Free The Death of Us by Alice Kuipers Page A

your best life. Thespeaker is a woman, about thirty, gorgeous, funny, in control, just about exactly who I’m gonna be one day.

    Mom’s downstairs making waffles. “Hey, sugar,” she says. She’s trussed up in a pink apron. Her hair is loose. For a moment I let myself believe and I say all cutesy, “Hey, Mommy.”
    She opens the waffle maker and spoons in some mix. It sizzles. “Don’t you just love it here, Ivy?”
    I shrug one shoulder.
    “Kevin wants to take the two of us for supper somewhere elegant.” Her deep red lipstick frames her smiling mouth. She’s stylish when she wants to be, like a photograph from a magazine. I get it from her. Not that I’m boasting or anything. I just have a feel for clothes, hair, makeup. I could go into that, I suppose. I’m meant to be planning all that—planning a future.
    “Blueberries?” she asks.
    “Sure.”
    “What are you doing today?” She hovers over the waffle maker.
    “Heading to Kurt’s boat.”
    “Kurt?”
    “Just some guy. He’s cute.” I twirl a strand of my hair around my index finger. “Are you okay?”
    “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” she says, all shiny like a sequin.
    “Just, you know. Moving. Kevin.”
    “Kevin’s a wonderful guy.”
    “If you say so.”
    “Don’t spoil this, Ivy.”
    I swallow. Hard. My throat hurts. I think over the podcast.
When the world tries to get you down, just hold yourself up higher. Fill yourself with light.
    She opens the waffle maker and tips the waffle onto my plate. It smells buttery and sweet. “God, can’t you just be grateful?”
    “I am, Mom. Sorry.”
    “You should be. It’s not every girl who gets waffles made by her mom for breakfast. I never did. My mom was too busy travelling the world, acting in movies to make me waffles. No time for a kid, oh no, just pack up your stuff and follow along … but I made time for you.”
    I’ve heard it all before, the way she says it with notrace of irony—like, doesn’t she see? I try to pull her rant-train back on track. “The waffles look delicious.”
    “Of course they do.”
    We’re there. Light fills me. And now I have a waffle to eat too.
    Kevin walks in. “Hello there, my girls. Super duper. Breakfast all together?” He’s the only person I’ve ever met who actually grins. With his red velvet housecoat and potbelly he’s too gross to contemplate. He says, “Circling the wagons!”
    Mom smiles broadly. “How it should be. Right, Ivy?”
    I nod. “Absolutely.”
Happy families are made up of happy individuals
. “Absolutely,” I say again.
Callie
    Rebecca’s at my front door. “Surprise,” she says. “I thought I’d come see you.”
    I give her a hug and say, “You’re not mad anymore?” She has a blue streak in her hair. I add, “Um, you did your hair while you were camping?”
    “Yesterday after work.”
    “Sorry I didn’t call back.”
    “S’okay. I wasn’t really speaking to you anyways.” Rebecca is wiry and muscly. She’s on the track team, cross-country ski team, swim team, and is about as outdoorsy as it gets.
    “So, you got physical with nature?” I say as she follows me into the house. “Pitched a tent? Hiked with bears? Posted stuff on the Internet?”
    She laughs and slides up onto the kitchen counter. “Hi, Mom-Two,” she says to my mom.
    “Hey, sweetheart. You had a nice time with your dad?”
    “It’s always nice when Melissa’s not there.” Rebecca calls Melissa slutbag when my mom’s not around.
    Mom juggles Cosmo on her hip and Rebecca coos at him, “Hey, baby. You got bigger!”
    He smiles at her.
    “He loves me!” she says.
    “‘Kay, no more Cosmo.” I yank her off the counter. “We’re going outside.”
    “We are?”
    I nod. “We are.” I grab my bag.
    When we get outside I break it to her. “Don’t be mad.”
    “What?”
    “You won’t believe it.”
    “What?” She’s sardonic. “You’re killing me.”
    “Seriously. I’m going out on a boat today with Kurt and