“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I was getting ready to make a snack before work.”
My eating schedule had gotten so out of whack after spending two days with Kara that I didn’t even know if I should be hungry or not. “Um, yeah,” I said. “I guess.”
Riley tucked me into bed and turned on the TV. He handed me the remote and then headed to the kitchen. He didn’t ask me what I wanted and I hadn’t told him, but I knew whatever he came back with would be perfect.
“I can’t believe it,” Riley said after we’d finished eating our sandwiches. He sat beside me on the bed holding my hand, like I was sick, or an invalid or something.
“I don’t know why you’re surprised. I mean, she practically couldn’t do anything for herself the last few months.”
“But she seemed happy at Collin’s graduation.”
Ugh, Collin’s graduation. Collin didn’t go to either of the elementary schools I’d gone to. Since he needed special services, he went to a school outside our zone. He was in a regular kindergarten class, but they pulled him out for one-on-one help since he didn’t always do well in big groups.
The graduation thing had been outside. All the kinder-gartners lined up in the grass wearing their graduation gowns and sang a few little-kid songs. And then Collin almost ruined the whole thing in the middle.
While they were supposed to be singing “My Country, ’Tis of Thee,” Collin turned around and bolted across the field toward the baseball diamond. His teacher looked back at him, lost her place in the song, and then looked around the audience for Mom. Mom just sat there staring off into space like she didn’t know what was going on. Mabel nudged her, but by the time she figured out Collin had run away, Riley had already crossed the field and caught him. He threw Collin over his shoulder and tickled him as he carried him back to his class. Collin wouldn’t stay with his kindergarten class by himself, so Riley stood with all the little kids. And he sang, too.
Mabel took a ton of pictures with Mom’s camera. Mom couldn’t stop crying long enough to hold the camera up to her face. Later Mabel had them printed and got a big blown-up version of the only decent picture she’d gotten of all four of us. We were a sad excuse for a family. Collin scowled and looked away from the camera as he tried to pull away from Riley. Riley looked down at Collin with his mouth open like he was telling him to hold still. Riley had his other arm around my waist. I squinted because the sun was in my eyes. Only Mom, with her face red from crying, had smiled. Trying to pretend like she wouldn’t be dead in a week.
I snorted. “Were you there?” I asked Riley. “She cried through the whole thing.”
“Other mothers cried too. You get emotional when your kid graduates from kindergarten.”
I rolled my eyes. “She was just crying about Carl. She probably didn’t even know where we were.”
“Lainey, you’re—”
“Let’s talk about something else.”
“Fine. How’s Collin holding up?”
That wasn’t really changing the subject, but whatever. “He’s fine.”
Mabel probably thought I was a terrible sister. I still hadn’t actually called to see how Collin was doing.
“Jeez, I can’t even imagine how he feels right now. He must be so confused.”
I nodded.
“Who’s watching him?”
“Mabel. Don’t you have to go to work soon?”
He checked his watch. “Yeah, I should be leaving now. If I go. I’ll call in sick and stay with you if you want.”
I shook my head. “You should save your sick days for when we can actually have a nice day together.”
He rubbed my knee through the blanket. “You can come with me.”
If I’d wanted to, I could have gone to work with him and sat in the waiting room reading car magazines and drinking gross coffee out of a Styrofoam cup. But it didn’t really sound all that appealing.
“I think I’ll just go back to Kara’s,” I said.
Riley nodded. “Maybe I can come over after work?”
“I might go to work with Kara.”
“I could meet you at the diner.”
“All right. That’d be nice.”
“I’ll call you.”
I forced a smile. “I’ll answer.”
2
LAINEY ST. SOMEBODY
After I left Riley’s, I drove to my house. I decided if I saw police tape, I would keep driving. But when I got to my house, it looked completely normal, just like it had the last time I’d been there. I parked in the driveway and then walked up to the front door. Then I changed my mind and walked next door to Mabel’s.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Mabel greeted me with a big smile. Then I noticed her looking me up and down, and I knew she was thinking, The poor girl’s had on the same clothes for forty-eight hours. “Come on in!”
As I followed Mabel into the house, I noticed the silence first. And then I noticed that all her animal knickknacks were still carefully arranged on her shelves. Those goofy animals had provided hours of conversation after Carl died and Mabel started coming over a lot. It was good to have something to talk to her about besides church and Basket Bingo and dead people. I’d buy her a grizzly bear figurine or whatever, and when I gave it to her, she’d tell me how much she loved it; then she’d tell me about her other grizzly bears and where she’d found them, and that would eventually lead into a story, and the stupid grizzly bear would provide an hour’s worth of conversation between me and Mabel, while Mom sat in the recliner looking comatose.
The knickknacks were intact and the house was perfectly silent. My brother was definitely not here.
“Where’s Collin?” I asked Mabel.
“Oh, honey, sit down,” Mabel said. She took my hand and pulled me into the living room. I wondered if I’d been wrong. I’d just assumed Collin was okay, but maybe he wasn’t.
I sat on Mabel’s couch. Mabel stood beside me.
“I called Carl’s mother, and she came and picked Collin up. The day it happened.”
“Oh. Is he going to live with her now or something?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Would you like some cookies?”
“Okay,” I said, even though I wasn’t hungry. Mabel smiled at me and went to the kitchen.
Mabel’s house always smelled like tea, and not instant iced tea from a canister like my mom always made, but the kind that you made on the stove with boiling water and tea bags. I hated that kind of tea, but whenever Mabel gave me a cup, I drank it. She came back with two glasses of nasty tea and a plate of cookies (store-bought; Mabel never baked) on a tray.
“Did you talk to your father?” Mabel asked.
I nodded, but of course I hadn’t.
“Good. He sounded so worried about you. Are you going to visit?”
I shook my head and then took a big gulp. The trick was to drink the tea as quickly as possible. “I think I’ll go back to Kara’s tonight.” If my dad had been all that worried about me, he would’ve come to Corben already.
Mabel nodded. “Her mother sounded very nice on the phone.”
I nodded. “They’re all really nice.”
I sat on Mabel’s couch and stared at her coffee table. It was so quiet that I could hear myself chew, and it sounded like the loudest noise I’d ever heard. I finished my cookies and took two more big gulps of the tea and then put my empty glass down on the tray.
“Did you want me to walk next door with you and help you pack an overnight bag?” Mabel asked.
I shrugged. “If you want.” There was no way I’d admit to Mabel that I might actually be afraid to walk into my own house.
We got up and walked outside. When I saw the red Mustang convertible with Texas plates parked in front of my house, I stopped. Mabel bumped into my arm.
“What is that?” I asked. “Whose car is that?”
Mabel stared and shook her head. “I don’t know, dear. It’s probably just someone visiting one of the neighbors.”
As we walk
ed toward my house, I saw that the gate was already open. We never left the gate open, and I knew I’d shut it fifteen minutes earlier.
We walked up to the porch. Mabel turned the doorknob. It was already unlocked. She gave me a look.
“Hello?” Mabel called. “Is anyone home?” I followed her into the living room, but I left the door open in case we had to make a quick escape.
A blond girl flew into the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Hey!” she exclaimed. She wore white shorts and a pink T-shirt with a rainbow on the front. She was tan. Really tan.
And she looked just like Mom.
Okay, she looked like what Mom would have looked like twenty years ago.
Mabel looked at me, like she wanted me to explain. But I just stared. She took a few steps toward the blond girl.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m Mabel White. From next door.” She held out her hand and the blond girl shook it.
“Vallery Lancaster,” she said. “From Texas. I’m Lisa’s daughter. I just got here. I left as soon as Lisa’s lawyer called, but it’s a pretty long drive.” Vallery looked me over. “Hi!” she said. She held out her hand.
I knew I shouldn’t be offended that she didn’t recognize me. I hadn’t even bothered to find her number and call her. But I just stared at her hand. “It’s me, Lainey,” I said. “Remember?”
“Oh!” Vallery threw her arms around me. “My God, Lainey, it’s been years.”
I let her hug me for a few seconds and then I pulled away. We stood there awkwardly in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.
“Uh. So. Do you dye your hair now? It looks lighter.”
Vallery rubbed her hair. “The sun lightened it up a lot.”
I nodded.
“Do you have any food or anything?” Vallery asked. “I haven’t eaten since Tennessee.”
I waved my arm toward the kitchen, and Vallery turned and went in. Mabel and I sat down at the kitchen table while Vallery opened the refrigerator.
“So you’re Lisa’s oldest daughter,” Mabel said.
Vallery looked at Mabel over the refrigerator door. “Yep.”
Mabel nodded. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I’d gotten very close to Lisa, so I can only imagine how you must feel right now.”
“Yeah,” Vallery said. She walked away from the refrigerator with a block of cheese. “It’s really…sad. Just sad. I don’t know any other way to describe it.” Vallery turned to me and made a jabbing motion with her hand, like she wanted to stab me.
“You need a knife?” She nodded. I went to the silverware drawer and found a sharp one.
“Thanks,” she said. She sat at the table and cut off a wedge of cheese. “I know this is probably rude, but I’m so hungry I think I might pass out.”
“Are you diabetic?” Mabel asked.
“No. Just hungry.” Vallery smiled at me. “I wish you could see your face right now. You’d think I’d come back from the dead or something.”
“I just wasn’t expecting to see you. I didn’t know Mom had a lawyer. I don’t even have your phone number.”
“We didn’t have any idea how to get in touch with you,” Mabel said. “I’d started planning the funeral with my pastor.”
“Oh crap, funeral. Yeah, we’ll have to talk about that.”
Mabel nodded. “I bet you girls would like to catch up, so I’ll go on home. When you get all settled in, you can come on over and talk to me.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Vallery said.
“Thank you, Mabel.”
Vallery and I sat at the table and waited for the front door to shut behind her.
“How did you get in?” I asked.
“You keep a spare key hidden under a flowerpot, like every other person in the world.”
She put down the knife. “Where the hell did Collin come from? Why didn’t anyone bother to tell me that Mom had another kid?”
I shrugged. Vallery sighed and threw her long, tan legs up on the chair beside her.
“I about shit myself when Mom’s lawyer called. First, I was surprised that Mom had been smart enough to even talk to a lawyer. And then it was surprise after surprise after surprise.” She picked the knife back up and pointed it at me. “You know, I’m not the one who didn’t stay in touch.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I know Mom.”
“I mean, when I got a little older, I really tried to be a good daughter. I called Mom sometimes to let her know how I was doing. It didn’t seem like she cared all that much, but I did it anyway. Every time I moved or changed my number, I let her know, just in case. And this, Lainey, is the very definition of ‘just in case.’ She should have called me. My God. I would have taken the kid off her hands so she could get some counseling or whatever she needed to do. Jesus.”
“What did the lawyer tell you?”
Vallery grinned. “Oh, it was great. First he tells me, ‘Angel, I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your mother has passed away.’ And I’m like, ‘Oh my God, was she sick?’ And he’s all, ‘Yes, emotionally she was very sick. She was never the same after Carl’s death. She couldn’t get over it.’ So I’m like, ‘Oh, her broken heart killed her?’ And I kind of laughed, which was real appropriate, I know. So he says, ‘No, she killed herself. She hung herself.’ And I’m like, ‘Oh my God.’ But then I’m like, ‘Wait, who is Carl?’ And that surprised him. I guess Mom had given him the impression that we were super close or something.”
“I can’t believe Mom had a lawyer.”
“Yeah, apparently after she knew she was going to off herself, she got in touch with this guy to get her affairs in order or whatever. I think they used to date. So anyway, he explains to me about Carl and the motorcycle accident and everything. And I’m like, ‘Well thank you for letting me know, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it up there in time for the funeral, money’s tight, blah, blah.’ And he’s quiet for a minute. And then he says, ‘Of course there’s still the matter of your brother, Collin.’ See, by then he’d figured out that if I didn’t know about Carl, there’s no way in hell I knew they had a kid. I bet he was mad as hell at Mom. He had to explain to me all about the kid and how Mom wanted me to be his guardian or whatever. So I said, ‘All right, I’m on my way, but I’m coming from Texas so it’s gonna take a while.’ And now here I am. I have a meeting with this lawyer guy tomorrow.”
“I thought you lived in Colorado.”
“I moved to Dallas after college. God, Mom didn’t tell you anything, did she?”
I shook my head. “You went to college?”
“Yes, I went to college. That’s surprising?”
“Well, the last time you were here, you didn’t seem really…scholastic.”
I hadn’t seen Vallery since I was eight years old. She visited one summer during Mom’s Dark Days when she’d been too paranoid to work so she somehow got on disability and saw a counselor five times a week. Vallery was fifteen, and her dad sent her to us because she’d gotten out of control. Like Mom could have done anything to fix that. I guess he just needed a break.
Somehow she made a zillion friends her first day in Baltimore, and had a party in our living room every single night for six weeks. It was hard to sleep with all that noise all night long. Mom got pills from her doctor, and she had no idea what was going on. I snuck one of her pills one time and downed it with a glass of grape juice, but it made my arms and legs feel so heavy that I crawled to my bed and slept it off for about sixteen hours.
Vallery rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well I’m twenty-five, Lainey. I grew up. Didn’t you? I notice you’re not still wearing Care Bears pajamas and picking your nose. Besides, it was just state college, not the Ivy League or anything.”
“I wasn’t saying I thought you were dumb.”
“Yeah, I know. Hey, I do like this house a lot better than the old one. Man, that place was a dump. Whoever Carl was, I guess he set you and Mom up pretty nice.”
I laughed. “We even have gas h
ere.”
Vallery wrapped up the cheese and dropped the knife in the sink on her way to the refrigerator. “Gas?”
“We didn’t at the old house. Mom had it shut off when you were there.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“You don’t remember? Mom was afraid of ovens. She was on disability. Saw a counselor and everything.”
Vallery laughed. “You’re making that up. That sounds too whacked out even for Mom.”
“You don’t remember we couldn’t cook anything on the stove? We could only use the microwave?”
Vallery looked up at the ceiling and then nodded. “I guess I do remember eating a lot of Hot Pockets that summer.” She sat back down at the table. “Where’s the kid?”
I shrugged. “Mabel says his grandmother came and got him.”
“He has a grandmother?”
I nodded. “Carl’s mom.”
“Then why did Mom make me his guardian?”
I shrugged.
“Why do you think she hung herself?”
“I don’t know.”
“I mean, she has pills out the ass in the medicine cabinet.”
I stared at her. “You’ve been here for twenty minutes and you went snooping through the medicine cabinet already?”
“Yes. Wouldn’t it have been easier to swallow a bottle of those and then just drift off to sleep?”
“Is that how it works? You just go to sleep?”
“I don’t know. But it seems like it’d have to be more pleasant than snapping your neck.”
“I think you suffocate when you hang yourself.”
“I don’t think so. Anyway, this Mabel lady? She was Mom’s friend?”
“Yeah. She lives next door.”
“I guess I better go talk to her about this funeral.”
“Now?”
Vallery shrugged. “Yeah, why not? Left or right?”
“Left. The yellow house.”
“’Kay. I’ll be back in a few.”
Vallery started for the living room, and then she walked back to me and bent down and gave me a hug. She kissed me on the cheek and walked away.
Alone again.
I sat at the kitchen table and stared at the door to the basement. I walked over and shut it. And then I pushed a chair against it. I knew it was kind of crazy, but I didn’t care. I felt entitled to a little absurdity, under the circumstances.
The Snowball Effect Page 3