Next Day Gone

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Next Day Gone Page 7

by J C Wing


  “I don’t think I need anything,” Willow answered. “I’m good on clothes and stuff. If I need a new dress, I have the one you bought me for my birthday.”

  Corinne finished her toast and wiped her hands on a napkin. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “That’ll do nicely for the dinner on Saturday.”

  “She’s all shopped out anyway,” Elias interjected.

  “I can’t imagine Willow spending two days in a row at the mall,” Alex said with a smile. “I was surprised you went at all.”

  “I was pleased,” Corinne told him. “I’d much rather have her out with her female friends shopping and getting facials than out playing baseball with the boys.”

  Willow shook her head in irritation. “I like playing baseball with the boys.”

  “Well, maybe you should spend more time with your girlfriends. You had fun yesterday, right?”

  Willow bit her bottom lip. She spent plenty of time at the mall, but when she went it was either with Edie, who liked to go to the fun stores and shop for gag gifts, books or CD’s. When she didn’t go with Edie, it was Marcus, Josh and Tyler she met up with. The only places the four of them went together were the food court and the arcade.

  “I did have fun yesterday,” Willow agreed truthfully. “What are you doing here, anyway?” She looked at her brother in the hopes that he could change the subject.

  “Eating,” Elias answered. “And I thought you might like to take your car out for a spin.”

  Willow grinned and downed the rest of her juice. “You about done?”

  Both Elias and Alex laughed, but Corinne struggled the see the humor.

  “You haven’t eaten a single thing,” she said.

  “I’m not hungry,” Willow told her, never taking her eyes off her brother.

  “Okay,” Elias told her, eating the last bite of eggs on his plate. “Let’s go and make sure you’re ready to pass your driving test tomorrow.”

  Just as Willow suspected, there was teasing come Monday morning, but most of it was in good fun. If there’s one thing kids are sympathetic to it’s annoying parents.

  “You’re feeling pretty good about yourself, aren’t you?” Edie asked her.

  “I’ll feel even better tomorrow when I have my license.” Willow took a long swallow from the carton of chocolate milk she’d purchased.

  “We should do something this weekend.”

  “Would that I could. I have the Biltmore thing.”

  “Oh, yeah. But, hey, horseback riding and tons of good food, right?”

  “And being dressed up like a doll and having to be social and perfect for my mom.”

  “And your dad’s pride and joy.” Edie shook her head. “Forget about your mom, Will. This is your dad’s thing.”

  Willow finished off the chocolate milk just as the bell rang. “Yeah, okay,” she conceded. “Since you put it that way.”

  Edie grinned at her and the two of them gathered their books and trash before heading off to class.

  It’s been said that in 1887, George Washington Vanderbilt left Staten Island to visit Asheville in the hopes of finding a place to build a country home. According to historians, he fell in love with the Blue Ridge Mountains, and over the next six years, a legion of craftsmen built a 250 room, 135,280 square foot French Renaissance castle. Some country home this stately place turned out to be.

  On Christmas Eve, Vanderbilt opened the house to his friends and family, who ooh and aahed at the thirty-five bedrooms, forty-three bathrooms, and sixty-five fireplaces. Or so Willow assumed as she read through the pamphlet she’d picked up while coming through the main lobby upon her arrival on Friday evening.

  Three years later, George Vanderbilt married Edith Stuyvesant Dresser in Paris. After their honeymoon, they came back to North Carolina and made the castle their home. In 1900, the couple’s only child, a bouncing baby girl by the name of Cornelia, was born. When the little girl turned fourteen, her father died, and ten years after that, she got married. Both of Cornelia’s sons were born in the house, and when the youngest was two, the family opened the property to the public. During the war, priceless works were brought from the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC and stored in the Biltmore home. In 1971, the first vines were planted on the property, and in ‘83, the Biltmore Estate Wine Company was founded.

  Willow found this history fascinating, and she used the weekend to explore the grounds and the house. She even liked the roving groups of carolers singing Christmas songs, although it was only November. She really enjoyed the bonfire she attended on Friday night with s’mores and cider, especially since her mother decided not to accompany her when she realized Willow had plans to go with a group of people her own age. She’d been promised hiking but had to settle for a walk along the French Broad River. She didn’t complain too loudly about that though because her mother was off shopping with some of the spouses and Willow got to spend some time with her dad.

  “This isn’t so bad,” she admitted as they walked side by side. “It’s not Crabtree Falls, but it’s nice.”

  He nodded his head. “It’s a beautiful estate.”

  “And I’m not wearing a dress.”

  Alex laughed. “Not right now you’re not.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Willow smiled. “I know. Your big dinner is tonight, and I’ll wear whatever Mom wants me to as long as she doesn’t ask me to go visit Santa again.”

  “Santa?”

  “Interesting that she didn’t tell you about that. At the bandstand. She was hoping for a photo op, but I had to decline. I’m not interested in sitting on an old man’s lap, even someone claiming to be Santa Claus.”

  Alex bent to pick up a stone and Willow watched as he tried to skip it over the river. “Maybe especially someone claiming to be Santa Claus.”

  “I know, right?”

  The two of them laughed, but Alex grew serious quickly.

  “You’re the youngest. Not really a kid anymore, but still our baby.”

  Willow kicked at the ground looking for flat rocks. Alex wasn’t having much luck because of the flow of the river, but she bent and gathered several anyway.

  “When you’re young, adults are always telling you that time goes by too fast.” He selected a rock from Willow’s palm. “But when you’re a kid, time drags. Not only does that statement get old, but it holds no truth.” He flipped his wrist and the rock hit the water, skipped once, then disappeared. “You’ll be annoyed by the cliché—as true as it is—until you are at least as old as I am. Your mom is trying to keep you young. Santa is childhood magic.”

  Willow listened to what her dad told her, and she even understood it. Still, she couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not this dude.”

  Alex caught her gaze and the two of them began to laugh. He wrapped an arm around his daughter, bringing her close to him. She felt him press a kiss against the side of her head.

  “You don’t think you’re growing up quickly at all, but trust me, you are. You’re no longer little, baby girl, but do your mom and me a favor and stay young for as long as you can.”

  Before breakfast the next morning. Corinne poked her head into Willow’s bedroom.

  “Time to get up,” she said. “It would be best if you were all packed up before we went down to breakfast. We have a gathering to attend after we eat, then we’ll be heading home. Check out is at noon. We don’t want to have to pay extra because you’re not ready to go.”

  Willow grunted in response and waited until her mom moved away from the door. “Subtle as a heart attack like usual,” she said under her breath. “Do I have time for a shower,” she yelled.

  “If you’re quick,” was the response.

  “Don’t bother,” Alex hollered from the sitting room. “Willow, come here.”

  The tone of her father’s voice told her not to argue, and Willow plodded out to where he sat in front of a large television screen.

  “What’s happened?” Corinne asked, sitting on the couch next to her husban
d.

  “The body of Jocelyn Porter aged seventeen from Redwood, just outside of Asheville, was found early this morning near a dumpster in Colfer Park,” the anchorman reported.

  Willow crawled into one of the two matching Queen Anne chairs as Alex turned the volume up.

  “I know that poor girl’s father,” he said, his eyes on the screen. “He’s a well-known oncologist. You met him and Jocelyn, too, just yesterday.”

  Corinne gasped. “Oh my god, you’re right. His wife and I shopped together after lunch.”

  Willow blinked as photos of the girl flashed on the screen. Her hair was a soft blonde, pulled up in front, the rest of it laying in thick curls around her shoulders. She had a bright, white smile and big hazel eyes. A junior at Redwood High, although Willow was sure she hadn’t met her until they’d come to the conference.

  “The details are limited right now, Bob, but the police are saying this was definitely foul play, and they are treating it as a homicide.” She went on to include details about Jocelyn’s family, the most pertinent ones the same things Alex had shared with them a moment ago.

  “How devastating,” he said, shaking his head.

  Willow tried to focus on what the anchorman was saying, but all she could think about was what her dad had told her the day before about staying young as long as she could.

  Poor Jocelyn Porter would never get the chance to be older than seventeen. She would be forever young.

  BLACK OUT AT HUNT HILL

  Little Blue. That’s what she’d named him. And the car was definitely a him.

  All the time behind the wheel with Elias had given Willow confidence, and she was a good driver. She knew her mother was watching her closely, waiting for any excuse to take the car away from her. Corinne was struggling with the autonomy Little Blue provided, and Willow knew it. She was careful about curfew and skipped fewer classes. She only had to deal with economics until winter break, anyway, she reasoned. She could handle anything for that long.

  The idea of employment had crossed Willow’s mind many times, but the plan had been to finish her sophomore year, then find a summer job. Asking for gas money was quickly losing its appeal though, so when Elias came by the house one Saturday afternoon and told her there was a job open at the Hunt Hill Gym, Willow decided maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to apply.

  “A gym?” Corinne asked, her nose scrunched in disapproval.

  “They’re looking for front desk help,” Elias told her. He nudged Willow with his elbow. “You might have to fold a few towels, file some stuff and actually be nice to people.”

  “Hmmm,” Willow said with a shake of her head. “The filing and folding I can do, but being nice to people?”

  Elias chuckled. “Yeah, you’d probably get in trouble if you told the big dumb jocks what you really thought about them.”

  “Ah, you know I’m nice to all big dumb jocks except for you and Parker.”

  “Is that where the two of you work out?” Corinne interrupted the banter.

  Elias looked at his mom, the smile still on his face. “Yes, ma’am. I already put in a word for Will with the owner.” His eyes moved back to Willow. “He’s there today if you wanna go talk to him. It’s minimum wage, but he’ll work around school. It’ll give you a little cash and keep you out of trouble.”

  After a bit of persuading, Corinne gave Willow her reluctant approval and Willow took off for the gym. An hour later, she was gainfully employed four evenings during the week and eight hours on Saturdays.

  “It works out perfectly,” she told Jason when she called him from the parking lot. The sun was warm as it poured in through her partially opened window. “I work from four to seven Tuesday through Friday. If you stick around after you close up the visitor’s center, I can meet you there before eight, and won’t have to be home until eleven. At least on Fridays. I don’t have to hitch anymore, so you won’t have to wait around for me, and I can bring dinner to you once in a while.”

  “Tacos?” Jason asked hopefully.

  Willow laughed. “Tacos it is. This Friday.”

  She looked up and watched people walk in and out of her new place of employment. Large, muscular He-Man kind of guys, and average businessmen came and went. Older women who Willow suspected were interested in the water aerobics classes, and svelte, ponytailed twenty somethings in their leggings and Reebok Freestyle sneakers pranced in and out.

  “Mom’s boyfriend invited her to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  Willow hadn’t thought much about Thanksgiving, then realized it was just a week away. “Will you be alone for the holiday?”

  “Well …” He drew the word out. “I was invited, too.”

  Willow raised her eyebrows. “Really?” She lowered the visor to shield her eyes from the late afternoon sun, then squinted when she spotted another gym member push his way through the front doors. Zac Roth. She’d seen him at school of course, but she’d avoided him. It felt like he’d done the same with her. Edie told her he’d shown up at the birthday bash, but Willow was happy she hadn’t been aware of his presence. She cleared her throat, her eyes following the blond boy as he walked through the parking lot. “Do you think you’re gonna go?”

  “Mom really wants me to. I haven’t decided yet. I suppose your family goes all out.”

  Zac turned his head and Willow watched him as he did a double take. When his eyes fell on hers, his steps faltered. She felt compelled to hold his gaze, let him know she wasn’t afraid of him. That wasn’t entirely true. She felt a tightening in her chest when she thought about that night in the pool house, but she didn’t want him to know that.

  “Uh, yeah,” she admitted, her eyes still on Zac. “My mom’s all over that. Big family holiday … she goes crazy for that stuff.”

  “I never got that.” Jason paused. “It’s always just been me and Mom and whatever guy happened to be sniffin’ around at the time. This year it’s Paul.”

  Willow was the first one to break eye contact. She pulled her gaze away from Zac and pretended to be playing with the radio. She didn’t know how long he continued to watch her, or if he’d turned at the same time she had.

  “She’s been with Paul for a while now,” she told Jason, thinking that maybe this was a good thing. She could almost hear him shrug.

  “It’ll end. It always does. And no matter what happens, it’ll be his fault, and all guys’ll be assholes, and she’ll say she’s never gonna date again. To hell with ‘em all. And then the next one will show up, and she’ll fall head over heels in love, and he’ll be the one.”

  Willow had heard this before and didn’t know any better this time how to respond than she had the previous times.

  “And then the only guy that will be an asshole is me because I won’t share her enthusiasm.”

  “Hey, maybe the food will be good,” Willow offered, trying to throw some sunshine on his dismal outlook. “It won’t be a wasted Thursday if there’s decent pie at the end of it.”

  Jason scoffed, but when he spoke again, his voice had lost the hard edge. “Where are you?”

  “Still at the gym. You were the first person I called after I got the job.”

  “Feel like hiking the falls?”

  Willow grinned and all thoughts of Zac and Thanksgiving vanished.

  “Always,” she told him. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Life fell into a rhythm. With only a month to go before the end of the semester and winter break, Willow focused on her new work schedule, Friday nights with Jason, and keeping up with her grades.

  Basketball season was in full swing, and Edie was busy with cheer, her boyfriend, Jake, and the ever-challenging concept of geometry. Willow, feeling guilty that she’d had less time for her bestie since taking the job at Hunt Hill, used her company discount to enroll them in step aerobics classes on Saturday afternoons. She was hesitant at first, they were both entertained by watching the other try to keep up with the instructor.

  The Saturday before Christmas, the girls we
re deeply immersed in class. They’d lived la vida loca, been too sexy, and then they were vogueing, dripping sweat and stealing glances at the large clock that slowly ticked the minutes away from its perch high on the wall. They were about ten minutes from finishing when Willow stumbled, her toe not quite clearing the top edge of the step. She suddenly felt nauseated and her vision blinked, like the screen of an old television set when the power button is pushed. Then she collapsed in a heap on the floor.

  “Willow!”

  Edie jumped over her step and fell to her knees next to her friend. She rolled Willow over, propped her head in her own lap. She pulled sweaty strands of blonde hair from Willow’s forehead and cheeks while talking to her. She looked up and met eyes with the instructor. “She needs water. Can I get a towel?”

  In another thirty seconds, Willow had regained consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked up at Edie who appeared to be upside down.

  “What happened?”

  “Alanis Morisette,” Edie answered. “She’s a scary broad. It’s hard to work out when someone is yelling at you like she does.” Edie looked up at the instructor again and gave her a half-hearted smile. “Maybe you should take that track out of the rotation.”

  Edie helped Willow sit up.

  “Not too fast,” she cautioned. “Here, sip this.” She handed Willow the bottle of water someone had placed on the ground near where they sat.

  Willow sipped at the water as her body cooled down and Edie watched her. “I don’t know why that happened,” Willow said once the bottle was half drained.

  “You’re so dramatic.” Edie smiled, showing the crooked tooth she hated so much. “It’s kinda hot in here. I was hoping something would happen to cut class short. You mighta overdone it, though.”

  Willow upended the bottle and finished it off in two big gulps. “Help me up.”

  Edie stood and grabbed Willow’s outstretched hands. She pulled her up and kept a hold of her. “Let’s get you in the shower,” she said, leading her to the locker room.

 

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