There would be no more excuses now.
She looked down at her stomach. There was a baby growing inside of her. An actual human being. What in God’s name was she going to do?
“Em?” Ricky held the screen door open. She looked as horrible as Emily felt. Tears formed a river down her face. Snot dripped from her nose. Her cheeks were splotchy red.
Emily felt ashamed that her initial reaction was anger. The thought of listening to Ricky sob over something inconsequential Nardo had done to hurt her feelings while Emily’s life was crashing down around her was too much.
It was also incredibly selfish.
“Ricky,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
“Al—” Ricky’s voice choked. She grabbed Emily’s hand and pulled her into the house. “Al just told us—he said—oh, God, Em, what are we going to do?”
Emily guided her to the overstuffed couch under the bay window. “Ricky, slow down. What’s going on? What happened?”
Ricky fell into Emily. Her head ended up in Emily’s lap. She was shaking.
“Rick.” Emily looked up the stairs into the kitchen, wondering where Blake was. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, we’ll—”
“It won’t be okay,” Ricky muttered. Her head turned to look up at Emily. “The money is gone.”
“What money?”
“From the lawsuit,” Ricky said. “It was supposed to be held in a trust for us to go to college, but Al spent it.”
Emily shook her head, disbelieving. Al was blunt and often rude, but he wouldn’t steal from his own grandchildren.
“We’re going to be stuck here,” Ricky said. “Forever.”
“I don’t …” Emily tried to understand what had happened. It didn’t make sense. She was a judge’s daughter. She knew that trusts were very structured. You couldn’t raid them on a whim. And also, not to be rude, but the house the Blakelys lived in was hardly grand. Al drove a truck that was older than the twins.
She asked Ricky, “What did he spend it on?”
“The restaurant.”
Emily leaned back into the couch. The restaurant had nearly burned to the ground a few years ago. Al had managed to rebuild. Now, she understood how.
Ricky said, “Al told us that the restaurant was our—our legacy. He thinks we want to work at that stupid place, Em. That’s all he thinks we’re good for is slinging milkshakes for fat, rich assholes from Baltimore.”
Emily chewed her lip. Maybe she would’ve agreed with Ricky’s disgust last week, but now, she understood what it meant to have someone else depending on you. Every choice Emily made for the rest of her life would be either to the benefit or the detriment of the child growing inside of her. The diner was a viable business, even successful. College was important, but so was having money for food and a roof over your head.
“It’s too late to apply for scholarships,” Ricky said. “We can’t get financial aid because Al makes too much money. At least on paper.”
“I’m—” Emily didn’t know what to say. She was slightly horrified to find herself siding with Al. “I’m sorry, Ricky.”
“He loves that stupid restaurant more than us.”
Emily tried, “You could work for a year and save up?”
Ricky looked aghast as she sat up. “Work at what, Em? Are you kidding me?”
“I’m sorry,” Emily apologized instinctively. Ricky had always been mercurial, but her fury was head-turning. “You want to go into journalism. You could find an internship at a newspaper or—”
“Shut up!” Ricky screamed. “You’re worse than Al. Do you know that?”
“I—”
“You want me to fetch coffee for a bunch of cranky old jerks who look at me like I’m a child?” Ricky demanded. “I need a journalism degree, Emily. No one will respect me if I’m just the errand girl. I have to have an education.”
Emily didn’t know what journalism schools taught, but she couldn’t see that it was a bad idea to have some experience at an actual newspaper. “But you could work your way up to—”
“Work my way up?” Ricky’s voice was shrill. “My parents died, Emily! They were killed because some fucking charter service broke the law.”
“I know that, Ricky, but—”
“There’s no but about it!” Ricky screamed. “Jesus Christ, Em. They didn’t die so that I would be forced to choose between taking shit from old farts and taking shit from tourists.”
“But you’ll take shit no matter what!” Emily was surprised to find herself screaming. “They won’t respect you either way, Ricky. They just won’t.”
Ricky had been shocked into silence.
“No one will respect you.” Emily heard her mother’s sanguine warning echoing in her head. “You’re a townie from a beach resort with okay grades and a big pair of breasts. None of those things command respect.”
Ricky’s shock did not abate. She looked at Emily as if she’d turned into a stranger. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I’m your friend,” Emily tried. “I’m just saying that you can get through this. It’s going to take hard work, but—”
“Hard work?” Ricky laughed in her face. “Like the hard work you do, judge’s daughter? Is that silver spoon gagging you?”
“I’m not—”
“Spoiled fucking bitch, that’s what you are.” Ricky had her arms crossed. “Everything comes so fucking easy for you. You don’t know a damn thing about living in the real world.”
Emily felt her throat work. “I’m pregnant.”
Ricky’s mouth dropped open but, for once, she was silent.
“I’m not going to college, either. I’ll be lucky if I’m able to finish my senior year.” Emily had thought the words before, but hearing them out loud, even in her own voice, sounded like a death sentence. “I won’t be able to get a congressional internship. I probably won’t be able to find a job because I’ll be home changing diapers and taking care of a baby. And even when the baby is old enough to go to school, who’s going to hire an unmarried mother?”
Ricky’s mouth closed, then opened again.
“Do you remember The Party last month?” Emily asked. “Someone did something to me. Took advantage of me. And now I’m going to pay for it for the rest of my life.”
Ricky’s head started shaking back and forth. She was having the same initial reaction as Emily. “The boys wouldn’t do that. You’re lying.”
“Then who was it?” Emily asked. “Honestly, Ricky, tell me who else it could be.”
Ricky kept shaking her head. “Not the boys.”
Emily could only repeat herself. “Then who else?”
“Who else?” Ricky’s head stopped shaking. She looked Emily in the eye. “Anybody, Em. It could literally be anybody.”
Now it was Emily’s turn to be without words.
“You don’t know that you got pregnant at The Party.” Ricky’s hands went to her hips. “You’re just saying that because you want to trap one of them.”