The One Without Words

? chapter six | separation ?

Silence. Silence all the way home. What were my friends doing at Seth's party right now? I imagined Eli, drunk and wandering through the crowd like the lost soul he was. He'd once admitted he hated parties but always came if they were Seth's, lingering behind him like a shadow, trying to play along. Megan the social butterfly talked to everyone while still maintaining that yeah, if this was a cliche high school movie I'd so be the queen bee vibe to her—at least until she got tipsy and ended up puking into some potted plant. Interestingly, I'd never witnessed Seth get wasted. He focused more on making sure everyone else was having fun, managing the drinks and food and games. And considering he already acted like a dumbass 24/7 anyway, he didn't need alcohol to let loose.

"Tell your family I said hello," Danielle said once she stopped in front of my house.

I didn't bother to tell them bye as I stepped out. Mostly because something else caught my attention—yelling from inside. I shoved my key in and swung the door open.

"Don't you dare try!" Talia yelled at Grace. I caught Dad's gaze. He sat on the couch, knees to his chest, watching the argument unfold.

Grace tilted her head. "It was just a comment. I don't understand why you have to be—"

"That's the point," Talia laughed. "It was just a comment, so casual like you have the right to come here and say it. Romy doesn't need this. She really, really doesn't."

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

"It means you're temporary. You're here for little while to help us with the shop, but it's not yours, okay? I appreciate it, don't get me wrong, but I also think it's up to you to start at least trying to solve your problems with your daughter. Because money's not enough."

Grace stared at the ground.

Talia stuck her chin up. "My point exactly."

"Talia," I said.

She smiled at me like nothing happened at all. "Oh, glad you made it back safe. Come on, I have some flower techniques I need to show you."

I followed her up to her room. "Why is Grace downstairs?"

Talia sighed. "She invited herself in. I don't know what she wants."

"And you were defending me even though you've been avoiding me all week?"

"I'm sorry," she said as she slumped onto her bed. "I don't like this situation, either. It makes me uncomfortable."

"But you knew about Grace before I did."

Even if I had known, it wasn't like it'd make a difference. Talia was the boss. College grad, a young put-together professional. Me? I was the delinquent with the 10 o' clock curfew, I couldn't have boys over, and if my grades dropped below a 4.0 this year, my parents would immediately think I'd been shoplifting again.

Talia stared at her hands, scratching the polish off her nails. "Are you trying to turn against me now, too?"

"That's the last thing I want," I said. "You're actually my only ally in this house."

Sure, we had little in common. Talia with her always-cheerful smile, her anger less a simmering flame of resentment and more a spark that came and went. Talia whose parents had also divorced when she was young, but unlike me, she had a great relationship with them and missed her dad all the time.

When she didn't respond, I said, "If you want to make it up to me, you'll do me a favor and fire Jack."

She let out a small laugh. "He doesn't like you either. Whenever I mention you to him and scrunches up his nose like he's allergic to your name."

"Whatever. He's not coming to work on Monday. Or any other day, actually."

"Come look." She stood and went to her laptop. Pictures of a small Talia with her dad and baby brother in Chile filled the cork board above the desk. Along with pictures of her and her college friends here.

A website loaded onto the screen.

"What is that?" I asked.

"That," she said, "is our website. New and improved, all thanks to Jack."

Our shop name—Greta's Flores—was displayed in pretty, pink font at the top of the page. The buttons, taking the shape of little roses, had been moved and arranged neatly on the bright, floral theme. Everything in order. Everything in place. Thirty times better than our old one, and my breathing got quicker once I realized that somehow, Jack hadn't been so useless after all.

"This actually looks pretty good," I admitted. "I didn't think he would have an eye for aesthetics."

"He's talented. I told him exactly how I wanted it, and he came up with something better."

"Cool. I'm leaving."

"You don't want to learn my new arrangement tricks?" She pouted, motioning to the various vases she'd probably been working on before her argument with Grace, but I wasn't in the mood to be in this house while Grace was here. While her presence lingered.

"Maybe tomorrow," I said. When I got to my room, I pulled out my phone. Stared at the screen for a long time. Scrolled through all the texts from Jack. My thumb hovered over the keyboard, but I closed out of the thread and pulled up Seth's name instead.

To Seth:

I've changed my mind about the party. Pick me up if the storm didn't make you cancel. 

❀     ❀     ❀

A/N: Song for this chapter is "Pocket Change" by DeathbyRomy (yes, I was excited when I saw that this artist had the same name as my character Romy, and I listened to all her songs until I found one that fit haha)

You'll notice that several characters have experience with divorce in this story. Romy, Talia, and Jack. My parents are divorced as well, and I've always wondered how other families deal with it. 

This chapter is dedicated to sandydragon1 for the lovely comments and thought-provoking insights into these messy ass characters 💜 Their book "Quit Bugging Me" may also be one of the best I've read on this site!!