“So everything’s set?” she asks, her tone demanding. Mom lets out a small giggle. “Wonderful.”
Alarm starts gushing through me. Mom doesn’t giggle. It doesn’t sound like she’s talking to a friend.
“Of course I care about my daughter but she’s eighteen. She’s an adult, she can take care of herself. I am not being harsh. Trust me, that girl doesn’t need anyone. If anything she’ll be glad to have me out of her life.” There’s a pause and I consider going down there and demanding to know what’s going on. But she starts talking again and I don’t make a noise.
“What about him? Yes, I know he’s my husband but—”
I lean forward even though I can’t hear what the other person is saying.
“You want me to bring him with me?” she asks unbelievingly. “Are you kidding? I am very aware of his condition but the whole point of going with you is to escape everything. Not bring a piece of my old life along.”
Dread fills my stomach as another pause stretches out. I’m hearing everything she says but none of it is sinking in. I must be dreaming. I have to be.
“You want me to bring him . . . so we can dump him off at some mental hospital because you think my daughter is incapable of looking after him, this is what you’re telling me? What do we do if he gets better?”
I watch her stormy face turn passive and her tense body relax. I, on the other hand, am becoming rigid with anger. If she’s leaving fine. I doubt there’s anything I can do to stop her, but to take Dad as well? That’s unfair.
“Alright then. Love you.” Mom snaps her phone shut and turns to head up the stairs. Dark scrambles away.
“Lissa!” she exclaims, startled, apprehensive.
“Mom.”
She clears her throat. “It’s awfully late—”
“Yes it is,” I interrupt. She hesitantly walks up a few steps, unsure if she should bring up the phone call or not. I make that decision for her.
“Who were you talking to?” Before she can give me any lies I add, “Tell me the truth. I heard everything.”
Looking trapped she comes to sit next to me. “Look, Lissa, I will explain but I need you to have an open mind. Okay?”
“Sure,” I agree though I don’t intend to actually do so.
“A couple months ago I met this man. He swept me off my feet and now he wants to ‘sweep me away to his castle,’ ” she says giddily.
I don’t say a word.
Uncomfortably she continues, “I couldn’t keep my marriage or you from him so I told him everything and he understands my plight.”
Mom has a plight? I frown at her. Only she would call living in Abandon and dealing with Dad a plight.
“For a long time now I’ve wanted to move to Cardinal City to be closer to my business and possibly get your dad some help. He’s always opposed the idea because he thought it was best for you to grow up here. Well you’re grown up now and I think it’s time for us to move on. Especially now with your dad being the way he is.”
I look at the wall, still not saying anything. It makes me even angrier that she sounds hopeful—like I might actually get on board with her plan.
“I know it’s a lot to take in but Aaron is such a good man. He’s so generous—he even offered to help pay for your father’s care, he has the funds for that you know. I’m still going to divorce your father but Aaron wants to make sure he gets the care he needs. He cares about you too! He says you can come with us or stay with your father, whichever you choose.”
“That’s messed up Mom. You cheated on Dad and now you’re trying to ship him off.”
Her gaze hardens. “Your dad is not here anymore Lissa.”
I glare at her as she continues, “I am trying to move on and get my life back. Whether or not you decide to come with me is up to you but honestly, I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“Wish granted,” I say quietly. “I wouldn’t even dream of going with you and your stupid boyfriend. You can forget about taking Dad too. He stays here with me.”
Mom stands. “I can’t do that. Aaron will be disappointed in me if I leave him. Plus he’s right. Your father does need help and you can’t help him.”
I struggle to keep my voice down as I say, “You don’t care about him; I don’t think you ever have!”
“That’s not true,” she growls.
“Then prove it. Don’t take him with you.”
“No.” She heads for their room and I desperately say, “Please don’t take him. He’ll never forgive you if you do. I will never forgive you.”
Mom sighs and turns to look at me. “It’s time for a change Lissa.” She closes the door to their room quietly. I guess we’re done talking about it tonight. I’m not going to just let it go though. I’ll have to bring it up tomorrow when she gets home from work.
Exhausted I head back to my own room and fall into bed, my headache forgotten.
Chapter 6
I think I get a total of two and half hours of sleep. My brain doggedly stayed in the place just before you fall asleep but you're still awake. I don’t know if Darklily stayed with me or not, but she isn’t in my room when I get up.
The sun is pouring through the window, filling my room with honey rays. I know without looking at the time that I’m late for school. Ugh. I also have my English test today. Good thing it’s my last class. I should be able to make it. I swing out of bed and look in the mirror. It looks like I haven’t slept or brushed my hair in days. I’m a mess. But I only put it up in a ponytail before heading downstairs. It's not like anyone will notice anyway.
Downstairs, I open the last package of pop tarts and throw both in the toaster. I go to get orange juice from the fridge and see a note, stuck in place by a smiling sun magnet.
Mom’s long graceful letters are written on her expensive ivory business paper. Last night rushes back to me full force. Our conversation reverberates around in my head. I sink to the floor, pressing my hands to my eyes. She might have been a terrible mother at times, but she brought me into this world. I know she once showed me love like a mother would. I’m connected to her in a way that would be impossible for me to cut entirely. Maybe it’s not what I think it is. But I know it’s exactly that.
Dear Lissa,
I’m sorry but we could not wait for you. Of course, you could always change your mind—Aaron insists on giving you a second chance. I’ve arranged for Kelly to come by once a week until you’ve made up your mind. There’s a thousand in a purse under the couch. This should be enough to buy you a ticket. You have my cellphone number, call if you do change your mind. I’ll give you directions and such.
Have Fun, Mom.
Everything around me freezes. The thoughts that start flowing are like knives. I can’t believe she actually left me. Alone. How could she? I read and reread the note. Over and over trying to make sense of it. Trying to make different words appear. I’m angry, heartbroken, and unable to comprehend if this is actually happening.
I quickly scramble over to the couch and reach under. After some searching my hand hits an object. I pull out one of mom’s old purses. Inside, there’s money wrapped in tissue paper at the bottom. I crush the note in my palm.
Anger rages through me. No. This wasn’t happening—it couldn’t be. Dad wouldn’t leave me. I race up the stairs two at a time and stop in front of their closed door. I have to take a few deep breaths before I can knock. No answer. Dreading what I’ll see, I open the door. Empty. All that’s left is the heavy furniture.
I wonder how long she’s been planning this. Could she really have packed it all up overnight? I slam the door closed and race down to Dad’s office. It’s even barer than I remember. A rusty lamp sits in the far corner, a tipped over broken chair in the middle of the room and a moldy rolled up rug. I turn to leave but a faint glint catches my eye and I stop. On top of the right bookshelf is a metal box.
These shelves haven’t held books in years, but they look sturdy enough, so I step on the third one. It groans. I go up a
nother. It groans louder than the first. One more and I’ll be able to reach the box. It doesn’t make a sound. I hold on with one arm and reach for the box with the other. I clutch the box tightly. Feeling the shelf begin to sink with my weight I jump down. The box has a DF carved on the top. My father’s initials. Did he really leave without me? Tears spring to my eyes. How could he? It wasn’t something he would do.
I look down at the box. I don’t know if I want to open it. I have no idea what will be in it—if anything—and I’m not sure I’m ready for more surprises. I take the box to my room and shove it in my dresser. I let out the breath I’d been holding, my decision made. I will open it later.
Dread follows me to the principal’s office. I take a deep breath before knocking.
“Come in,” the principal barks. Mr. Strickland is a very no-nonsense person who seriously needs a vacation. He has thin gray hair and eyes that have a dull quality to them. Mr. Strickland is overweight and has a deep, rough voice. His head is bent over a newspaper, a frown of concentration etched on his face. I stand there shifting restlessly or nervously, I can’t tell which one. Finally he looks up at me.
“Well, look who decided to show up for school.” Mr. Strickland leans back in his chair and assesses me. I probably look worse than I did when I looked at myself this morning.
“Since there’s only a day of school left, now is not the time to be skipping Miss Fleming.”
“I know and I’m sorry but I had a really rough night and morning.”
“Really?” He motions to a single brown tattered chair in the corner. I sink into it. I don’t know how much longer I can hold in this tsunami of emotions. I think he’s waiting for me to explain, but I keep silent.
Mr. Strickland releases a heavy sigh. “Don’t expect pity. I treat every student in my school the same, but if you want to get off on minimum punishment I’ll need some kind of explanation.”
I tell him I took something for my headache and that it must’ve made me oversleep. I leave out the part about waking up home alone. Few people will believe that Mom ran off with another man and left me. Plus, bringing it to light will raise tons of questions and most of them I don’t have the answer to.
Mr. Strickland strokes his chin. He seems to be trying to decide whether or not I’m telling the truth. “I suppose I believe you.”
“Thank you,” I say immensely relieved.
“You’ve had a rough life.”
I don’t respond.
“I’ll give you a pass and you can make up anything you missed in the study room.”
“Thank you.” I go out the door feeling slightly lighter than when I went in.
Except for a lot of stares and a few surprisingly concerned looks, school goes better than I expected.
When school finishes Fawn pesters me mercilessly to tell her what has me so upset. “You look absolutely terrible,” she says.
“I know Fawn, but I’m really tired. I’ll tell you tomorrow . . . or something, all right?”
She studies me. “You’re always so secretive.”
“I’m not—”
Fawn laughs. “I’m just trying to get you to smile.”
I attempt one, but it's weak. Fawn’s eyes suddenly glow. “See you later,” she says abruptly. I whirl around to see what got her so excited, but the street is clear.
I’m relieved when she walks away. If I could just be alone for a little while and straighten my thoughts out I’d be fine. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Ryan exiting. I feel myself panic. I look like I got run over. Our eyes meet for only a split second before he quickly looks away. I grit my teeth. Lexi. It’s all I need to send me overboard. Tears start pouring down my face as I furiously peddle home.
I collapse off my bike when I reach the doorstep. My tears dried with the wind whipping against my face. My legs are sore from the too-fast pace. My headache is starting to come back as well. I don’t want to go inside to the emptiness, but the outside is oozing with loneliness as well. It seems to mock my suffering heart. I’ve lived here most of my life. It’s my home. And she has tainted it. Not just once, but again and again, over and over. I swallow hard against the fresh wave of sobs. Once again she hadn’t said good-bye. And this one was the most important good-bye of all, because she was never coming back.
I sit on the couch, hunched in a ball, wrapped in a blanket of self-pity. Who said they hated self-pity? a voice in my head snaps. I blink a few times; I give myself a mental slap. Twenty minutes is more than enough time to wallow.
I take a deep breath and try to sort out my thoughts. I decide to list the bad things: Mom has left for good with Dad, Lexi has told Ryan a lie. That needs to be straightened out immediately. Maybe things aren’t so bad—minus Dad being gone. I was basically already living my life without Mom. I can make the money she gave me and what I’ve saved last until I start my summer job at Twisted Ribbons: Candy & Ice Cream Parlor.
I sigh, feeling some of the burden dissipate. I could fix one of those bad things.
The initial shock has worn off, leaving an empty space behind. Realizing Dad was gone had freaked me out most. Maybe once I’ve pulled myself together more I can call her and ask where Dad is. If she won’t tell me then I’ll track him down. If he’s in a good place then maybe I’ll find somewhere for myself close by. Mom had been right about one thing: it was time to move on, for things to change. I had been planning on leaving anyway, maybe not this way but plans change. I’ll just have to make a new plan. I can do that.
Chapter 7
School has been over for three days. Long days. I skipped graduation, preferring to burrow myself under the covers instead. The house is depressingly empty in the mornings and eerily quiet at night. I have a large, black stuffed-dog named Shadow. I hug her tightly at night. I don’t care if it's childish; I just need something concrete; I’ve never wanted a hug or to be held so badly.
I mostly keep to myself unless I’m with Fawn. But ever since school let out Fawn’s dad has kept her busy being the store’s cashier—and so has someone else. I’m guessing it’s a boy, but I haven’t run across him. I tuck myself away behind the library’s computer a lot of the time, searching for ways I can track down Dad. However, I’m mainly trying to avoid Darklily stalking me. I feel bad for evading her, but my aching heart demands my undivided attention.
Ryan still won’t meet my eyes, and when he thinks I’m not looking he’ll disappear. I need to approach him and find out what’s wrong, but every time I take a step in his direction my brain freezes. I have no idea what to say.
But I want this over with; I don’t care if Ryan never speaks to me again. I just need to clarify whatever Lexi told him, because Ryan deserves the truth. If he’ll believe it. So I corner him in the cereal aisle of our grocery store. Ryan nearly jumps out of his skin when I approach him. I find it hard not to laugh at his shock.
“We need to talk.”
“Yes we do,” he says, relieved. “Let me just pay.” Ryan pays for his items then follows me to where I lead him, a bench in the park.
“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. Lexi told me about something you did a few years ago . . . and I just don’t know if I want a friend like that,” he rushes out, fiddling with his grocery bag.
I look ahead of us and watch a lady wearing a long, flowing purple dress struggle with her St. Bernard as it pulls her forward.
“Did she tell you I copied all the pages of personal things I’d written that people had told me, then distributed them all over school?”
“Something like that.” Ryan looks at me for a second then looks away.
The St. Bernard stops pulling and starts digging while the lady tugs desperately at the leash.
“It wasn’t me.”
Ryan looks at me hard. “It was your journal, you wrote the things down. You were the only person who knew, you’re the only person who could’ve done it.”
“I know, but I would never do that! Lexi stole my journal when she slept over three days befor
e everything got out. It was missing, then she broke into my house and returned it!”
“I don’t know Lissa,” he says slowly.
“I’m telling the truth!”
“Can you look me in the eye and promise you didn’t do it?”
“I promise I never copied a single page or hung it in the school or even breathed a word,” my voice is desperate, pleading.
Ryan continues to hold my gaze and the energy between us intensifies. Finally he breaks away and says, “I believe you. No wonder everyone at school is rude to you.”
I slump down with obvious relief. “Yeah. No one ever even doubted that I did it. I thought someone would stand up for me—” my voice breaks and I take a few deep breaths.
“I would’ve stood up for you.”
A policeman walks over to the lady and starts pointing to the hole. She gives a helpless shrug. The policeman pulls at the dog’s collar.
“No, you wouldn’t have. You probably would’ve been hit too. But it's over and I know the truth.”
Ryan doesn’t say anything. A deep bark makes us both look over at the lady and her dog. The St. Bernard has stopped digging, but sees a squirrel race across the grass. The dog bolts after it, dragging the woman into the dirt.
“I burned the pages.” I look at Ryan. “Every single one. To be honest I haven’t written anything since. It all stays up here.” I tap the side of my forehead.
Ryan gives me a look I can’t decipher and I look away.
The policeman marches over to the lady and helps her stand up. She’s covered in dirt and grass from head to toe. The lady begins snapping at the policeman. Then out of nowhere the St. Bernard runs up and crashes into the police officer. The man crumples to the ground in a heap, the dog racing off once his victim is entirely towed over.
Ryan and I simultaneously burst into laughter. The policeman stands and shakes his fist at the lady, roaring at her. All the while she covers her mouth with her hand. I clearly hear “menacing dog” and “ought to be put down.”
Shift (The Pandorma Adventures Book 1) Page 6