Josh strokes his hand over mine. “Come on, Gemma. Love is the best gift any of us have to give.” He says it with a slight smile in his voice that makes my heart give a little tug.
“You don’t believe in all that Ian stuff.”
Josh looks down at me and raises an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised.”
I lay my head to his chest and listen to his heart.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him again. “I’m sorry about your dad. And I’m sorry about all this. For dragging you into it, for using you—”
“Hey. You didn’t use me. I wanted to do this. I went in eyes wide open.”
I look up at him. “Leah and Dylan reminded me tonight that I’ve said some crappy things about you. I had the wrong impression for a long time. I’m sorry for that. It’s hard to admit when you’ve been so wrong about someone. And I was wrong about you for a long time. For the record, I think you’re the best person I’ve ever known. No matter whether you’d like to be my friend or not. I’ve got some things to figure out, I haven’t been wrong about just you, but a whole lot of stuff. I doubt you were wondering, but in case you were, I like you, Josh Lewenthal. I like you exactly as you are and I don’t think you should change a thing.”
He lets out a short huff of air and makes a surprised sound. “I like you too.”
I smile up at him. “Exactly as I am?”
“Maybe you could stop hogging all the lime Jell-O?”
I jab my elbow into his side and he gives me his first genuine smile of the night.
“Exactly as you are,” he says.
Then he pulls me down into his chest and leans back into the couch cushions. Within minutes he’s asleep. The warmth of his arms and the steadiness of his breath lull me and I fall asleep in his arms.
27
The house is more crowded than it is during the New Year’s resolution party. All the food that Mom, Leah and I made yesterday is spread out on the dining room table for the after-funeral reception. There has to be at least a hundred people here. My mom had my dad pull out the plastic coverings this morning to shield the furniture and the carpet.
“Have you seen Josh?” asks Leah.
She leans over the dining room table, grabs a plate and piles it with pimento olives.
“No. Not since the funeral.”
My family sat next to him at the graveside service. Josh didn’t look at me, or at anyone really, for the entire service. But during the last song, Amazing Grace, he dropped his hand, reached over and brushed the back of his knuckles against mine.
“I guess he wanted to stay a little longer,” Leah says. Then she sees Mary and Maemie tearing through the living room chasing after a remote-control car. “Girls, not inside,” she calls. She turns back to me. “About last night.”
“Hmm?”
I left Josh’s shortly after sunrise. I have to admit that when I woke up at five, I pretended to be asleep for a few moments so that I could keep lying next to him. But then he stretched and looked down at me and said, “You slept with me, Gem. Does that mean I get breakfast?”
I blinked up at him and realized that he was joking and trying his best to face one of the hardest days of his life. I made him chocolate chip pancakes, bacon and coffee. While we ate at the kitchen table he rested his foot against my ankle and stroked his arch up and down my calf. I looked up at him and flushed, but he just smiled at me and kept eating.
When I got back to my parents’， I showered and put on one of the new dresses I bought with Carly. A conservative navy and black dress with heels.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said to Mom.”
“Oh. Right.” I shake myself out of my thoughts and focus on my sister.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Gem. I always thought Mom was the only one who thought you needed fixing, but I realized yesterday that I’ve thought it too. It’s why I never really told her to stop. Truth be told, I was sometimes envious of you. It’s hard having four kids. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed. It’s hard, Gem. I’ve wanted to tell you but you’re so busy with your job and your life in the city and sometimes I wish I had what you had. No concerns.”
I give my sister a stunned look. As usual, she looks perfectly put together in a lovely black dress with her hair in a braided twist. I’ve always judged her as having the perfect life, being the perfect mother, I thought she had no concerns.
I was wrong about her too. My own sister.
Suddenly it hits me. Each of us, all the people in our lives, are like icebergs floating near each other. We only see the top of the icebergs, the faces we show the world, and the rest, all our inner lives and secret fears remain hidden underneath the surface.