“He lied to you about everything.”
“Not exactly.”
With a shuddering breath, Lucy closed her eyes. She did not want to hear that her mother knew about the attacks—even in a roundabout way. If her mother had an inkling of what the future would bring, Lucy couldn’t handle it. Imagining her mother as the naïve housewife impervious to the truth wasn’t a better alternative. Neither meshed with what she knew of Mama Maxine. Rewriting her father into his new role was bad enough: Lucy couldn’t fathom not having anything remain the same.
“I won’t try to dumb it down for you, Lucy. Okay? Your dad told me that he was working on something top secret. That even telling me that little bit put my life in danger. He said that he sold his soul to save his family, and that I had two choices. Trust him implicitly and live. Or try to go out on my own, with no guarantee of safety.”
“Some choices.”
“Exactly.”
“You never even let on that something bad was happening.”
Maxine shrugged. “I didn’t know a damn thing. I thought your dad was being hyperbolic or paranoid.”
“You were wrong,” Lucy said with bite, but her mother ignored it.
“It’s been known to happen.”
The waiter reappeared without warning and slid a basket of croissants between them. Lucy’s mouth began to salivate at the sight of the bread and she reached out and grabbed one, shoving the warm pieces of flaky dough into her mouth. She noticed he had also brought butter and Lucy’s eyes widened. She dipped a piece in butter and swallowed it down with minimal chewing. She went back for another.
“Are you ready to order?” the boy asked.
Lucy, her mouth full, turned to the boy and stared at him. She was suddenly full of questions.
“Who are you?” she asked him. And when the boy didn’t answer, Lucy set the rest of her croissant down and turned her body to face him. He shifted away, his eyes scanning the other tables, perhaps hoping for some reprieve. “Where did you come from?”
Maxine put her hand across the table and tapped twice, but Lucy ignored her mother’s not-so-subtle plea.
“Floor D?” the boy answered. “Did you know what you want to eat?”
“Are you a waiter robot?” she asked. “Another one of my dad’s science experiments? Did they breed you in this dome?”
“Excuse me?” his voice shook a bit.
She slid forward in her chair. “I mean, I asked where you came from and you said floor six…and you just want to serve me food. But what about before? West Coast? East Coast? Is your whole family here in this place? Where were you the day of the virus and the bombs?”
“Lucy—” Maxine’s voice was full of warning.
“I just want to know. Because I can’t stop thinking about it and why is everyone else acting like the world hasn’t ended?”
“Lucy. Larkspur. King. You are embarrassing yourself.”
“Should I come back?” the boy asked Maxine and she nodded and was off like a shot, shoving his tablet into his apron and walking toward double-doors that led to what Lucy presumed was the kitchen.
“You want me to play nice, but I don’t even know what’s going on, Mom. You want me to be happy that I’m here, but I don’t know what here is! Who are these people?”
“Survivors.”
“This place comes with its own waiters?”
“They are here just like you and me.”
“Do they know Dad killed their families?” Lucy hissed.
Maxine stood up and smoothed out her dress. Then she walked calmly over to Lucy and leaned close. She was so close that Lucy could feel her hot breath like a punctuation mark against her face. “As your mother, who loves you and lost her mind waiting for your return, I am begging you to shut up. Shut up. Please, please,” Maxine was near tears, her eyes pleading. “We are here for a brunch. I had to make some trades and deals to get us in the Sky Room today…because I needed it to be special. I want something to be special for you. Do not make a scene. Please, listen, do not do this.” Lucy had seen her mother angry, worried, frustrated, and irate. She had followed her mother’s moods like star signs in a book. But if there was one emotion Maxine banished from her life it was panic. And yet, behind her eyes, just below the surface of calm, cool, and collected, there was an undercurrent of that banished emotion.
“What happens here?” Lucy asked in a whisper. She looked at her mother’s skin, soft and creamy without a stitch of makeup; then she looked down at the green tiled floor. “Why are you afraid?”
“I will not lose you again,” Maxine said softly and she tried to place her hand on Lucy’s shoulder, but she shied away.
“Why are you afraid?” Lucy repeated.
“I’m not afraid,” Maxine sighed. “I’m cautious and I’m not careless. I know who I’m dealing with, and I’m being smart. And you should be too. This is our entire future.”
Then she stepped backward and stretched, crossing her arms over her body. She had fortified herself against anything else Lucy was going to lob at her—her eyes narrowed, her body was grounded—but there were just enough cracks showing that Lucy felt all her fight leave her.
When her mother’s emotions were already heightened, it didn’t take much to trigger an even greater storm. Whatever her mother felt about this place, she wasn’t going to divulge it to Lucy in the middle of the Sky Room.
Without comment, Lucy grabbed the paper menu and scanned the brunch items. Pancakes and scones, French toast, eggs. She wondered at the food supply and how the restaurant operated. She wondered many things, but she was afraid her questions would set her mother on a rampage. So, she filed them away.
The young waiter returned. And they ordered. Just like they would have a few months ago, at a real restaurant, above ground.
“Thank you,” the boy replied without making eye contact and Lucy watched as he flitted about to the other tables. Maybe he had been a waiter before the Release; was he just continuing his role in a new place? A new world? Same life, new place. Something about that notion depressed Lucy.
What was the point of surviving if everyone kept falling back into the ruts of their old life?
A murmur spread among the diners and Lucy looked up and saw Huck, with Gordy and Blair, enter the Sky Room. Her eyes followed as the trio was led to a table in the corner. They sat and arranged themselves, and like a wave, the others in the room began to take note of their presence—chatting in more hushed tones, leaning into the tables, nodding in their direction. The shift in energy was clear.
Blair held her body straight and tall, holding herself up with perfect posture. It was as if she was a marionette and the puppeteer from above was pulling her string taut and rigid. At any moment a string could break and Blair’s body would tumble into a heap. The young woman brushed a piece of hair off her forehead and smiled at her brother and her father, then leaned in and laughed.
It was like she knew she was being watched. Every action was for show.
The sight of her made Lucy’s skin crawl, her heart rate increase, and her breath become shallower. She instantly felt a pain in her chest; without thinking about it, she brought her hands up to her chest and monitored the rise and fall of her breathing. Her mind wanted to put her back in the tank with the waters rising, submerging her, but Lucy pushed it away—Blair was irrevocably tied to her memories of drowning. That pain was stamped on her brain and Lucy tried to push away the growing anxiety.
Huck scanned the room, waving at the people and smiling. He made eye contact with Lucy, and she dropped her hands from her chest and blushed, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He nodded deeply to her, acknowledging her presence with solemn reverence. All eyes in the Sky Room turned to Lucy, eager to see who was deserving of Huck’s focused attention: including Blair, whose demeanor shifted, her smile faded.