Shiny Broken Pieces Read Free

Abney.” Yuli gathers her things and kisses my sweaty cheek. I want to reach out, touch her shoulder, tell her not to leave. But she slips away before I can say anything.
    â€œBette, freshen up,” my mother says once I reach the top of the stairs. She’s perched over the kitchen island and halfway through a glass of red wine. She points it up in the air, directing me to my room.
    I go upstairs and take off my leotard and tights. I gaze out the window and look down on Sixty-ninth Street to see if there’s a car parked out front that I might recognize. Nothing. I take a two-second shower, change into a dress, then ease down the front staircase. Justina squeezes through the French doors in the living room.
    â€œWho is it?” I whisper.
    â€œMan from your school, I think. And a lady.” She pulls my hair away from my shoulders, smoothing it. Her fingers are warm, her touch light. “Be my good girl in there, okay?”
    I peek through the French doors before committing to opening them. The back of Mr. Lucas’s blond head stares back at me. I nearly choke.
    â€œOh, there you are.” My mother waves me in.
    I take a deep breath and exhale, like I’m standing in the wings, preparing to take my place center stage. I step into the room and sit across from him.
    A man like Mr. Lucas doesn’t just show up at your house unannounced. He’s with a woman who isn’t his wife. She’s got one of those haircuts meant to make her look older, more sophisticated, less hot in a beach-babe way. She probably wants to get people to pay attention to more than just her very blond hair and the fact that her shirt is a tad too tight, showing off her large breasts.
    â€œHello, Bette.” Ballerinas are mostly flat-chested, so I’m lucky not to have her problem.
    â€œHi, Mr. Lucas.” I dig my nail into one of the curved rosewood armrests, leaving a half-moon shape behind. One evening, not long from now, my mother will settle into this high-backed chair in front of the fire and ask Justina for her nightly glass of wine. She will run shaky, wine-drunk fingers across the indentations and yell about it.
    â€œThis is my new assistant, Rachel.” He motions at the young woman. She gives me a slight smile. He unfolds a thick bundle of papers and flashes them at me. “Your mother showed me this.” He’s holding the settlement agreement. All the things I supposedly did to Gigi are spelled out in black and white. The little typed script makes them look sicker, more disgusting andofficial than they actually were.
    â€œYou know, I still don’t understand how any of this happened.” His brow crinkles in the same way Alec’s does when he’s confused.
    â€œI’m sorry,” I blurt out because that’s what the Abney family therapist told me to lead with. I flash him a half smile. I try to show him I’m a different Bette. That I’ve learned whatever lesson they’ve been trying to teach me. That I’m ready to go back to normal now.
    â€œDo you know what you’re sorry for?”
    â€œMessing with Gigi.”
    My mother steps in. “Dominic, we don’t need to go back through this entire incident. That can’t be why you came here.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Mom. I’m taking responsibility for my part.”
    â€œThings have been settled, and you didn’t—”
    â€œMom, it’s fine.” It feels good to clip off her words the way she’s done to mine so many times. She takes hurried sips from her wineglass and motions Justina over with the bottle. Mr. Lucas’s assistant shifts uncomfortably in her seat and tugs at her shirt. Mr. Lucas refuses a glass of wine or any of the expensive cheese my mother goads Justina into offering.
    â€œYou’re lucky it wasn’t tragic,” he says in the gentlest way possible. The words hurt even more when they hit me softly. The sting burns long into the