Free Hard by Eve Jagger Page B

house
to pay a debt I can’t cover.
    That I would never put Jamie in this position is the thing I have to
consider. That’s what I have to acknowledge: my brother, once
and for all, is a fuckup.
    “I’m glad,” Mom says. “You’ve always
been a good influence on him. He could use it. I’ve been a
little worried about him since he got that DUI at the beginning of
the year. I guess he told you about that whole thing.”
    I shake my head and sigh away from the mouthpiece of the phone. Nope. Jamie hasn’t told me anything, except that he’s not
telling me anything.
    “It’s hard to be so far away from you two,” she
says. “I can’t look out for you anymore.”
    “Don’t worry, Mom. You and Dad taught us well. Jamie can
be a slow learner,” I say. I see myself in the mirror above my
dresser, across from my bed, and I run my hand across the short
length of my hair, smiling at the new look, sleek and dark and
modern. “But I’m pretty good at taking care of myself.”
    “Speaking of taking care of things, are you finding all the
stuff you wanted to take back to England, or did Jamie cram it into a
closet somewhere the second you moved?”
    “You know, I’ve been sort of slowly going through
things,” I say. When I called my mom last week to tell her I
was coming home, I’d said it was to retrieve some of my old
things from growing up—yearbooks, photos, books. I wasn’t
ready to tell her the truth: that I was really coming home to
retrieve my old self.
    It’s not even that she wouldn’t understand my decision or
support me. But she’d worry. And she’d be sad, and she’s
already had so much sadness with my dad and it sounds like with Jamie
lately. So I decided to protect her, which ended up meaning I was
lying to her.
    And
maybe, if I’m actually honest, it meant I was lying to myself a
little, too.
    The
truth might set you free, but it may not be an easy liberation. And
right now, I’m enjoying feeling liberated too much to tie
either of us up in the facts of my departure.
    “It’s too bad Sebastian couldn’t come with you to
help,” she says. “It’s always more fun to do that
kind of chore with someone, and I’m sure Jamie isn’t
pitching in.”
    “I’ve been doing okay alone,” I say. “In
fact, it’s been kind of nice to have the time to myself. I even
picked up some temporary bookkeeping work.”
    “Oh, well, that’s kind of neat,” Mom says. “How’d
you come by that?”
    I twist my mouth, thinking of how to put it. “Someone Jamie
knows needed help.”
    “Well, that’s great, Cass. Home less than a week and a
job just falls into your lap.”
    More like Ryder’s face just falls into my lap. I cover
my eyes with my hand, horrified by having such an image pass through
my mind while I’m on the phone with my mother but unable to
suppress the smile the thought brings to my mouth.
    “A little spending money while you’re on vacation,”
she says. “That’ll be good. Don’t let Jamie borrow
it all.”
    I laugh at the irony. “I’ll try,” I say.
    “Are you going to work there the whole time you’re here?”
    “I guess if they need me,” I say.
    “I’m sure they will,” she says. “Who doesn’t
want a pretty, smart, funny, interesting, responsible woman around?”
    “Someone just like her mother?”
    Mom laughs. “Exactly.”
     
     
    After I get off the phone with my mom, I crawl into bed, leaving the
curtains open, the expanse of our wooded backyard black on the other
side of the window, softened by the white glow of the moonlight. It’s
restful and peaceful, but I can’t seem to sleep, her question
at the end of our conversation bouncing around in my head.
    We’re here to work, Ryder had said at the start of last
night, and even though obviously he’s as complicit in what
happened in his office as I am (maybe even more, right? I mean it is his office, after all), I wonder if I’ll be seen as a
liability now, the thing to be removed from the balance