“That’s not a promise you can keep, Hannah. That wasn’t a detail you could leave out!”
“I know. I made a mistake. But you did too, Dad. You knew Emory needed to talk to you, and you got all bent out of shape because I happened to mention it was about a guy!” Now I was in his face, yelling right back at him. “You’re so quick to judge her. What if it had been Alyssa? Would you have said that? Or thought that? If anyone at school had said they needed to talk to you, you would have dropped everything and been there, and listened, and helped. If Emory had come to the church, would it have been different? If she’d met you on your terms, on your turf, like Luke did that first time, would you have taken her seriously? Or would you still have dismissed her because she’d ‘changed’ and our friendship might not be in my ‘best interest’?”
I watched my words sink in. Dad didn’t seem to know what to do once they did. His eyes had been fixed on mine, but he finally broke the connection when he turned his back to me. He began pacing the lawn, combing his fingers through his hair, looking up at the sky.
I kept talking. “I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. And because of me, my best friend has had to live in that house for months, looking over her shoulder, keeping her bedroom door locked, and the whole time, helping her mom plan her wedding.”
Then I heard a click. Dad must have heard it, too, because our heads both snapped in the direction of Emory’s house.
The door opened, and she stepped outside and walked to the edge of the deck. She gripped the railing, and I could see her shoulders heaving. Then she looked up and saw Dad and me.
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and took off running down the stairs, heading straight for us. I moved to meet her halfway and she threw her arms around me, hugging me hard and crying even harder.
Now I felt Dad’s hand on my shoulder. And then I heard his voice. “I’m sorry, Emory,” he whispered. I could tell by the way his voice was shaking that he was crying, too. “I’m sorry for what I said. And for not talking to you that day. I’m so sorry.” Emory squeezed me harder, and I knew that meant Dad had said what she needed to hear.
After a long time, she loosened her hold on me. She took a sharp inhale and wiped her face dry with her shirtsleeve.
“Is your mom okay?” Dad asked.
Emory nodded. “She wants to be alone.”
“Do you?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Good,” he whispered. “Come inside. Tell us what you need us to do.”
He wrapped his arm around her and led her toward our house.
When I woke up, the sun was streaming through Mom’s bedroom window. I blinked a few times and looked over at her. She was still asleep.
“Mom,” I said. When she didn’t move, I sat up and gave her a shake. “It’s time to get up. You have to go to work.”
I shook her again.
“Mom. Time for work.”
That time, she rolled over, facing me. She fluffed up her pillow but didn’t open her eyes. “It’s okay,” she slurred. “I canceled all my clients today.”
I watched her settle back into her pillow, and I wanted to yank it out from underneath her head. There was no way this was going to happen again. Instead I stroked her hair gently and said, “Please, Mom. You have to get up and go to work.”
Then I started telling her all the things her therapist used to tell me to say when she slipped into a funk. “You love your job. You’re good at your job. Cooking for your clients makes you happy.”
That time she opened her eyes and looked at me. “I know all that, Emory.”
“Do you need me to call Dr. Wilson?”
“No. I’m okay, I promise. I just need the day to get my thoughts together, okay? Please.”
She seemed lucid, so I climbed out of her bed, showered, and got ready for school. I texted Hannah with an update, and she said her mom would find an excuse to come over and check on her.
During school, I called her cell phone three times: once after first period, once after third, and again at lunch. She never answered.
As I stared at the phone, willing her to pick up, I felt caught between two conflicting emotions: anger and fear. I was mad with her for making this all about her, checking out on me like that when I needed her most. And at the same time, I was terrified that she’d disappear into her shell like she had before, and that it might be months or years before I saw her again. It all felt horribly familiar.
At lunch, I didn’t have the energy for Luke’s friends, so I took my sandwich to go and followed Charlotte to the theater. Tyler was already there.
Our Town was over and the backdrops and stage props had been cleared away, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, the theater was completely quiet during lunch. The three of us didn’t seem to know what to do with ourselves. No lines to rehearse. No marks to memorize. No one there but the three of us.
We sat on the edge of the stage, our feet dangling over the side, looking out into the empty auditorium at the rows and rows of red crushed velvet–covered chairs.
“How much are we going to miss this room?” Tyler asked.
I took it to mean the room and the people in it. Based on our answers, we all did.
“Every day,” Charlotte said.
“Constantly,” I added.
“I can’t even think about it,” Tyler said.
I missed my rock.
As soon as I got home from school on Wednesday, I went straight to my room, changed into my running clothes, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and sat on the edge of my bed, lacing up my running shoes.
My music was loud as I turned onto the sidewalk and ran to the intersection. The light was already green, so I ran across the street and headed straight up Foothill Drive. When it hit the trail, I focused on that wooden sign and pressed toward it.
At the top, I turned right and kept going, following the bends and curves of the narrow path until I reached my boulder three miles later. I slowed to a walk and shook out my arms, cooling off and catching my breath.
It was quiet up there. I crossed my legs, breathed in deeply, and I let my eyes fall shut. I just listened.
I could hear the birds chirping from their nests in the nearby trees, and the faraway whoosh of the traffic at the bottom of the hill. I could smell the flowers blooming below me and the sharp tinge of new grass. I could feel the crisp, early April air, and as I breathed it in, I pictured it traveling into my body and all the way through me—down to my toes and into my fingertips and through every strand of hair on my head. I sat there like that for a long time.
I was getting better at meditating. I’d see the thoughts pass through my mind, recognize them, and let them drift right out again. Each time, it felt a little less like work. It took less effort to find stillness and hold it.
I wasn’t sure how much time went by—ten minutes, twenty, thirty—it didn’t matter. I was lost in my own peaceful little world, when my phone buzzed.
I opened my eyes and read the message.
Luke: I miss you.
I smiled at the screen as I typed.
Hannah: I miss you, too.
Luke: Can we talk?
Hannah: Anytime.
Luke: How’s now?
Luke: I’m sitting here with Emory. We have a plan for tomorrow, but we need your help to pull it off. You in?
My body didn’t seem to know whether to smile or cry. I was doing both as I typed my reply.
Hannah: Where are you?
Luke: Diner
I stood and started down the rock. When I landed at the bottom, I typed, On my way.
On Friday after school, Luke and I went straight to my house and found Mom out of bed, buzzing around. She said she’d been to the gym, and when I asked her about work, she said her catering clients were all lined up for the following week.
She’d cleaned the house, top to bottom. Key pieces of the last year of our lives seemed to be missing, or at least hidden. Her wed
ding binder wasn’t on the dining-room table like it usually was. There was no sign of the box we’d been using to keep the extra invitations and all the RSVP cards that had been arriving. The photo of her and David on the day he fake-proposed had been removed from the mantel. She wasn’t wearing her engagement ring.
“I’m glad you’re both here. I could use your help with a few things.” She was all business. “I’ve got two storage boxes full of David’s things in my bedroom, and another box I need help putting up in the rafters in the garage.”
“Luke isn’t allowed to carry anything yet. The internal stitches are still healing.”
“I can carry some things,” Luke said with a fake pout.
“Nope,” Mom said. “Have a seat. We’ve got it.”
“Fine,” Luke said as he collapsed on the couch. “I’ll just be here. Feeling useless.” He pulled out his phone to keep himself busy.
All day, I’d been dreading walking through the front door, but seeing Mom up and around had me feeling better already. I followed her to her room, and together, we carried everything out to the garage. I didn’t ask her what was in the boxes bound for the rafters, but I had a feeling I knew.
“I take it you talked to him?” I asked her as I set up the ladder.
She handed me the box. “No. I wanted to do it in person. He’s coming straight from the airport, and he should be here in an hour. You and Luke need to leave, okay?”
No. Luke and I had already talked it through. “We’ll stay in my room, out of sight.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I don’t think you should be alone when you tell him.”
She let out a huff. “Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. He’ll come over, I’ll tell him the wedding is off and why. I’ll tell him he’s damn lucky I’m not pressing charges. And then I’ll give him his things and walk him out to his car.” She steadied the ladder as I climbed back down. “And then, after he’s gone, I’ll have a complete breakdown—which I’ve scheduled to begin tonight and end on Sunday, so please don’t freak out—and when it’s over, that will be the end of it. I will move on. I will be fine.”
“I still think I should be here,” I said as my feet hit the floor.
She brought her hands to her hips. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to see him tonight. I don’t want you to see him ever again.”
She seemed so calm and clearheaded. But I remembered those times I’d seen her back down to him in a way that wasn’t at all like her, and I couldn’t help but think there was a small part of her that was afraid of him.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Positive.” She took my hands in hers. “Are you sure you don’t want me to press charges?”
I’d thought about it. A lot. I didn’t need to press charges to make myself feel better about what happened; I just wanted him out of our lives.
“I think losing you is punishment enough.” I smiled at her. “And I’m fine. Really.”
“Okay. Then go. Get out of here before he shows up.”
I agreed, but it was a lie. I’d be in my room the entire time, because that was part of my plan with Luke and Hannah. I had to be there to protect her, just in case she needed me. And I had to hear what he said when she told him.
She hugged me. “I’ll text you when he’s gone and you and Luke can come back here and watch a movie or something.” She pulled away and looked me in the eyes. “But you don’t have to. It’s a Friday night. Go have fun. I’ll be fine.”
When she went to the kitchen, I disappeared into my bedroom. Working quickly so she wouldn’t get suspicious, I reached deep into the back of my closet and pulled out the metal stepladder. I carried it over to the window, lowered it into the dirt below, and returned to the living room.
“All set?” Luke whispered, and I gave him a thumbs-up.
We told her good-bye and left through the front door. We climbed into his car, and he backed out and drove around the corner, parking under the streetlamp in front of Hannah’s kitchen window. We checked to be sure the coast was clear, and then we snuck around the corner and darted up her front steps.
Hannah was already there, waiting for us, watching through the crack in the doorway. She opened it wider so we could come inside.
We followed her into the living room. Pastor J was standing at the window, peering through the side of the white linen curtain. When he heard my voice, he looked over his shoulder and smiled at me.
I smiled back.
“How did it go?” Hannah’s mom asked.
“Fine, I guess. He’s on his way.” I figured I shouldn’t call him D-bag in front of Hannah’s parents, but I wasn’t about to call him David, either.
Pastor J waved me over to the window so I could watch by his side.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and I nodded, trying to ignore how clammy my hands felt and the giant knot deep in the pit of my stomach.
I’d lost count of how many times Hannah’s dad had apologized to me over the last two days. And now he was trying to make up for it by saying all the right things, like I’d always been part of their family and I always would be.
Hannah’s mom gave me a supportive pat on the back. “I wish you’d let us all go over there with you. We could confront him together. Your mom wouldn’t be alone.”
It was true, but I knew that wasn’t the way Mom wanted it. She wanted to confront him by herself. And I was happy to let her, as long as she had backup.
“She’s got this.” I was about to say more, but instead I said, “He’s here.”
The adrenaline kicked in as soon as I saw David’s car pull into the driveway. We all gathered in front of the window, watching as he got out, took a duffel bag from the trunk, and walked to the front door. He was carrying his bag in a way that made his arm look huge and powerful, even from that distance.
He didn’t knock, he just opened the front door and disappeared inside my house.
That was our cue.
Luke was already at the edge of Hannah’s living room, waiting for me. The two of us left through the back door, ran across the grass, climbed the stepladder, and slipped inside my bedroom.
I opened the door a crack, and the two of us poked our heads into the hallway, listening.
I could hear Mom’s voice, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. She and David went back and forth a few times, but everything was muffled. And then I heard him, loud and clear. “She’s a liar, Jennifer.”
I steeled myself, waiting for her to respond. Luke gripped my arm, and I turned to look at him. His face was red, his eyebrows pinched together, and I think if he had been standing anywhere near D-bag, he would have punched him. I loved him for that.
“You’re actually trying to tell me she made this up?” Mom was yelling now, too. “Come on, David. She would never do that.”
I wanted to hug her.
“Of course she would! Emory has never liked me. She’s lying to you, and you’re falling for it. That girl has you wrapped around her little finger and you don’t even see it!”
I shook my head. He was making this up as he went. I never had any reason to manipulate my mom. Why would I?
It was way too quiet for far too long.
“Get out,” Mom said calmly. “Get your things and get out of my house.”
“You’re siding with her?”
“Of course I’m siding with her.”
“Jennifer, please. Listen to me.”
“Get out. Now.”
“I’m not leaving.”
I felt Luke start to push past me, and I turned around and looked at him, silently begging him to stay put. I pointed at his side, reminding him about his stitches.
His injury was the only reason I’d let him convince me to get Hannah’s family involved in the first place. I wasn’t about to let him step in.
“She misunderstood,” David said, changing tack. “When she gets home we can all sit and talk about it. I’ll explain. I’ll apologize.” He caught himself, o
r maybe Mom shot him a look, because he edited his words in real time. “I’ll apologize, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”
He sounded convincing, even from where I stood. I couldn’t see his face, but Mom could, and I had no idea what she was thinking. She didn’t speak for the longest time.
“Come on. You don’t really think I could do something like that, do you?”
“Don’t touch me.” Her voice was trembling.
“Jennifer.”
“Stop it!” Mom yelled. “Get your hands off me.”
That was all I needed to hear. I pressed the SEND button.
And then I took off running through the hallway and into the living room. David was in Mom’s face, and he had a tight grip on both her arms.
I grabbed a chunk of his shirt and pulled as hard as I could. “Let go of her!” I yelled, and he spun around, looking shocked to see me there.
He put his hands in the air, like I was a cop and he was proving he wasn’t carrying a weapon. I backed away from him, but he walked toward me. “This was a big misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He reached out to grab my wrist, but I took another big step back. “You misunderstood, that’s all.”
Then Luke was right in next to me.
I could see the panic in David’s eyes. Not that Luke was much of a threat in his condition—at the moment, David was stronger than both of us put together—but the two-against-one thing suddenly seemed to click.
But it wasn’t supposed to be two against one. It was supposed to be six against one. I was sure Hannah and her parents would be there any second, but time seemed to be moving in painfully slow motion.
Mom stepped up behind him. “Leave,” she said. Her voice sounded steady. Strong. Brave. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
He didn’t even turn around to look at her. His eyes were fixed on mine, narrowed into slits, glaring at me like I was the evil one.
“Leave,” she said again. That time, she sounded different. Even fiercer.
He looked like he was about to do as he was told, but then he realized I was blocking the most direct path to the front door. I didn’t even have time to register the look on his face, I just felt him push me out of his way with both hands.
Little Do We Know Page 27