Maybe by the time I got home, they would both hate me, and it’d be too late to date either of them. I knew I wouldn’t have an infinite number of chances to change my mind.
The next day at the LEGO store, Vallery watched Collin stare at boxes and boxes of LEGO sets while I stood behind her looking at the rack of personalized mugs.
“You know what we all have in common?” I asked.
“What?”
I held up a mug that said “Lisa.” “We can never find anything with our name on it.”
“Huh,” Vallery said. “That’s true.”
“Is he getting close to deciding?” I asked.
“Not at all.”
I kneeled down beside Collin. “So what are you thinking?”
He shrugged.
“Trains?” I checked the price tag. “No, not trains. Um. Oh, look, Batman.”
I checked the prices on three of the Batman sets and laid them on the floor in front of Collin. “Okay, here, I narrowed it down. Pick your favorite.”
I stood back up and looked around for Vallery, but she’d disappeared. Collin stared at the LEGOs.
“Are you thinking about it or just staring?” I asked.
“Thinking.”
“Okay.”
Several years passed before Collin decided on the Batmobile. When we turned, I saw Vallery running over to us.
“Look what I got,” she said with a smile. “I had them personalized.” She held up a plastic bag. I took a step closer and looked inside.
Three LEGO blocks, each one engraved with one of our names.
20
THE LAINEY PIKE WHIRLWIND RECONCILIATION TOUR
Before we left Orlando, we stopped at a drugstore. They had a one-hour photo lab. So while I shopped for snacks and a new cell-phone charger, Vallery handed over our twenty disposable cameras.
We sat in the Mustang and looked at the pictures. Pictures of Collin with Disney characters. Pictures of either me or Vallery on rides with Collin, waving and smiling. Pictures that Collin had taken himself, usually crooked and off-center.
We’d gotten only one picture of all three of us together. After standing in line for an hour to meet Mickey Mouse, Vallery’d gotten impatient and insisted that all three of us get in the same picture. She handed our camera to the people in line behind us. It wasn’t such a bad picture. Collin hadn’t looked at the camera, but at least we’d all smiled.
“Let’s look again,” he said when we’d looked at the last stack of pictures.
“We have to go home.” I passed them back to him. “Here. You can look, but don’t let them blow away.” I opened up my new cell-phone charger and plugged it in.
“Want to drive?” Vallery asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Why?”
“You think I have ulterior motives just because I’m letting you drive?”
“Yes.” She got out and walked around to the passenger’s side. I climbed over to the driver’s seat.
Vallery grinned. “Okay, I wanted to read that book you’ve been carrying around. I read the back and it sounds pretty good.”
I shrugged. “All right. It’s in my bag.”
“I’m a fast reader. We can talk about it when I’m done. Like a book club.”
I’d like to say that we had a quiet drive while Vallery read and Collin looked at the pictures, but that wasn’t how it happened.
Vallery turned a page in the book. “Oh my God, I can’t believe he just did that.”
Collin flipped through the pictures. “Goofy!” he screamed.
“What chapter?” I asked Vallery.
“Twelve. When they go to the ball.”
“Oh yeah, that sucked.”
“Lainey eats a pretzel!” Collin laughed.
Vallery kept me constantly updated on her progress. Collin looked at pictures and narrated our entire trip. But it was better than being covered in ice cream and arguing. It was better than CUT THE GREASE.
Before we even stopped for lunch, Vallery had finished the book.
She set it down on her lap. “This isn’t the kind of book I imagined you’d read. I thought you’d read Dickens just to prove how smart you are.”
“It was Mom’s. Her favorite book.”
“Well, that makes sense. I thought for sure that Michaela was going to stay with her husband.”
“Me too. But the mobster was actually better for her in the end, wasn’t he?”
“It seemed like he was. But she had to give up everything to be with him.”
As we drove on I-95 north toward Baltimore, toward home, we talked about the book. And it was nice. I’d never read a book and talked about it with someone else before, outside of English class, and that really wasn’t the same at all. Vallery and I talked about the characters like they were people, not like we were looking for symbolism or a moral or anything. And then it occurred to me that if I’d actually finished the book the first time I’d started it, when Mom had given it to me, I could have had this conversation with her. It could have gone on my short list of happy memories. But I’d screwed that all up, hadn’t I?
That night, while Vallery and Collin slept, Mom’s song came on the radio. It was a cheesy love song that she’d liked for as long as I could remember. It had been her and Carl’s song. And her and Daddy Steve’s song. Every time she got really serious about a man, it had been their song. I hadn’t heard it since Mom died. I didn’t usually play the easy-listening stations, but we’d been driving so long, I’d stopped caring what was on the radio, as long as it wasn’t static.
As I drove down the highway, I remembered Mom singing in the car as she drove me to school. If her song came on while she made dinner, she’d stop in the kitchen and dance. With Daddy Whoever, or with me, or just by herself. Even in her Dark Days, the song had been enough to cheer her up, at least for a few minutes.
I remembered what Aunt Liz had said about digging deep for those happy memories of Mom. I pictured Mom dancing. I pictured her smiling. I tried to remember.
I’d hated dancing with her. I’d complain and pull away. Sometimes I’d give in and sway with her, but most of the time, especially the older I got, I’d just roll my eyes and walk away.
Would it have really killed me to dance with her and not act like I hated every second of it?
I’d never made much of an effort, now that I thought about it.
I could have tried. I could have gone along with it when she tried to include me in her and Carl and Collin’s goofy family activities. I could have taken that step-aerobics class with her. I could have sat in on her groups once in a while. I could have listened to her when she talked. I could have talked to her about Riley. Maybe she could have talked to me about Carl and I could have understood why she loved him. She probably knew things about him that I didn’t know, things that might have helped me like him. I could have let her keep treating me like a queen on my birthdays. There had been so many times I’d spent so much energy pushing her away when it would have been easier to have given in and danced.
As Mom’s song played, my chest felt tight and for a second I was afraid I might be having a heart attack. Then I started to cry.
I cried for Mom, because she’d never get to sing again. I cried for Collin because he’d never remember her singing at all. And I cried for myself.
Mom hadn’t been the only problem lately. I’d been the problem, too.
I didn’t have an infinite number of chances.
And it was too late now.
I drove all night and let Vallery sleep. As we approached the Maryland state line, I finally unplugged my phone charger and turned the phone on. I had seventeen new messages.
Lainey, it’s Riley. Please come to the door and let me in. I just want to talk about your car. Okay? I’m waiting.
Okay, maybe you’re not home? Or maybe you don’t have your phone on you? I don’t know. Anyway, your car is running fine now. I’ll leave the key under the mat. Call me.
It’s Rodney. Please call
me as soon as you get this. You’re never going to believe who just showed up at my kiosk.
Hey, it’s Eric. Just wanted to see if you want to grab some burgers or something. Call me.
Hi, sweetheart, it’s Mabel. I haven’t seen you kids around in a few days and I just wanted to check in. Please call me. I’ll try the house phone again.
Lainey, I don’t like what you’re doing. I can’t get ahold of Vallery or you. You’re not home. I’m starting to worry. Please call me. (Riley for the third time.)
Hey, Laine. It’s Kara. Riley asked me to check in. He hopes you’re ignoring him, but he’s kind of worried that something’s wrong. Please give him a call and let him know you’re all right. Okay? And then call me back. Love you. Bye.
Okay, Lainey. I sat outside of Collin’s school, and you didn’t come to get him, and neither did Vallery. I saw a weird guy hanging around your house the other day when I was fixing your car—that was the last day I saw you, actually, and I’m really worried. Call me.
Hey, Laine. It’s Kara again. Riley’s freaked. I tried to explain that when you’re upset you just want to be alone. But he said, “It’s not just Lainey, they’re all gone.” So I said maybe your whole family’s just like you and maybe you’re all upset and want to be alone. I told him that your phone is off so you probably haven’t gotten any of his messages. He said he’s going to break into your house if he doesn’t hear from you by tonight. So please just call him.
Hey, it’s Eric. Could you please just give me a call and tell me what’s going on? I know we never made anything official, but I kind of felt like we were heading in a certain direction, and if that’s not the direction you want to head in, that’s fine, but I think I deserve a little better than just being ignored. So call me, all right? See ya.
I just busted out your back window and looked through the house to see if I could find…I don’t even know what the hell I was looking for. But I don’t know where you are, and this is really not cool, Lainey. For real. I’m going to fix your window, and then if I don’t hear from you soon, I’m going to the police.
Hi, Lainey, it’s your father. I had two interesting phone calls this morning. First Liz called to say you’d been by to visit her. So you’re in Florida? I wish you’d told me. It would have been nice to see you before you left. But I guess you’re busy with your girl friends. (Loud sigh.) Oh, so then your friend Kara called me. She didn’t seem to know where you were and she was pretty worried. I didn’t know if your trip with your other friends was a secret or whatnot, so I just told her that I’d talked to you this morning and you were fine. So you might want to give Kara a call. And me, too, if you want. I miss you, kid. It’s been so long since I heard from you. I love you. Drive safe.
Oh God. Dad. I found it so easy to push him out of my mind and forget that he even existed. And there he was, worried about me, sounding like a normal father. He’d even lied to Kara for me.
I still had five messages.
Hey, it’s Eric. You know what? I wish you’d talk to me, but I guess I’ll take a hint. I’m sorry if I did something wrong.
Kara just called and said she talked to your dad. I didn’t even think of calling him. Anyway, he said he heard from you, so that makes me feel a million times better. But what the hell is wrong with you that you’d let us worry for so long? I’m going to beat you when I see you. No kidding. You might want to lay low for a few more days. I love you, Lainey, even if you are a huge pain in the ass.
Riley still loved me?
Well, that didn’t mean anything. Kara loved me too, but she didn’t pine after me.
Okay, I talked to your dad and he said he heard from you and you’re fine. Now I’m more worried than ever. What the hell are you doing calling your dad but not us? Is he lying? Did he really kill you and bury you in his backyard? Jesus Christ, call me.
Oh my God, it’s Kara again. Christine is in labor. Like, right now. I’ll call you when I know more.
Oh my God, it’s Kara again. Christine had the baby. It’s a girl! I wish you were here. Call me.
As we got closer to Baltimore, I waited for everything to look familiar again. But nothing did. We were ten miles from home, and then five miles, and everything still looked strange. Every highway looked the same.
But then I exited the highway and recognized Corben, the supermarkets and the gas stations and the stores and the trash and graffiti. And then our street, finally.
I shook Vallery. “We’re home.”
Vallery listened to the messages on our answering machine. They were pretty much the same as the ones on my voice mail, except for one from Deborah, the woman who wanted to buy Mom’s notebooks.
“I guess I should call that woman back and tell her I couldn’t find anything,” Vallery said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Are you going to work?”
She nodded. “What are you doing? Can you stay with Collin?”
“You’re not taking him to camp?”
“It’s the last day. Why bother? I’ll ask if Mabel wants to watch him.”
After Vallery had changed into her work clothes and taken Collin next door, I thought about what to do next. There were so many people to call back. I started to make a list in my head, in no particular order, of people I really should make up with before the day ended:
Eric—even though he’d written me off and wasn’t even worried that I might be dead. He deserved an explanation.
Riley—even though he was probably completely in love with Stupid Gina by now and only loved me as a friend.
Christine—under the circumstances I could probably just stop talking to her completely. High school was over and I didn’t have to see her every day anymore. But she had always tried to be a good friend to me. And I kind of wanted to go to the hospital and see the baby and apologize to her for Vallery being a lunatic, so things could be normal again.
Kara—apologize and thank her for dealing with Riley for me.
Deborah—well, not really make up with her, but decide what I was going to do about her.
Dad—apologize for being a jerk. Maybe even explain why. Maybe even thank him for lying to Kara for me.
I hesitated for a second and then I added Mom to my list. I wasn’t sure how I was going to make up with her, but I knew I had to. Since it hadn’t all been her fault.
I was about to call Kara (to start with an easy one), but then I remembered Rodney’s message about his mystery visitor. I decided that would make a good lighthearted warm-up phone call. I could practice my explanation on someone who hadn’t been all that bothered by my absence. Perfect.
“Hello?” Rodney said.
“Hey, it’s Lainey. I just got your message. I’m so sorry. There was this guy…from Texas…and then I told Vallery, and she flipped out, and we drove to Orlando, and…then we came home….” Okay, so maybe my explanation needed a lot more practice. “Anyway, who was your mystery visitor?”
Rodney laughed. “Your boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Well, I guess you guys broke up or whatever. I forget his name. Soccer boy.”
Oh. So he’d just seen Riley at the mall. No big deal. “Yeah?” I asked.
“Well, he wanted to talk to me.”
“About what?”
“You.” Rodney started to laugh. “He told me that he respects you as a person and he respects your decisions, but he’s really in love with you and he thinks he might still have a shot. He’d appreciate it if I’d step aside and let him have one more try to win you over.”
I didn’t even know what to say. “He thinks I’m dating you?”
Rodney laughed. “Apparently. Anyway, he wasn’t a dick about it at all. He came and said what he had to say, and I tried to convince him that there’s nothing going on between us—and that I hadn’t even known you two had broken up, actually, thanks for telling me—but he just kept saying, ‘It’s cool, man.’ Then he rambled on some more about how much he loves you. I didn’t know what to do. So fi
nally I agreed to step aside. Anyway, what happened? How’d he try to win you back?”
“He hasn’t. I haven’t talked to him yet.”
“Well, you gotta let me know what happens. I’ve never seen someone so heartsick in my life. It was sad and hilarious all at the same time.”
After I got off the phone with Rodney, I called Kara. I didn’t even want to take a moment to think about what Rodney had just told me. If I let myself get sidetracked, I’d never get through my list.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Kara.
“It’s all right. Where have you been hiding out? Did you elope with Eric?”
“We went to Orlando for a few days,” I said. “Not me and Eric. Me and Vallery and Collin.” An inadequate explanation, but at least it was coherent.
“Jesus. You could have let someone know.”
“You’re right, I should have. But it was kind of a surprise. Vallery’s ex-boyfriend showed up, and she freaked out, and we left and then just kind of had a vacation for Collin, to make up for his birthday party sucking so bad.”
“That’s sweet. But you still should have called.”
“I know. I’m an awful person. Anyway, are you still at the hospital?”
“No, I’m at home. I have to work tonight, so I need to get some sleep.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean to keep you up. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not bothering me. It’s good to hear your voice.”
After I got off the phone with Kara, I emptied my book bag on the floor. I pulled Mom’s notebooks out from under my mattress and shoved them inside. I slung the bag over my shoulder and went out to the car. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with them, but I wanted to have them with me.
The Snowball Effect Page 24