entrance essays. I wondered if maybe you could read them over and tell me what you think. My counselor said I shouldn’t use the same exact essay for every college. That I should try to match their personality, like I know what that means.”
She grinned and Nicole found herself smiling back. “I don’t know, either, if that’s what you were hoping for.”
Finn laughed. “It would be nice, but I thought maybe you could just read them and give me some suggestions on how to make them better.”
Nicole was flattered, but surprised. “I’m not an expert.”
“I know, but you’re so together and cool and stuff. Not like my mom. She doesn’t get things anymore.”
Nicole felt a flash of sympathy for Finn’s mother who probably tried to connect with her daughter, only to be dismissed.
“I’d be happy to.” She pushed the bowl of M &Ms toward Finn. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
Over the next hour, Nicole and Finn talked about her essays. They were variations on a theme-talking about the summer her little brother had died in a swimming accident and how that had changed her family in general and her specifically.
“I haven’t done much,” Nicole said when they were finished. “You did a great job with these.”
Finn beamed. “Yeah? I hope so. I’ve been working on them a lot. I want to go to Stanford as a biochemistry major, then become a doctor.”
Nicole eyed the cheerleader uniform and knew she’d been guilty of judging the teen for the wrong things. “Good luck with that. And for what it’s worth, your mom probably understands a whole lot more than you give her credit for. You should try to talk to her more.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. Give it a try.”
Finn looked doubtful, but she murmured, “Okay,” as she left the kitchen.
Nicole returned to her magazine and M &Ms, only to have Claire walk into the kitchen a few minutes later. Her sister stared at her.
“You have teenagers in your house,” she said, sounding beyond surprised.
“I know.”
“A lot of them.”
“I’m a hangout. They’re Raoul’s friends. They seem to be fine. No one’s doing drugs in the basement and they clean up after themselves.”
Claire shook her head. “You have teenagers in your house.”
“You said that already.”
“This is very strange.”
Nicole pulled out a chair. “Want anything? Water? Juice?”
“A latte with an extra shot,” Claire said, then shook her head. “Sorry. Momentary caffeine urge. It’ll pass.” She sat down and grabbed some M &Ms. “What’s going on here?”
“I told you about Raoul. How I’ve taken him in.”
“I heard the words but I didn’t actually understand them. He lives here.”
“In the guest room.”
“You barely know him.”
“I know enough.”
“How long is he staying?”
“I have no idea. Possibly through June.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “And you’re okay with that?”
“I like having him around. He’s a good kid and he deserves a break. Drew came back and Raoul protected me. Not with your style, of course.”
Claire laughed. “Does Drew still have a scar?”
“Oh, yeah.”
They smiled at each other.
Claire sorted her candy by colors and ate the green ones first. “Nicole, you know I love you, but you’re the least easygoing person I know. You take charge of things, you’re not especially patient. So how can you be so laid-back and casual about what’s happening with Raoul?”
Nicole considered the question. “I don’t know. I just am. Maybe I’m changing.”
“Maybe this is easy because it’s familiar.”
Nicole’s good mood retreated. “I’m not talking about Jesse. She’s gone and that’s a good thing.” She spoke firmly, even though she wasn’t sure it was a good thing at all.
“Doesn’t anything about this strike you as familiar? You’re raising yet another teenager.”
“Raoul doesn’t need raising. He needs a place to stay. That’s all I’m providing.”
“But there are similarities. You’ve traded one responsibility for another.”
“Maybe.” Nicole hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but so what?
“You miss her,” Claire said softly.
“She’s my sister. I’m supposed to miss her.” What she didn’t say was that nothing was right with Jesse gone.
“So let’s go find her and bring her back.”
Nicole stood and leaned against the counter. “To what end? She needs to learn her lesson.”
“Which lesson is that?”
“The one about taking responsibility. The one that forces her to grow up. She’s needed to grow up for a long time. She has to learn to make it on her own.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Nicole didn’t have an answer for that.
HAWK STALKED through his house, unable to settle down. He felt restless, which was unusual. Normally he was comfortable in his own skin.
He went upstairs where Brittany was doing homework in her room. He paused at the door.
“How long you going to be?” he asked. “I thought we could go do something. Maybe a movie.”
She looked at him. “Dad, it’s a school night.”
“Right.” He thought about making an exception on her midweek curfew, but knew that would send the wrong message. “I’ll go find something to watch on TV.”
“You should call her,” his daughter yelled as he walked down the hall.
That stopped him mid-stride. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Nicole. You should call Nicole.”
He walked back to his daughter’s room. “Why would you say that?”
She gave him a look of long-suffering. One that said that parents were really, really stupid. “Because you’ve been crabby ever since you had a fight with her.”
How did Brittany know about that? “What fight?”
She rolled her eyes. “The one where you both talked in really tense voices, then she left without saying goodbye.” She sighed. “Don’t worry. I didn’t hear what the fight was about and I don’t want to know. It’s probably gross grown-up stuff or really boring.”
He didn’t know what to say to that.
“She’s nice,” Brittany said. “I like her. You like her. It’s okay to have a girlfriend, Dad. It’s not like you’re going to get married.”
“I don’t need your permission to date.”
“I know, but I’m still giving it.”
She was adorable and completely irritating, he thought as he shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Worship me, like everyone else. Seriously, Dad, you like her.”
“I know.”
“So, go for it. Apologize.”
