjudged him. I don’t know Jude very well, I really only know what I’ve heard from other people. But sometimes the things people think they know about a person aren’t the whole truth.” She stood and walked toward me, putting her hands on my shoulders. “Like you.”

“
Me?” I asked.

“
People think they see this intelligent, driven girl. And you are those things. But while they might see someone who’s perfect and has it all together and too tough to let anything stop her, I know the truth.”

I swallowed. “Which is?”

Aunt Lydia kissed my forehead. “You’re softer than you let anyone see. And you bruise just as easily as the rest of us.”

I blinked quickly through the blur in my eyes.

“
Anyway,” Aunt Lydia said, “I think I’ll go to bed early. I’m pretty tired. Jude is certainly a stimulating dinner guest.” She grinned and gave me a wink.

“
So let me get this straight,” I said as she started toward the hall. “You’ve changed your mind about him?”

Aunt Lydia stopped and nodded. “I was wrong to judge him without knowing him. Maybe he’s made mistakes, but maybe he’s trying to make up for them now. He doesn’t seem as bad as I was led to believe.”

“
So you’re giving me permission to go out with him?”

Aunt Lydia’s mouth curled into a half-smile. “Does that mean you
want
to go out with him?”

“
No!” Heat flushed up my neck. At the moment, I really had no idea what I wanted. “This is all hypothetical. We’re
friends
.”

“
Okay,” Aunt Lydia said with a small shrug. “If that’s what you say.”

“
Because it’s the truth!” I shouted as she disappeared down the hall.

I opened my eyes and found myself nose-to-nose with a white horse.

I blinked. No, not a horse. A unicorn. A very large, very white unicorn with a silver horn protruding from its head.

“
Happy birthday!” the unicorn shouted, in Aunt Lydia’s voice.

Pushing my hair out of my face, I sat up and regarded the giant stuffed unicorn. “Please tell me you haven’t lost your mind,” I said.

Aunt Lydia put the unicorn down between us and huffed in frustration. “Have you forgotten?”

“
Obviously,” I said as I rubbed sleep out of my eyes. A check of the clock told me it was ten minutes to eight.

“
Every year on your birthday, you used to tell me you wished for a unicorn,” Aunt Lydia said. “You always made up stories about the adventures you two would have.” She shook the stuffed animal at me. “So, I bought you a unicorn!”

“
That was when I was seven,” I said. How had she remembered that?

Aunt Lydia shrugged. “Better late than never, right?” She reached for something on the bed behind her and then presented me with a cupcake, topped with pillowy yellow frosting and red sprinkles. “And a cupcake for the birthday girl,” she said.

I smiled as I took the cupcake. “Thank you.”

Aunt Lydia kissed my forehead. “No problem.” She sat back, looking at me with a soft smile on her face. “I’m really glad you came here this summer, Hannah. It’s been a long time since we had a chance to hang out like we used to.”

I swirled a finger around the edge of the cupcake, scooping up some frosting. “I’m glad I came too.”

Aunt Lydia patted my knee. “Go on and eat that, then get dressed. We’re going out for a big birthday breakfast.” She tugged on a strand of my hair. “Those streaks really do look good, by the way.”

I grinned. “You already told me that.”

“
Just wanted to say it again.” Aunt Lydia bounced to her feet and then walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

It was too early for cake, but it was my birthday so I had the right to break all the rules. I ate the cupcake, brushing crumbs off the bed, and then got up to get dressed. I stopped in front of the mirror and studied my reflection. Seventeen. I still looked mostly like the same Hannah, except for the addition of two bright red stripes in my dark hair, framing each side of my face.

But inside, I already felt like something had changed. I wasn’t the same Hannah that had come here a month ago. Mark was right. I could be anyone I wanted to be and not just the person I thought I should be. I had held myself back for too long.

After I was dressed, I picked up my phone and checked the screen. No messages. No calls.

I held the phone in my hand for a moment, staring at it until the screen went black from no activity. Then I pushed it into my pocket and went to find Aunt Lydia.

We drove to Papa Gino’s and I gave Aunt Lydia a dubious look as she parked the car. We were the only ones in the parking lot.

“
Italian for breakfast?” I asked.

“
Italians eat breakfast too,” she said.

“
I don’t think I can handle lasagna at eight A.M.”

“
It won’t be lasagna,” she promised as she got out of the car.

Mama Rita met us at the door. “Welcome!” she shouted, throwing her arms wide. She hugged Aunt Lydia and then me, nearly squeezing the breath out of me. “Happy birthday,
Coccolona
!”

Coccolona
? I raised my eyebrows at Aunt Lydia over Mama Rita’s shoulder.

“
This way, this way,” Mama Rita said when she let me go. “We have breakfast all ready for you.”

As we followed Mama Rita to the table already set and decorated with bright red balloons and streamers, Aunt Lydia leaned toward me and whispered, “You should feel honored. Mama Rita gave you a pet name.”

“
Coccolona
?” I asked.

“
It means cuddly one,” Aunt Lydia said. “That’s better than the one she gave me.
Capretta
means little goat.”

We sat down and Mama Rita poured us both cups of coffee and glasses of orange juice. “Breakfast will be right out,” she told us. She beamed down at me. “Seventeen! How I remember those days. Enjoy it,
Coccolona
, it passes too quickly. One day, you look in the mirror and you see an old woman staring back at you.” She patted her gray hair, frowning. “Anyway, breakfast! I’ll be back.”

Mama Rita disappeared into the kitchen and I reached for the creamer to stir into my coffee.

“
Has your mom or dad called yet?” Aunt Lydia asked.

I shook my head, not looking up from my coffee cup. “Not yet.”

“
I’m sure they will,” she said.

I shrugged, but didn’t say anything.

Aunt Lydia cleared her throat. “Well, while we have a moment to ourselves, I wanted to give you your birthday gift.”

“
The unicorn wasn’t my gift?” I asked.

Aunt Lydia laughed. “That was just a silly joke.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small red box. “This is your real gift.”

I took the box. “Thank you,” I said. “You didn’t have to—”

“
I wanted to,” Aunt Lydia interrupted me. “Go ahead. Open it.” She looked as eager as a child on Christmas, but her smile showed nervousness.

The box creaked a little when I opened it. Inside, nestled on a white satin pillow, was a tiny gold wishbone charm attached to a delicate chain.

“
It’s not much,” Aunt Lydia said. “I know you probably have all kinds of nice jewelry at home—”

“
It’s perfect,” I told her. “Thank you.”

I took the necklace from the box and hooked it around my neck. The wishbone caught the light where it rested against my skin.

“
I wanted to give you a reminder,” Aunt Lydia said, “to never stop wishing. Your parents have their wishes for you, and I have mine, but what matters most is what you wish for yourself.”

I smiled at her across the table. I felt like I had the old Aunt Lydia back, the one who used to play games with me and tell me silly stories and who never once laughed at any of my ideas or told me it wasn’t something I should do.

The kitchen door burst open and Mama Rita returned, with Papa Gino following behind. He carried a big plate piled high with pancakes. Candles perched crookedly in the pancakes, their lights fluttering as Papa Gino and Mama Rita sang “Happy birthday” at the top of their lungs.

#

I closed the door to my room at Aunt Lydia’s house and checked my phone again. Natalie hadn’t texted me, but we hadn’t spoken since our argument. And there had still been nothing from Mom or Dad.

Dad, I could understand. Maybe he was busy doing therapy or whatever it was he did in rehab. Whenever I tried to imagine life inside Keller-Burns Rehabilitation Center, I imagined strung out people rocking back and forth in corners or spasming from withdrawal. It was probably easy to lose track of time in a place like that.

But Mom had no excuse. She was on
vacation
in Paris. She had her phone, she never went anywhere without it. She couldn’t take two seconds out of her busy day of spa trips and French food to remember the child she gave birth to?

I wouldn’t let it bother me. Not today. My friends were throwing a birthday party for me later that day. I was already worried enough about having Jude and Carter together in the same room again. I didn’t need to stress myself out over my mother’s carelessness.

I stopped, realizing I was pacing the room. I knew I wouldn’t be able to forget it until I talked to her.

The phone rang as I waited for her to pick up. It was still mid-afternoon in Paris, so she should be awake.

Finally, the ringing stopped. “Hello?” Mom’s voice trilled into the phone.

I clenched my fist. “Hi, Mom.”

“
Oh, Hannah!” She giggled. “I was jus’ telling Jean and Pierre abouchoo. How you’re goin’ to Yale in a year. Yesss, that’s right!” she said to someone else. A distinctly male voice spoke in the background. “A lawyer. My daughter’ll be the best damn lawyer in the country!”

“
Who is that?” I asked. “Who’s with you?”

“
Tess,” Mom said. She giggled. “And Jean and Pierre.”

“
And who exactly are Jean and Pierre?”

Mom laughed. “Friends, Hannah. We go way back.”

How far back, exactly? I thought about the trips I’d taken with Mom to Paris, and the number of times we’d each ended up doing our own thing. Had she been spending that time meeting with French men?

“
Are you having an affair?” I shrieked. I remembered Aunt Lydia was just upstairs in the attic and tried to keep my voice down.

“
What do you think I am?” Mom asked. Her words slurred and tumbled into each other. “What kind of woman do you take me for?”

“
You’re drunk,” I said. “With strange men. Where are you, in your hotel room?”

“
We’re in my suite, yes,” Mom snapped. “Having croissants and wine.”

“
More wine!” I heard Tess shout in the background.

“
More wine!” Mom echoed, then exploded into her usual high-pitched, drunken laughter.

A lump formed in my throat. “Great, Mom.”

“
What’s gotten into you?” she asked.

“
Nothing,” I said. “Have fun with your affair and your drinks and whatever the hell you’re doing over there.”

“
Don’t you speak to me in that language, Hannah,” Mom snapped. “I am on vacation and after what I’ve been through, I deserve the chance to relax and have some fun.”

“
What
you’ve
been through?” My voice was growing louder, but I couldn’t hold it back. “What about what I’ve been through? What about the fact that it’s my birthday and my own
mother
doesn’t care enough to call?”

“
I’ll call when you can speak to me with respect,” Mom said.

I laughed. “Don’t hold your—”

There was a beep and then the noise on the other end went silent. I pulled the phone from my ear and stared at it.

I could tell myself that there was a bad connection. That the mountains interfered with calls and made them drop easily. I could tell myself that Mom’s connection was never reliable overseas.