Chapter Twelve

LARA

I take a few bites of my salad, drink a few sips of water and coffee. I knew that this meeting was going to be hard, but the hardest part of this has been the fact that I actually feel almost friendly to Ethan. I tell myself that it’s because he is hurting, but we were polite yet cold the few times we saw one another after the breakup and before I learned that he was with my sister. Fundamentally, he was a good guy who just make some questionable choices. I don’t know how to deal with that.

“Is there anything you can think of that I’d need to keep around the apartment for her?” I can barely even look at Ethan. I’m torn between trying to understand why I feel like being friendly to him, and the reminder of why I shouldn’t feel friendly at all. It’s stupid, and I know it. I shouldn’t be so mixed up. I shouldn’t be so confused, but I just have to deal with it.

“Well, you’ll have her diaper bag and all that,” Ethan says.

“She… obviously she isn’t getting milk anymore,” I say. “Or did you switch to formula or something?” I knew that Alexis had been supplementing Riley’s normal food with breast milk she pumped, but obviously without my sister there was no source for that anymore.

“I figured it was kind of… as good a time as any to completely wean her,” Ethan says.

I nod.

“She’s eighteen months or close enough,” I agree.

“She still asks for Alexis sometimes, but not as much,” Ethan tells me. I think I hear his voice crack a little. I look up and he shakes his head and blows slowly through his mouth.

I’m not sure if I’m more relieved for his sake, or saddened by the fact that he has to be thinking that Riley’s forgotten her mother already, or at least, that she’s realized that no amount of asking is going to bring her mother back.

“It’s got to be hard on her, even if she doesn’t really understand, especially because she doesn’t,” I say, looking at my niece.

Riley’s completely focused on her chicken and fruit and chips and she is as interested in making a mess of everything as she is in getting it into her mouth. Ethan takes a break from his sandwich to help Riley make some progress on actually eating her food, and after a few moments I take over from him, leaving my salad on the sidelines.

“I didn’t really realize how much Alexis did around the house until…”

I know what Ethan is saying even though he just lets the sentence die off.

“Well, she was home, wasn’t she?” It occurs to me that I don’t even really know what my sister’s life was like before she died. I’d cut her and Ethan out of my own life so completely, so ruthlessly, that even Mom, who never quite gave up on the idea of one day seeing me and Alexis reconcile, knew better than to broach the topic of my sister beyond the most basic news.

“Yeah, she was,” Ethan says. He looks exhausted, and I can’t blame him. It has to have been one of the worst weeks of his life, trying to keep the house at least clean enough to be safe for a toddler, trying to keep himself fed, and working his normal hours, on top of losing his wife.

I feel a little stirring of sympathy for a man who I once swore I would hate for the rest of my life and I don’t even know whether I should let myself feel it or stifle it completely.

“You should get a maid,” I tell him. I laughed at the idea when he mentioned it, because it just seemed so ridiculous, but if there’s no one but him and Riley at the house, and he’s having to work extra hours through the week to have a three-day weekend, then I can see the benefit.

“I can get my parents at least to help out with getting groceries and stuff,” Ethan says absently. “I mean, they have to go to the grocery store anyway, I can just give them money and have them take my list.”

“I could, too,” I point out. I don’t even know why I’m volunteering to get more involved than I’m meant to, but I reason to myself that making sure that Riley’s home is comfortable and well-stocked is just as much part of helping to raise her as actually spending time with her is.

“I thought you didn’t want to be too involved,” Ethan counters.

I shrug.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m going to be seeing you outside of taking care of Riley,” I say. It sounds cold to my ears, but I have to say it anyway. You can’t let your guard down. He still betrayed you. He still hooked up with your sister. No amount of pity for his current situation is enough to reverse what he did to me, what my sister did to me.

“Right,” Ethan says. I look at him, but there’s no hint of teasing in his voice, there’s no sign that he takes what I said anything other than completely seriously.

“Anyway, we should probably figure out what to do about doctors’ appointments and stuff,” I say, switching back to the safest possible topic, the little girl we’re both responsible for raising.

We talk more about the logistics of how two people living in separate towns and houses are going to raise a child together, and take turns eating our own food and helping Riley eat hers, and even as I’m leaving to go back to my apartment, to finish setting everything up to have my first day working from home on Tuesday, with my niece staying with me, I’m completely and totally confused about how to feel.