by Stacia Leigh
“You shouldn’t be here,” Suzy whispered. “We’ll get caught, and I’ll be in trouble. I can’t risk—”
“I wanted to check on you, make sure you’re okay,” he said, touching her arm gently.
“I’m scared.” Suzy pulled the blankets up to her chin.
“Scared of what?”
“What will happen to my mom? Where will I go? What will people say when they find out? Everything seems so out of control.”
“I’m here for you. Don’t worry. I’ll talk to my parents, okay? We have this extra space, and when my sisters come back to visit, you can always stay in my room, and I can sleep on the couch.” His fingers glided down her arm, tickling her skin all the way down to her fingertips. He wove his hand with hers and drew her toward him until they were face to face on the pillow. “I’m falling for you, you know? I feel it…here.” He placed her hand on his bare chest, over his heart, where it beat steadily. His skin was warm and smooth.
“I feel something, too,” she whispered. Her eyes were big and searching in the dark. There was nothing to see and everything to feel. Her heart skittered in her chest, and she reached out blindly to J.J.’s face. Her fingers traced the shell of his ear, the prickly whiskers on his jaw, and stroked over the soft bumps of his lips. She felt different touching him, stripped, raw, cracked open. Her personal fortress had crumbled into another pile of dust.
“You do?” J.J.’s breath heated her palm.
“Yes, but it kind of hurts.” Suzy took her hand away and rested it over her chest. The rapid beats slowed to normal. She’d opened Pandora’s box and all her mom’s secrets flew out. J.J.’d witnessed them, yet he was still able to see the “real Suz” through the mess. The cardboard, the rat poop, the tins, and the freaky dolls…they weren’t a part of her. She wasn’t a fake or a pretender; she was herself, and J.J. wanted to be with her.
“Hurts so good,” J.J. murmured.
“Yes.” She laughed softly. Her nerve endings tingled as if coming out of a deep sleep. The room was dark, but she felt lit up and free. She sipped in a long breath and savored it.
The lights flicked on as suddenly as a bolt of lightning, and J.J.’s dad filled the doorway.
“J.J., get out here right now,” he said in a low voice.
J.J. cursed and swung out of bed, wearing only boxers, low on his hips. Suzy squeezed her eyes shut and clenched the blankets under her nose. This didn’t look good. She scooted to the edge and sat upright.
“We were only talking. That’s it. I swear, Mr. Radborne.” She blinked against the brightness.
“J.J., move it.” His dad grumbled as J.J. trudged out into the hall. The door clicked shut, and Suzy sat, not picking at her hangnails, not crying, not numb, but waiting. What next? What about J.J.?
The bad thing about living in a trailer house: the walls were thin. Few secrets could be kept, especially when the voices were distinct and close by.
The good thing about living in a trailer house: the walls were thin, and she could hear everything.
“What in the hell are you doing? That girl is in our care. She’s our responsibility. She’s vulnerable right now…” Mr. Radborne’s voice shook with restraint. “…and you’re in there—”
“It’s not what you’re thinking. We’re only talking.”
“Talking? If you want to talk, you don’t go into her bedroom in the middle of the night. You think I was born yesterday? I know how babies are made, okay. I’ve got six of ‘em. You want to go there?”
“Man, you’re overreacting. We weren’t doing anything. She’s scared. I wanted to be there for her, that’s it.” J.J. raised his voice. “Because I care.”
“Keep it down, or you’ll wake Oopsie,” his dad muttered and sighed heavily. “Caring is letting her sleep.”
“Caring is being there.” J.J. gritted out.
It went quiet for a moment, and Suzy imagined the two guys in the hallway, their green eyes flickering against each other, one sizing up the other.
“Dad, she can’t go back there. She just can’t.” Silence again. Then, J.J. said, “I want her to stay with us.”
“Tonight we sleep. Tomorrow we sit down and hash things out. We all have a lot on our minds, and I’m not going to lie. This is a tough situation. So I want you to go to your room, and I want you to stay there…got it? I don’t need any more complications.”
“I’m not letting her go. Suzy and I are fused. We’re together.”
Suzy’s heart revved up in her chest, and she swallowed back a hard lump that clogged up in her throat. Together. He’d blurted it out there, straightforward and with confidence, as if sharing his emotions, even with his dad, were effortless.
“Sweet Mary,” Mr. Radborne muttered. “You used to be the easy one. What happened? I just said no more complications, didn’t I? How is future-me supposed to get a decent night’s sleep if you’re both in my house, sneaking around? I’d have to check on you every hour…it would be a full-time job, J.J.”
“What can I do?” J.J.’s voice pleaded hoarsely.
“I don’t know, son,” he said. “I don’t have all the answers. But tomorrow, we talk.”
Chapter 20: The Key
Suzy sat on the edge of the honeycomb quilt, still staring out the window into the twilight. She’d spent at least thirty minutes, watching the sky turn from a dark navy to a purplish dusk. The birds had awoke and tweets and chirps echoed on the other side of the glass. Sunlight hovered on the brink below the horizon, and the last she checked her phone, it was five in the morning.
She stood dressed in yesterday’s threads, her fleece jacket zipped up to her chin. The brass key to her back door was in her hand, and she rubbed the grooves with her thumb.
She had to see her mom.
Marsha had no one else around, nobody who cared except one daughter and a very attentive ex-husband. Mom didn’t even have parents to lean on, or her little brother. They were all killed in that raging fire a long time ago. Her mom almost never spoke of it, and who could blame her? It sounded horrible.
But burying herself under a heap of trash was not the answer. Life kept going, ready or not.
Suzy folded the note she’d written to J.J., telling him to go on to school without her. She set it on the bed and before the house began to stir, she slipped out.
The damp air chilled her bed-warmed skin, and as she traipsed through the grass, the dew soaked into the hem of her pants. After a quick hop over the rickety fence, she stopped below her dark bedroom window. It seemed so natural to enter the trailer house this way that she’d forgotten the very thing pressed warmly in her grasp. Suzy pulled her hand from her fleece pocket and stared at the key her mom had given her. Given. It had been a gift, and three weeks ago, she’d devoured the sentiment. Cherished it. Coveted it.
Now, should she use it? Go in and risk her mom kicking her out for good? Would Marsha demand the key back?
Suzy turned to look at the double-wide Radborne house, half expecting to see J.J. standing on the porch, sporting gray sweats and a bed-head while waving encouragement. But of course, he wasn’t there. He was snug as a bug and probably on the tail-end of an ibuprofen dream for his neck and finger. His puffy lip wasn’t so puffy anymore and was nearly back to normal. Back to being firm and smooth—
Stop thinking about J.J.’s mouth, Suz. She’d made it this far, to the corner of #17. She had the key in her hand, and she had to see her mom. Might as well do it. She pulled in a deep breath, walked to the back door, and unlocked it.
The inside was dark, quiet, and held a chill since the heater hadn’t kicked on yet. She’d forgotten her phone at J.J.’s house, so maybe it was five-thirty or a quarter to six? Her mom would still be asleep, then.
Suzy stepped over the boots in the mudroom, nudged the salt and pepper shakers into alignment on the curio cabinet shelf, then peeked into her mom’s room.
“Mom,” Suzy whispered. The mound on the bed didn’t move. It was laundry. Suzy skirted around the bins o
f fabric and squeezed past the green velvet chair, laden with clothes, to peek inside the master bathroom. Door open, lights out, and…nope. Mom wasn’t in there.
Where could she have gone? Last night, Suzy had escaped across the yard to J.J.’s house, but where could her mom run off to? She didn’t have any close friends and obviously no relatives. Mom had been angry and upset…would she hurt herself? No. No, she wouldn’t do that. But, what if she got into a car accident? Oh, God. Suzy’s heart rattled in her chest, and suddenly, the room was too small. She pushed out of Marsha’s space and stumbled into the kitchen.
“Mom!” Suzy shouted with a puff of urgency.
There was a soft creak at the other end of the house. Her bedroom.
“Mom?” Suzy ducked around the arm of the lamp and avoided shaking the dust off the shade. Don’t breathe—don’t sneeze—don’t get dirty. She stepped over the 12-cup coffee maker and stopped. There was a creak, and it sounded like the springs from her mattress. Someone was in her room. She opened a palm over her chest and breathed through her mouth, setting her foot softly and quietly on the carpet.
“Suzette? Honey, is that you?” her mom’s voice whispered from the twilit room.
Suzy paused in the doorway, her eyes adjusting to the low light. Her mom had been asleep in her bed. Was she moving in here, now? Suzy rested her hands on her hips and shivered, not from a chill but from the angry heat that rushed through her veins. So her mom finally got what she wanted, Suzy’s space. The space her dad cleared for her. She hadn’t even moved out yet, and in one single night, Marsha marched in here like she owned the place.
“What are you doing in my—”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I came in here.” Marsha scooted closer to the wall and opened the covers, inviting Suzy in. “When you were five, you’d climb inside our bed, such a cuddle-bunny. Remember? Come on.” She patted the flannel sheet and coaxed, “Pretend you’re a little kid again, and you need me.”
“Pretend.” Suzy huffed but straightened, easing her hands down off her hips until they dangled at her sides. She’d pretended with J.J., hadn’t she? She’d pretended she was in deep-like with him, and then she was. The act became real. Sort of similar to the smile effect, where even if people weren’t feeling it, they could push their cheeks up and work those muscles. Pretend until it’s true. Act. Do it. Make it so.
Suzy stepped out of her shoes and climbed in beside her mom, the blankets dropped onto her, pressing the damp hem of her jeans coldly around her ankles. But the rest of her was cloaked in a toasty-warm cocoon that smelled of cinnamon and early morning air.
“Mom, I don’t hate you…” Yesterday, she’d been so riled she may have said it out loud. She couldn’t remember. She’d thought it. She’d definitely thought it, but she didn’t mean it. Was it so wrong to want Marsha to put her only daughter first, to love her?
“Shhh. Let’s not talk. Let’s just be together. For now.” Marsha said to the ceiling as her hand snaked under the covers to comfort Suzy’s. After a moment, she giggled. “It’s like we’re having a sleep over, isn’t it? Like we’ve stayed up all night, and now we’re finally ready for some shuteye, right when the new day is here.”
“But sleep overs are supposed to be fun.” Suzy rolled onto her side to study the black smudges under her mom’s eyes, the auburn hair tousled on the pillowcase, the gentle swoop of her nose. Mom tucked both hands under her cheek, silent and watchful. They studied each other, blue eyes, scanning back and forth. Waves of emotions, like sadness, resignation, anxiety, and frustration surged and released, then eased away.
“They are,” Mom finally said. “And I missed out on all of them, didn’t I?”
“Pretty much.”
“I know,” Mom whispered with a nod. “I’m older now, and I suddenly realized I keep getting older. You’re a junior in high school.” She shook her head like the idea completely astounded her. “How did this happen? I wanted a second chance and…” she swallowed hard. “I hope I didn’t blow it.”
“You got close.” Suzy’s eyes burned, and she blinked hard at the ceiling. “You got really close.”
“I was supposed to see this counselor. Your dad made me promise. But I thought…after he left…I thought I could do it on my own. I bought books and videos of other people—” She stopped, and Suzy looked at her mom to see a tear leak out of her eye and run over the bridge of her nose. “I want my family back.” Mom sniffed.
“Do you…do you love me?” Suzy’s voice quavered weakly, and she cleared her throat before another word couldn’t get past the growing lump.
“Of course. I do.” Mom reached out and stroked the fleece covering Suzy’s arm.
“You never say it.”
“I’m sorry.” Mom closed her eyes. “I’m not very expressive like that—”
“Do you trust me?” Suzy asked, and Mom’s eyes opened, but she didn’t answer. Her eyes were wide and round and seemed to drink in the moment as if Suzy held the key that would make everything good and right. Mom nodded.
“You do need a counselor like dad said, and I’m not just saying it because he did…you know? The Blue Room and your stuff…you treat them like they’re memories, but you’re stuck under them.”
“I thought at first it wasn’t that bad, but then your dad took you and left.” Mom glanced away. “I decided I liked all my things out where I could see them, to remember, and if you or Nick didn’t like it, well tough luck. That was your problem. But after seeing the Blue Room…how things were back then. We were happy once. We were a family. I see now how things can be different, and I…I really don’t want to lose you. Not again.”
“I’m here, and I want to help you,” Suzy said in a low voice.
“I know, and I tell…um. I want to—I do…love you, Suzette.” The words hung out there like stringy dough, awkward and weird and hard to hold onto. Her mom’s lips trembled. But they were turned up, not in a pressed on, forced on, fake-it-’til-you-make-it way, but into a real live, genuine smile.
Suzy’s rib cage relaxed, and the long, bottled-up tension held inside evaporated. “If you want me to live here—”
“I’ll call the counselor,” Mom said earnestly.
“Saying it isn’t the same as doing it.”
“I know. I’ll do it. I’ll call him today.” Her mom reached out and patted the back of Suzy’s hand and with her own lids growing heavy, Suzy watched her mom’s eyes close, and things went quiet. The room lightened with the new day, but the slumber party had just begun.
Rap, rap, rap.
“Oh, my God.” Her mom jerked upright, pulling the covers with her. “Did you hear that?”
Suzy forced her eyelids open and squinted at her nightstand. Her phone wasn’t there. She patted her fleece jacket; she was fully clothed. She looked at her mom, who was sitting in her bed. What the…?
“Something hit the window.” Mom clutched the front of her nightgown to her chest.
Window?
Suzy flew across the bed and jerked the blinds up. J.J. stood down below, looking freshly scrubbed and groomed in a stark white t-shirt and worn out blue jeans. No jacket for Mr. Cool. It must truly be spring. She slid the window aside and grinned down at him.
“Good morning,” she said, then quickly rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and combed her fingers through her hair. God, she must look like a horror show the way he gaped. Then, his face fell.
“Oh. Uh…hi, Mrs. Blue, I uh…” He shrugged and flashed his palms in the air like he had nothing else to say.
“Why didn’t you knock on the door?” Mom said to him over Suzy’s shoulder.
“Good question…” J.J. crammed his hands into his front pockets and blew out a long breath. “Guess I should’ve.” He untucked one of his hands to clutch at the back of his neck, and his green eyes drew a line to Suzy’s. He lifted his brows innocently and tilted his unshaven chin. “Can I walk you to school?”
Chapter 21: Mr. Cool
The week had gone by all easy
peasy and whatever, but now, J.J. had run himself through the ringer. He’d taken a dump, nicked his jaw while shaving, and sucked up all the hot water taking a prolonged shower. He’d invested hours in prep and primping time for this precise moment.
On his own front porch, he stood and stared at the metal door. A drip of sweat dribbled down his back, and his guts roiled. Man, he might have to put himself through the ringer one more time before the night even got started.
“Are you going in?” Monty stood on the stairs behind him and waved impatiently. “Go in!”
“Shut up, would you? I need a moment here.” J.J. raked his hand through his short, mini-Monty hairdo, The Shaggy Mohawk. The Boss talked him into cutting it, and now there was nothing up there to grab anymore. Nothing left to tousle. What if Suzy hated it?
“Geez.” Monty chuckled. “You act like you’re getting married. Just go in there and stick the corsage on her dress.”
“What’d I say?”
“Just helping.” Monty held up his hands in mock surrender. “Not hurting.”
J.J. pulled his shoulders back and tugged at his collar, releasing the pent-up steam in his white pressed shirt. He fiddled with the corsage carton in his hand. He sucked in his breath. Man, why was he so nervous? It was ridiculous. He’d seen Suzy yesterday in class, and everything was fine. But he’d gotten himself all worked up about talking and feelings, and it created a momentum driving him forward, seemingly out of his control.
What would she say? What would she do?
He was being an idiot. Everything was fine. He raised his hand and knocked.
“You’re knocking?” Monty pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath, but he relaxed his hip against the banister like he had all day. A picture of patience. What a pal.
“I don’t live here anymore.” J.J. clenched his jaws and turned his squinty eyes to Monty. “I’m picking up my hot date, and yeah, I knocked. You got a problem with it, Boss?”