Hummingbird Heart

by Robin Stevenson

  I picked up the phone and dialed her number. One ring, two, three…Her voice mail clicked on. “Hey, it’s Toni. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back. Don’t hang up…I have enough hangups already.”

  I hung up anyway. I couldn’t believe I’d told Jax that she was pregnant. What the hell was wrong with me?

  Karma was lying on the couch in her pajamas, reading a book and eating toast. I could smell peanut butter. “Feels weird, doesn’t it?” She spoke without lifting her eyes from her book. “Like a sick day or something.”

  I knew what she meant. It was too quiet in here, too dark outside. We had nothing to do and nowhere to go. I thought of the Dr. Seuss book Mom used to read to me when I was little: So all we could do was just sit, sit, sit, sit. “Yeah. It does.”

  I’d stayed up half the night, long after everyone had gone, messing around on my computer. Wikipedia said bone marrow was the soft tissue found in the hollow interior of bones. I’d never thought of bones as hollow.

  I lifted my legs and hung them over the arm of my chair. Marrow, apparently, was also a kind of squash, a character in the X-Men comics, and the name of a sci-fi novel. I punched my thigh with my fist, hard.

  It figured that bones weren’t as solid as they looked. Nothing was. “I’m going out,” I told Karma.

  I pedaled as hard as I could and made it through downtown and to the harbor in less than ten minutes. When I got off my bike, my legs felt as limp as cooked spaghetti and my hands were shaking. I pulled off my helmet and locked my bike to a No Parking sign in front Mark’s hotel.

  I didn’t know what I was doing. All the way here I’d been having these conversations in my mind—well, not conversations exactly, because Mark never said anything. There was just all this stuff I wanted to say to him, running through my mind in a full-volume shout. Like, What gives you the right to come here and mess up my life? Stuff like that. But I didn’t have a plan, and really, none of this was his fault, and now that I was standing outside his hotel it all seemed a bit stupid and melodramatic. I thought maybe I wouldn’t go in after all. Maybe I’d just go home.

  I turned my back on the building and watched a lone jogger running along the path near the waterfront. A seagull walked across the grass, pecking at some piece of food it had found. In the harbor, the roar of a seaplane engine briefly blotted out all the other sounds. I felt like lying down on the wet grass and going to sleep.

  “Dylan?”

  I turned around slowly. Mark was standing there, and beside him, holding his hand, was a little girl in a shiny yellow raincoat covered with drawings of big green frogs.

  “We’ve just been for a walk,” he said. “Dylan, this is Casey.”

  I stared at her for a long moment before I managed to drag my gaze back to him. “Um, I was just riding my bike.”

  “Were you looking for us? Have you been…?” He gestured at the hotel.

  I shook my head. “No. Not exactly. I don’t know.”

  We stood there for a long moment. I noticed that Casey had matching frog rain boots with googly eyes on the toes. “I guess I better, you know.” I pointed at my bike. “Get going.”

  “Daddy?” Casey was tugging at Mark’s sleeve. “You said we could go in the gift shop again.”

  She didn’t look like me, I decided. Not at all. She must look like her mom.

  “Do you want to come in?” Mark asked. “Perhaps you and Casey could play together a bit? If you wanted?”

  Right. I bit off a sarcastic reply: What am I, four? “I should go.”

  Casey tugged at her dad’s arm again. “Daddy, I want to go to the gift shop.” Her mouth actually turned down at the corners, way down, like a little emoticon sad face.

  “Are you sure? Casey has this great dollhouse. I bet she’d love to show you.”

  “How come you want me to hang out now?” I asked. I could see Casey watching me and chose my words carefully. “I already said I’d help out.”

  “Sorry.” He looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

  I shrugged. “I just wondered why, that’s all.”

  “I’d like…” He cleared his throat. “I know I’m a bit preoccupied right now. With…” He nodded toward Casey. “But I know she’d enjoy showing it to you. And, well, you are my…like I told you before, I’d like to get to know you.”

  Daughter. He’d almost said it. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll come see her dollhouse. But I can’t stay long.” Then I blushed. It wasn’t like he’d asked me to stay.

  Casey’s dollhouse was set up in the middle of their suite’s living room, and it took up most of the available space. I’d never been into dolls or dollhouses, but I couldn’t help being impressed. It was three stories high, wooden, with a shingled roof and gently curving circular staircases, and it was filled with perfect miniature furniture, rugs and curtains and everything.

  “How did you get this on the plane?” I asked.

  Mark laughed. “Lisa did that. It all comes apart, but it’s a big job. Took her three hours to set it all up when they arrived.”

  “Wow.” I picked up a tiny clawfoot tub. “This is amazing.”

  “That’s a bathtub,” Casey informed me.

  She didn’t have any hair, but other than that she didn’t look sick at all. Her head was mostly covered in a cute knit hat, all pink and green stripes, and she was wearing a matching pink and green sweater. She had a round, fat-cheeked face and dimples when she smiled. She didn’t look like a kid who was dying. “It’s a great bathtub,” I agreed. “I like the little feet.”

  Casey had moved on. She picked up a crib made of white painted wooden slats as narrow as toothpicks. “This is for the baby.”

  “Cute. Do you have one like that? At home, I mean?”

  She looked at me disdainfully. “I sleep in a big-girl bed. Not a baby one.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Casey pointed at an upstairs bedroom. “This is the mommy and daddy’s room. See?”

  Two dolls lay side by side on a double bed covered with a white comforter the size of a Kleenex. All very Ken and Barbie. “Where’s Casey’s mom?” I asked Mark. “I mean, she’s here too, right?”

  He nodded. “She went out for a run.”

  I turned my attention back to the dollhouse. “You know, I bet you’d love Miniature World,” I told Casey. “It’s all, you know, scenes set up with miniature stuff.”

  “Min…Minner world?”

  “Miniature World.” I looked at Mark. He was still standing, leaning against the kitchenette counter. “It’s this place downtown. Tourist attraction.”

  He nodded. “Let’s go there.”

  “You too,” Casey informed me.

  “Oh, your dad will take you. You’ll have fun with your dad.” I looked at Mark for agreement, but instead he smiled at me.

  “Why don’t we all go? You and Casey could spend some time together.”

  I turned my back on Casey and lowered my voice, almost mouthing the words. “Does she know who… I mean, that we’re…?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.”

  Casey tugged at my arm again. “What are you saying? What are you talking about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t whisper! It’s rude.”

  Casey had two vertical lines between her eyebrows. Like mine. She’d have wrinkles by sixteen, too, if she didn’t stop frowning. Except, of course, she might never make it past four. I swallowed a lump the size of a golf ball and thought of dark blood and hollow bones. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll come too.”

  “I didn’t realize you meant to go there now,” I said to Mark while Casey struggled back into her raincoat and boots. “I mean, today.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off Casey. “If all this has taught us anything, it’s that today’s the best time to do things. I’ll call Lisa and tell her to meet us there.” Then he looked at me as if he’d just remembered who he was talking to. “Sorry. Is today okay? Did you have to be somewhere else?�
��

  “Not really. No.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve got my bike. I’ll meet you there.”

  Cycling down around the inner harbor with the cold rain hard against my face gave me a chance to think. I hadn’t intended to meet Casey at all, and I hadn’t even been sure I wanted to see Mark again, yet here I was, playing tourist with them. I tightened my grip on the handlebars and wondered why.

  TWenTY-FIVe

  “Miniature World: The Greatest Little Show on Earth,” I said, reading the sign aloud for Casey. She grabbed my hand, which took me by surprise. I wasn’t really a kid-person. Mom said I’d always preferred the company of adults, even when I was little. I’d never been the babysitting type. I’d spent time with Karma, of course, but she’d been eight by the time she joined our family. So I wasn’t too sure how to act with Casey.

  Fortunately, Miniature World was open—I hadn’t thought to check before we came. It was pretty much deserted though, the summer’s tourists long gone. Mark had called Lisa on her cell phone. Apparently she was already downtown and would be able to join us.

  It was lucky it was so empty, since Casey was practically shrieking with excitement by the time we got inside. Lisa arrived, still in her running clothes and with her hair wet from the rain, just as we were paying for our admission. She was a short fair woman, a little plump, with shoulder-length hair and an anxious smile. She kept patting my shoulder in a weird, almost compulsive manner. “So nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. It seemed unlikely, given that Mark knew almost nothing about me.

  She turned pink and patted my shoulder again. “We’re very grateful.” She glanced at Casey. “You know. For…”

  “No big thing,” I said quickly.

  “Huge, for us.”

  “Yeah, well. You know. Hopefully…”

  “Hopefully.” Lisa nodded agreement. “We’re all keeping our fingers crossed.” She actually crossed her fingers for real and held them up, smiling at me.

  “You bet.” I crossed mine and held them up too, feeling like a complete dork.

  She patted my shoulder again.

  I moved away. Casey and Mark were already heading down the darkened hallway toward the exhibits. “Shall we?”

  “Yes, yes. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “No, it’s fine.” I practically sprinted down the hallway toward the others. “Casey! Wait up!”

  We skipped past the miniature trains and the battle scenes and quickly found the room Casey wanted to see.

  “World’s largest dollhouses,” I whispered, bending down to Casey’s level. She was just tall enough to see the displays without an adult lifting her up.

  I thought she’d rush from one dollhouse to the next, but she took her time, carefully studying each one. She was wide-eyed and silent, staring at the tiny rooms and pointing wordlessly at one tiny piece of furniture after another. “Pretty cool, huh?” I said.

  Casey nodded. “Pretty cool.”

  It sounded funny coming from a little kid, and Lisa laughed. “That’ll be her new phrase now, Dylan.”

  I wondered if she had noticed how much I looked like Mark. It must have been pretty strange finding out that her husband had a teenage daughter. I straightened up and looked at her. “She’s a cute kid.”

  “She is.” Lisa looked like she was going to say something more, but she just cleared her throat and patted my shoulder again.

  I forced a smile and turned back to Casey. “Let’s go look at the next one. Okay? See, it’s got a baby’s room, just like your dollhouse does. A nursery, they used to call it. These are olden-days houses, aren’t they?”

  Casey nodded. “They have horsies outside.”

  “Instead of cars. That’s right.”

  “And buggies. Horsies and buggies.” She looked up at me. “I’ve been on a horsey.”

  “Have you? Wow.”

  Casey nodded, her face serious. “A white horsey called Buddy.”

  “That’s great,” I said. For some reason, my chest was starting to feel all tight. It was too quiet in here, and too small. Narrow walkways and carpeted floors that absorbed sounds. Cavelike. I felt claustrophobic.

  “Someday I’m going to have a horsey of mine own,” Casey told me.

  I nodded. “That’d be nice. What would you call it?”

  Casey shrugged. “I don’t know.” Then she giggled. “Silly.”

  “You’d call it Silly?”

  More giggles. “No, you’re silly.”

  “I am? Why?”

  Casey didn’t answer. She stared at the house for a long minute. “It’s got a chimney.”

  I tried to focus, but my eyes were wet and everything was blurry. I blinked hard. “I have to go, Casey. I have to get home.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t look away from the house.

  I stepped away from her. Mark and Lisa were standing behind us, just a few feet away, in an obvious attempt to give us space while still being able to hear every word. “I should get going,” I said. “I don’t want to leave Karma on her own for too long.”

  “Maybe we can get together again,” Lisa said. “We’re here for a few more days.”

  I stepped past them in the narrow aisle, not able to meet their eyes, barely able to see through the shimmery haze of my tears. “Maybe.”

  TWenTY-SIX

  Karma and I were watching TV when Mom got home late on Sunday morning. I looked up and hit the Mute button on the remote. “Hey. How was the concert?”

  “Good. Great. Unbelievable.” Her smile faded when she looked at me. She gave me a hard-eyed stare. “Well. How was your weekend?”

  I knew I looked terrible: I hadn’t washed my hair, I had dark circles under my eyes and for some reason, my lips were all chapped. “Fine.”

  On the television, a field was sprouting a forest of windmills. “What’re you watching?” she asked.

  “A show about greenhouse gas emissions. Um, alternative energy sources.” I switched the television off and passed the remote to Karma. “You want this? I have to make a couple of calls.”

  “You’re going to make calls now? I just got home.” Mom unzipped her jacket. “Aren’t you going to tell me about your weekend?”

  “Nothing to tell, really.”

  Karma switched to a reality TV show and turned the volume back on. Wannabe models tripped down a runway in heels high enough to break their spindly ankles.

  “How can you watch this?” Mom asked. “It’s total crap. Encouraging girls to obsess about their appearance.” She shook her head. “Encouraging them to see other girls as competition. Life’s hard enough without that.”

  Karma scowled. “I like it. Anyway, it’s just a show.”

  “I’ll be in my room,” I said.

  “What’s wrong?” Mom put her hand on my arm.

  I pulled away. “Nothing. I just don’t feel like talking.”

  Karma tucked her feet beneath her and spoke without taking her eyes off the screen. “She broke up with her boyfriend.”

  “Oh. Dylan…I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. I glared at Karma. “Mind your own business, okay?” Then I took off for my room before I started to cry.

  Within about two minutes, Mom knocked. She pushed my door open a few inches. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  I was lying on my bed, pretending to read.

  “Are you okay?”

  I put my book down and rolled onto my side to face her. “I guess.”

  “Oh baby.” Mom had that let–me-kiss-it-better tone in her voice. “I’m sorry. I guess you really liked him.”

  It was too much. I burst into tears and ducked my head, hiding my face.

  Mom sat down beside me and put her hand on my back. “Oh baby. Pickle.”

  I was still angry with her, but at the same time I wanted to curl up and put my head on her lap like I used to when I was younger. “It’s ju
st…I don’t think I liked him much anyway,” I whispered.

  “You didn’t? But…”

  “I don’t even know why I went out with him. It was all just stupid.”

  She waited, rubbing my back lightly.

  “Mom?” I caught my breath and shot her a fleeting sideways glance. “Do you think I’m, you know, normal?”

  She snorted. “What’s normal anyway?”

  “Don’t get all new-age on me. I mean normal. As in, like other people.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to be like anyone else. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” She frowned. “I mean, you’re not…you’re not hearing voices or anything like that?”

  I shook my head impatiently and pulled away from her hand. I sat up. “No. Just, you know, with Jax. I never really wanted to…do anything.” My cheeks were on fire and I couldn’t even look at her.

  “Sex, you mean?”

  “Mom! God.”

  She laughed. “Lighten up, Pickle. Isn’t it supposed to be parents who are uptight about discussing sex?”

  She wasn’t, that was for sure. I’d heard way too many details about her sex life.

  “Maybe you just didn’t like him enough. Or trust him enough or feel comfortable with him. Maybe he wasn’t your type and you just weren’t that attracted to him.”

  “He’s good-looking. Everyone thinks so.”

  “So?”

  “So maybe there’s something wrong with me. That’s all.”

  “Are you attracted to girls? Is that it?”

  I thought of Toni and how often I wished it could just be the two of us, like it used to be. Growing old and living together and rescuing dogs. Was that being attracted to someone? Even if I never thought about kissing her or anything like that? I loved Toni. And I was sort of jealous of Finn. But…