I was sick of arguing.
“I guess a couple hours of sleep would be good.” I refused to look at him. I didn’t want to see the satisfaction on his face.
I looked back at Josh one last time. Mom’s words came to mind, “Kiss Josh for me.” At the time it seemed repulsive. Now it was the only thing I could think to do. I leaned over to my brother and kissed his cheek, just as Mom would have done.
Chapter 19
The hotel was more like a motel. It was dark, dingy and reeked of sleazy one-night stands. I would have been better off in the hospital waiting room. Granted the hotel room had a bed, but did I really want to sleep on those sheets? God only knew what illegal acts had taken place on them.
Zach came back with a key and pulled the Jeep up in front of our room. The red door made me think of the red light district in Amsterdam. I jumped out of the Jeep and ran into the room, hoping nobody would mistake me for a prostitute.
My eyes focused on the wood-paneled walls and the brown, flower-patterned carpet. It was something out of an episode of The Brady Bunch. And as if my life was a book or some crappy movie, there was only one bed. Not even a king. A queen.
The comforter was paper-thin and hunter green with pink flowers. This room was a tacky disaster. I was expecting the musty smell of water damage, but to my surprise it smelled of Pine Sol. It was the only plus in a sea of negatives.
Then again, who was I to be complaining about anything? My brother was alive. Six people were dead, and six families weren’t as lucky as me.
It made me want to pick something up and smash it against the wall so I could watch my anger shatter into a million pieces. And as my eyes scanned the room for the perfect object to take out my fury, I spotted the phone.
I dove at it, taking the receiver in my hand before realizing I didn’t have the number to the hospital. I looked to Zach and before I could ask he said, “I already called the hospital when I went to check in. Josh is doing fine. He’s sleeping. I gave them the number to the hotel and went over our cell numbers again. They said they would call us immediately if something happened. Then the nurse reassured me nothing is going to happen.”
But something already did happen.
“And I called your parents too. They’re at the airport right now on standby.”
My parents. What I would have given to have my Mommy in this moment.
“The lady at the front desk said we could rent movies on the TV. Movies still out in the theater. How awesome is that?” Zach said, an exaggerated smile forming on his face. He was trying to help, but come on. This was the 21st century—every hotel had in-room movies. Anyways, not even a marching band barging through our hotel room would have been able to divert my attention right now.
The sight of my brother with a million wires and tubes hooked up to him was permanently burned into my mind. And when I closed my eyes, the vision of him being shot played across my eyelids like a movie screen.
“Do you want to take a shower? I can get lost for a little while,” Zach said.
“No.”
“Do you want to watch a movie then? I think they have that one with Leonardo DiCaprio. I know how much you love him. Or at least used to.”
His feeble attempts to distract me were actually kind of sweet. From the minute Zach had arrived at my door that afternoon, through the whole day of ups and downs, he had been there. It was as if he was always there. As if he’d never left and the time he was gone didn’t exist. But it did.
“Still do,” I said and tried to smile, but my muscles were so weak it fell short.
“So what do you say? A little Leo to brighten your night?”
“I think I’m just going to lie down.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. I walked over to the bed, crawled to the pillows, wrapped my arms around them and closed my eyes, bracing for the images to return.
I felt the bed sink down as Zach sat on the edge. I should have said something. I could have thanked him for everything. But I just didn’t have it in me. I was exhausted, emotionally drained, and completely confused as to how one minute my life was pretty damn good and then the next a total disaster.
“I saw a Wal-Mart up the road. We need a few things. Do you want to come?” he asked.
Without opening my eyes I shook my head no, still clinging to the pillow.
“Okay, well, I’ll be back. Don’t open the door for anybody. Keep it locked. I have a key. And I have my cell if you need me.” The bed lifted as he rose. I waited to hear the sound of the door—instead I felt his hand on my head, smoothing my hair out of my face.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he said before kissing me on the forehead.
When I heard the sound of the door close I felt alone. Utterly and completely alone. I was scared. I needed my parents more than I ever had before and they weren’t there. I needed my brother, but he was the whole reason I was so anxious in the first place.
I realized Zach had been keeping me grounded through this whole tortuous day. He was the closest thing to family I had here with me, because regardless of the year of regret and anger, I once loved him.
When he walked out of that room, the wall in my heart that had taken forever to build up began to crack slightly.
Tears formed a film in front of my eyes until I finally succumbed to the overwhelming emotions I had been trying so hard to fight.
I cried.
I cried for my brother. For the lives lost. For the families who, unlike mine, would never see their loved ones again. For Mimi. For myself. For everything.
Tears poured out in streams of anger, fear and regret until there was nothing left. Until I was dry. Empty. With nothing left to cry over, I fell asleep.
I awoke to the sound of the door opening. A quick flutter of panic raced through me at the thought of an intruder. Then I saw Zach struggling with several bags and a large box. He made it to the dark oak dresser that held the TV and set everything down.
I sat up in the bed and pulled my knees into my chest. The salty tracks of the dried tears on my cheek reminded me of reality. Sleep had allowed me to forget about it momentarily.
“I got toothbrushes,” Zach said, holding up two toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste. “I also got you deodorant because even if you look like hell, we don’t want you to smell.” A teasing smile settled on his face.
I picked up the pillow, the only thing for me to hold on to when he left, and tossed it at his head. I didn’t need the pillow anymore. He was back.
“Jerk,” I said and was surprised when it didn’t hurt to smile.
“Hey!” Zach yelled just before he caught the pillow inches from his face.
I shrugged then crawled to the edge of the bed. “What else did you get?”
“A couple slices of pizza. I know you’re probably not hungry, but you haven’t eaten all night.”
“Thanks. What’s in the box?” I asked, curious about its size.
Zach turned his back to me and I heard his hands smack on the side of the box as he took it into his grasp. When he turned back around I was able to see the picture on the side and I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.
“An Easy Bake Oven,” I said. “You got me an Easy Bake Oven?”
“Yeah. I mean. You used to bake when you were upset. And I know you said you don’t bake anymore, but I saw it and figured why not. You don’t have . . .”
I didn’t let him finish. I threw my arms around his neck.
I pulled away, my eyes going swiftly to his. “You make it really hard to hate you,” I said.
“Now don’t go getting all sappy on me. I don’t need you crying and making the cookies soggy.”
“And then you say something like that and it’s not so hard.”
He gave me a little nudge to my shoulder with his elbow. I was happy to have the mood lighten. And I couldn’t wait to try out
the Easy Bake Oven.
“So are we going to do this?” he asked.
“We? No. I’m going to do this.” I took the pack of mix from his hands.
“Wait a minute. I can’t help?”
“You can open the box. Other than that, no. I don’t want you messing it up.”
“Listen to you. Like you’re some sort of professional,” he said.
“Are you saying I’m not? After all, you’re the one who told me I should open a bakery.” I froze after the words left my mouth. Our past was something we couldn’t deny but that didn’t mean it wasn’t uncomfortable to bring it up.
“Touché. But you are out of practice.” He pointed at me, ignoring my sudden stiffness, and my fear of mentioning the past faded. I just wouldn’t do it again. This was not the time and definitely not the place.
“True, but it’s like riding a bike,” I said.
“Well I just so happen to have bought two packs of fudgy chocolate chip cookie mix.” He reached into the bag, pulled out the toothbrushes, and held up another pack. “I feel a bet coming on. You up for it?”
“What are the conditions?” I asked, knowing regardless of what they were, I was already in.
“We each make a batch and whoever’s is better gets the bed for the night,” he said, nodding towards it.
“Oh, you are on,” I said with a laugh.
“A year is a long time,” he said, and my heart skipped a beat.
What was that supposed to mean? Was he really going to bring up our relationship? Now?
“For all you know, I could have become a pro where Easy Bake Ovens are concerned,” he said, putting his game face on, the same one he got when he was in the middle of a video game with Josh.
“I’ll take my chances,” I said, and we both laughed.
When Zach pulled the oven out of the box I noticed it was a different, fancier version from the one I had when I was a kid. I took the box in my hand to read the directions and see if it worked the same.
“I’m sorry, Zach,” I said and he looked up, concern filling his dark eyes.
“For what?”
“This is for children eight and up. Looks like you’re disqualified.” I tried not to laugh. To keep my face as serious as possible.
“Cute. Very funny.”
“I thought so.” I smiled again. It felt good—a nice contrast to my earlier state.
Zach set everything up on the nightstand and placed it in front of the bed. We sat beside each other working on our creations. I couldn’t hold back a snort when I looked over and saw him placing rainbow sugar crystals in his cookie dough.
“What?” he asked, stopping what he was doing.
“Nothing.” I kept my attention on my mix and didn’t look up at him.
“You know what? You do what you do, and I’ll do what I do. Then when the taste test comes, we’ll see whose cookies are better.”
I nodded, perfectly aware they were not going to be his. Especially when he added the pink frosting mix after he put in the sugar crystals. You weren’t supposed to mix packages. The frosting and the cookie mix were two separate products. But I wasn’t about to tell him that. Besides, if he’d read the directions he would have picked up on that small but important piece of information. Then again, Zach was never one to follow the rules. He liked to think outside the box. Even if he did wind up with a poor excuse for a cookie, he wouldn’t care because his was creative. It was obvious he got his logic from Mimi.
I looked away when our eyes met. For whatever reason, the intensity in his gaze scared me. It was too familiar. Too reminiscent of times past. I couldn’t handle it. So before I could fall into his spell, I shifted my eyes away.
We finished making our cookies with little conversation. I pretended I was intent on making the best cookies an Easy Bake Oven could make.
Zach tried taking his cookie out after a few seconds, but I made Mr. Impatient wait the full eight to nine minutes as the directions stated. The alarm on his phone beeped and Zach took the spatula thing that came in the box and took his cookie out of the oven. We’d both decided to make one big cookie rather than the four the mix could supposedly make.
He placed it next to mine and I couldn’t help bursting out laughing. His cookie looked like it had been chewed up and spit back out.
“What?” he said. “It’s not that bad.”
I kept laughing. Big, loud, bellowing, laughs.
“Go ahead. Laugh it up. It’s not about the look, it’s about the taste,” Zach said, taking the cookie off the pan.
“I’m not tasting that,” I managed to say between laughs.
“Fine, be that way. I’ll taste it, then.” He broke off a piece and placed it in his mouth. I watched as his nose scrunched and his cheeks puffed. My laughter reached a new high.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give you a pillow from the bed,” I said, holding my side.
He walked over to the bathroom garbage and spit his cookie out.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “We still haven’t tasted yours.”
“Be my guest.” I waved to the pan that held my perfectly baked cookie.
“Just because it looks good doesn’t mean it tastes good,” he said, then placed a piece of the cookie in his mouth.
I stood back, waiting for his opinion.
“How is this possible?” he asked. I raised my eyebrows in question. “You even make Easy Bake Oven cookies amazing.”
“I’m a pro, remember?”
He didn’t respond. Instead he reached across the nightstand and wiped fudgy chocolate down my nose.
“Ugh! I can’t believe . . .” I jumped up, grabbed the leftover cookie mix, and started chasing him around the room. He was quick—it was something his dad was proud of. Unfortunately, being quick hadn’t been enough for him to make the football team in high school, which is why the first time I saw him he was handing the microphone to Smith Johnson.
Zach had wanted to be a part of the team because his dad was a local legend, and I knew he’d felt he had to walk in his footsteps. After a month of being the team’s gopher, though, he’d quit and started going after his own dreams, which I think is what his dad had wanted for him all along.
It’s funny how you remember things at the most unexpected moments.
I jumped on the bed, my legs ready to propel me in either direction. Zach was across from me on the floor, his eyes searching for a way to escape.
In one quick motion, I leaped from the bed, landed right in front of him, and smeared chocolate from his forehead, down his nose to his chin.
The laughing came again, but it quickly ended when the vision of the woman at the hospital collapsing to the floor flashed through my mind.
“This isn’t right,” I said, sitting down on the bed.
“No, it’s not,” Zach said, wiping the chocolate from his nose and licking his finger.
“That’s not what I meant. We’re here laughing and joking around as if nothing is wrong. But people lost their lives today. Families lost their kids. My brother is drugged up and lucky to be alive, but here we are having a grand old time.”
Zach sat down beside me and placed his hand on my knee. “Just because their lives stopped doesn’t mean yours has to.”
“How do you always know the right thing to say?” I looked into his eyes, not afraid of the intensity anymore.
“I don’t,” he said, and I rolled my eyes.
“No, you do,” I insisted.
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” He slid closer to me.
“And what’s that?”
“There is no secret. I don’t know the right thing to say any more than you do. For all I know, what I’m saying is utter bullshit. But sometimes bullshit is what you need. You know? And in all honesty, I just say what I’d want to hear given the situation.”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I leaned my head against him. Whether he knew it or not, he had said the right thing yet again.
I was sitting in a hotel room with the boy I used to love. The only problem was, now I remembered why I loved him.
It was the little things. Like when he sat with me for nine hours while I baked, too upset to come to terms with the fact my grandfather was dead. And when we were watching Titanic and he turned to me and said, “You jump, I jump,” and as corny as it was, and even though I burst out laughing, it meant something to me.
Zach was always doing the little things. And now, with the Easy Bake Oven, it was obvious that much hadn’t changed.
People change. We had both changed. That much was true. But was it possible for two people to change, yet still be perfect for each other?
Chapter 20
Zach cleaned up our baking mess while I showered. He had even bought me a cute pajama set with pink flannel pants and a pink tank top. He got it all right. I still hadn’t even thanked him. But how was I supposed to? He went above and beyond with everything. A single word seemed pointless.
I pulled the pajama pants on and my mind drifted to that day when I woke to find Zach on the couch with Josh. It seemed like forever ago. I laughed at the thought of being mortified at my appearance. If I only knew then Zach would see me snot all over, I could have saved myself a lot of useless humiliation.
Zach was already set up on the floor when I emerged from the bathroom. Guilt poked at me like a nagging kid trying to get my attention. I ignored it. I couldn’t deny everything he had done but that didn’t mean I was going to let him in bed with me.
“Better?” he asked as I crossed the room and crawled into the bed.
“Better. You need another blanket or pillow?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Okay, goodnight then.” I reached over and turned the light off.
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