Page 5 of Under My Skin

Chapter Five

LUCY

I step out of the airport and adjust the floral duffel bag my mom gifted me when I went to college. It’s been almost a year since I’ve been home. Last Christmas was spent in my parents’ living room where we played games, laughed, drank, and roasted each other.

I swear my dad had looked at my mom adoringly.

Could I be remembering it wrong? Maybe they were both miserable, and I was too wrapped up in my own life to notice.

My business was just taking off, and my client list was growing.

Maybe I was too focused on other things to see how broken they were.

Maybe I didn’t even bother to pay attention.

I wrap my chunky knit cardigan around myself a little tighter and take in my home state.

The familiar deep oranges and reds of the trees changing colors takes the edge off my anxiety, but knowing my parents’ home will never be the same makes this trip feel more like an emergency landing than a homecoming. I pull out my phone to request an Uber.

Ellen will be here in three minutes.

I could call my brother to pick me up. The airport is only about twenty minutes from his apartment, but I’m not ready to get into things with him.

Which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense considering I just asked Ellen to deliver me to his address, but I think I need the twenty-minute car ride. I need a little more time.

I tried calling my mom before I got on my flight as a last-ditch effort to let her tell me what’s going on, but she didn’t answer. Staring at the outbound call with no new incoming calls above it, I force air into my lungs and dial her number again.

“Honey!” my mother exclaims on the other end of the phone.

“I’m so sorry I missed your call earlier.

Your father and I have been ripping this house apart and trying to get rid of anything we haven’t used in ten years.

” She laughs. “But you know your father. The man won’t part with a set of golf clubs even though he’s probably only used them once. ”

I blink, unsure of what to say. Shouldn’t she be sad? Shouldn’t she sound like the life she once knew is ending? How can she sound exactly like her usual self when so much is happening behind the scenes?

“Why are you getting rid of so much?” I meant for my voice to come out light and casual, but I sound panicked—probably because I am. Excuse me for not being as good of an actress as my mother.

“Just some spring cleaning in October,” she says with another laugh. “Hey, do you still want that box of stuffed animals we have in your closet? I think we narrowed it down to just keeping your favorites a few years ago, but are you ever going to want them?”

Who knew an artist could be so ruthless with her lies? I quickly itch my nose when it tingles with the threat of tears. “Maybe?” I say, failing to not sound defeated.

Ellen pulls up to the curb in her blue Rav4, and I give her my best smile before placing my cat carrier and suitcase near my feet in the back seat. She tosses me a wave over her shoulder, and I wave back.

Despite my effort to be quiet, I guess my mom can hear the car door close because she says, “Where are you headed? Fun plans tonight?”

The truth is on the tip of my tongue. I could tell her I’m on my way to Simon’s apartment. I plan on seeing her tomorrow, anyway, so it’s not like I’m going to hide this trip from her. But even though I have no reason to hide my truth, I hold it hostage. “I’m meeting up with Allison and Dina.”

“Oh, that’s great! Give them a hug for me.”

My fist clenches in my lap. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this rigid. But then again, I can’t remember the last time I’ve been blatantly lied to like this. “Yeah, will do. Where’s Dad? Isn’t it a little late for you two to be cleaning the house?”

I hold my breath as I wait for her response. I wonder if she’s sweating under the pressure, or if the lies she’s curated roll off her tongue with ease. “Hmm,” she says like she’s actively looking for him, and I wonder if she is. “He’s around here somewhere.”

“Who’s around where nowhere?” my father’s deep voice rings in the background. It’s one of his favorite jokes, and I’ve never had the heart to tell him it makes no sense.

My mother laughs at it the same way she has for as long as I can remember. “Oh, here he is. Honey, it’s Lulu,” she says to my dad.

Their conversation is so normal . It’s making me nostalgic for something I haven’t technically lost yet.

What will happen when I call them six months from now?

Will they each be alone? Will it be my mom’s new boyfriend trying to make jokes instead?

Or will it be my dad’s girlfriend trying to connect with me?

Whose idea was this divorce, anyway? I was so blindsided when Simon told me that I didn’t even think to ask for details.

“Lucy!” My dad practically cheers loud enough to be heard. “How’s our big city designer?”

Despite the multitude of feelings swirling in my gut, my lips lift at that. “You make it sound like I’m in Manhattan with models working the runway.” That life sounds glamorous compared to mine, spending too many days locked inside with my face too close to a screen.

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, what you’re designing is much more important. Businesses need logos, kiddo, and we need more small businesses to thrive.”

He’s right, but why is this what we’re talking about? “So, Mom says you two are going through the house?”

There’s a slight pause. Seemingly insignificant.

If I didn’t know their current situation, I might not even notice it, but I can read through it too clearly.

I can picture him glancing at my mother with panic, like maybe she told me without him being there, and I can picture my mother gently shaking her head to reassure him that their dirty little divorce is still safe.

“Have you seen the stuff in this house?” My father chuckles, brushing off his hesitation. “I think we still have every toy and board game we ever bought you kids.”

“And most of them are missing pieces,” my mother chimes in.

“Right! Do you remember when we tried to play Monopoly a few weeks ago with the Cunninghams until we realized the dice were missing and most of the cards had teeth marks from when Lucy was a baby?”

So, they’re getting a divorce, but just a few weeks ago, they were attempting a couple’s game night with the neighbors? My eyes burn, so I quickly blink back the hot tears before they have the chance to drop into my voice. “Um, I have to go. It looks like I’m at my stop.”

Ellen and I make eye contact in the rearview mirror because I most certainly am not at my brother’s apartment yet, but if my parents can lie through their teeth, so can I.

“Okay, have fun tonight! We’ll catch up later.”

“Yeah, okay.” I’ve already checked out of the conversation. I barely register them saying how much they love me, and I’m not even sure I say it back before disconnecting the call.

My head rests against the back of the seat, and I try to take steadying breaths.

We’ve turned onto the main strip with shops and boutiques, and I carefully read each business name to distract myself.

There are so many people out tonight. They’re all enjoying their Friday, ready to kick off their weekend, and right now, I envy each of them just a little.

The Steamy Mug.

Flowers by Millie.

Copper Ridge Tattoo Co.

My eyes linger on the tattoo shop. I don’t have any tattoos, but my brother is practically covered in them.

I wonder what my parents would think if I got one.

They’d probably say it’s so unlike me. They might even be disappointed.

Even my mom, with all her artistic tendencies, used to joke that my brother could just frame a sketch if he wanted it to last a lifetime .

I’m sure that same response would be amplified with me.

I’m their little girl. I’m the one who didn’t get into trouble growing up.

I followed the rules. I always did the right thing. I never rebelled.

My hand presses against the window, my whole body turning to keep my eyes locked on the shop like it has a magnetic pull.

“You can stop the car,” I say without letting myself think about what I’m doing.

When I turn back around, Ellen’s eyes find mine in the mirror’s reflection again. “You’re sure?”

I nod, my hand already on the handle as her car comes to a stop. “Yes. Thank you.”

Grabbing my things, I step onto the curb. My parents aren’t the only ones who can do something unexpected.