Free Who I Kissed by Janet Gurtler Page B

the F-word in front of him. He says nothing. A part of me realizes I want him to yell. To talk about what’s happening, even in anger. But he stares at me as if I’m someone he doesn’t even know.
    In some ways, he’s right.
    “Do you need to go back and see the counselor?” he calls.
    I head for my bedroom. “Bob and I have an appointment in a week,” I call back. “I’m good.”
    I need to talk, but as usual, there’s so much Dad and I don’t say. So much we need to say. Like the F-word. Over and over and over. Until my throat begs for mercy.

chapter eight
    A couple of days later, I walk in the door from school and Aunt Allie jumps up from the kitchen table and whirls toward me, a blend of turquoise and browns, as her skirt and billowy sweater blow all around her. She’s holding Fredrick in one arm. He has a tiny little head with pointy black ears, and he’s wearing a miniature bandana with autumn leaves all over it.
    Fredrick stares at me with a slightly entitled expression shining in his eyes and barks a high-pitched squeal, but his tail wags as Aunt Allie pulls me toward her with her free arm. He maneuvers around us and licks my face to renew our friendship.
    Aunt Allie crushes me into her shoulder. Her flowery scent is both familiar and comforting. She never changes much. Skirts, scarves, blouses, vests. When she lets me go, she lifts my chin and stares into my eyes with her intensely green-blue ones, so much like Dad’s and my own. Hers are enhanced with eyeliner and see much more than I ever want them to. Whether it’s because of her spirituality and dabblings in all things psychic or just because she knows me so well, I’m never sure.
    “I’m so sorry about what you’ve been going through, butterfly.” Her voice is low and gravelly. “I would have come sooner, but I was in a convention in Houston. Keynote speaker.” She lets my chin go and hugs me close again.
    Behind us, Dad is sitting at the kitchen table, visible from the foyer. He clears his throat and mumbles something, but we both ignore him.
    “It’s okay,” I say into her shoulder.
    “We knew you’d come eventually,” Dad mumbles a little louder.
    She gently pushes me back so she can look over to the kitchen and glare at him, but she keeps one arm around me, Fredrick tucked up in the other. I slide off my shoes and slip out from her.
    “No, it’s not okay. Sam needed me. I don’t care what you say, Jonathan. She did. Does.” She narrows her eyes and shoots him a look so evil that if I were on the other end of it I would sleep with one eye open for the rest of my life. He merely rolls his.
    “The truth is, I would have flown here the minute I heard about the accident, but your dad said to give you space. I came as soon as your father would let me.”
    “Way to”—Dad makes air quotation marks—“hold your tongue.”
    Aunt Allie makes a pshhaw sound. “I don’t want to darken the energy in this house with more lies. She needs to know I love her and would drop everything for her.”
    “She’s my daughter,” Dad says.
    “And she’s my niece. Also a girl who desperately needs the love of a woman right now. A relative, not a nanny. And unfortunately, I’m the closest thing she’s got.”
    I know she auditioned hard for the role of surrogate mom, but Dad went with a nanny from the time I was little. She still brings it up every once in a while, even though the nanny days are behind me. It’s not the first or the last time they’ll bicker about me.
    Dad studies the table and brushes away imaginary crumbs. “I didn’t ask you to lie to her. You just don’t have to blurt out every thought on your mind.”
    “I’m glad you’re here,” I say before she can answer.
    I reach out to pet Fredrick. He snorts happily and licks my hand, wagging his tail. His head is out of proportion with his body. Pencil-thin legs support his bloated tummy. He paws at my arm, demanding that I take him from Aunt Allie and give him the