at her. She really did feel bad leaving her and Max, but at least they’d all be happier for the space.
“It might be a good idea to wait,” Weezy said. “Until your money situation is more stable.”
“I’m fine,” Claire said.
“Well, it couldn’t hurt to give yourself a cushion is all I’m saying. Just have a good amount socked away. You could stay for a few more months, get yourself in a better position,” Weezy said.
“I don’t think so,” Claire said.
“Well now, don’t dismiss the idea before you even think about it. You don’t want to find yourself right back in the same situation.” Weezy shook her head just a little.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I’m ready to go and I’m fine. You can’t have all your children living with you for the rest of your life, you know.”
“Claire.” Will gave her a look.
“Who will be our babysitter?” Max asked. He tried to laugh.
Weezy sniffed. “I’m just saying you should think about it, that’s all.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Martha said. “When you look at how much I’ve saved, how easy this buying process has been. It’s worked out great.”
“So, we should have all lived at home for all of our twenties? Sounds like a great plan,” Claire said.
“Don’t be nasty,” Weezy said.
“This is ridiculous.” Claire got up from the table. Cleo was looking down at her plate, like she wanted to disappear, like she’d been dropped in the middle of a loony bin and had no way to escape. Which, really, wasn’t too far from the truth.
Claire grabbed her bag and walked outside, although she didn’t really know where she was going. She hated the way she acted here. As soon as she stepped on the sidewalk, she felt guilty. What a brat she was. They’d let her come back and stay with them, and she couldn’t even stand to listen to their suggestions. Why was she like this? The worst part was she couldn’t help it. The anger seemed to come out of her before she even knew what was happening.
She wandered around for a while, pretending that she didn’t know where she was going to go, before she finally called Fran. “Come over,” he said. That’s what he always said. She loved that.
He had a beer waiting for her on the coffee table. He was just in his boxers, even though the basement stayed pretty cool. “Here,” he said, handing her the beer. “You sounded like you could use one.”
Claire tried to tell him about the fight, about why she felt so bad. He listened, but she knew he didn’t really understand. Fran wasn’t one to feel guilty for being mean to his parents. It made sense, really, since they didn’t seem to think about him so much.
“I just can’t stand being there anymore,” Claire said. “I feel like this horrible person, because I’m annoyed at them all the time. And they’re just trying to help, I know that. But it’s so smothering.” Fran made a noise like he agreed with what she was saying, but she knew he didn’t. She put her feet in his lap and they fell silent, watching TV.
They were lying on the couch a few hours later, when she told him. She was wearing just her bra and underwear, and all she could think about was how scratchy the couch material was on her hip. Fran was lying on his back, and she was on her side, her head on his chest. He was holding a chunk of her hair in his hand, twisting it and then letting it unravel on his fingers. She knew he would fall asleep soon if she didn’t say anything.
“I think I’m moving back to New York,” she said.
“You think?” He held his hand still, and she could imagine her gob of hair in his hand, raised above her head, like it was waiting for something.
“I mean, I know,” she said. She lifted her head to look at him. “I’m moving. Soon, I think. I just need to figure it all out.”
Fran didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He dropped her hair and put his hands behind his head. “I’m not surprised,” he finally said.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, last week you said you were going to kill someone if you had to live in your house much longer.”
“No, I didn’t,” Claire said.
“Yes, you did,” Fran said. “So, before it comes to murder, it’s probably best if you get out of there.”
“I just think it’s time,” Claire