A Million Ways Home

by Dianna Dorisi Winget

  A quick scan of the parking area told me who was home — our landlady, Mrs. Gilly, and elderly Mr. Jenkins. But not Nancy, the single mom who lived downstairs and got up at 3:00 a.m. to deliver the Spokesman-Review, or her teenage son who made the whole apartment throb when he practiced his drums.

  I let myself in the bottom door that led up to our private staircase and unlocked the top door into our apartment. The air was stuffy and warm and still smelled of Grandma Beth’s rose-scented hand lotion. I filled a quart canning jar and watered the Christmas cactus in the kitchen. Then I let the message machine play while I headed into my bedroom.

  My room felt eerily quiet, lonely almost. I threw some clean clothes in my backpack and then paused to look at all my things — stuffed animals, creased comic books, the checkers board-game box with the split corners, the swim goggles I never used, the star maps and puzzle books, the familiar wallpaper with the pink and yellow balloons I’d outgrown.

  Grandma’s big book of famous quotations waited on my dresser, a ragged red ribbon marking our spot two-thirds of the way through. It was getting harder to remember how many we’d missed — was it thirty-six or thirty-nine? I thought about taking the time to read just one, but it didn’t seem fair to the others. I ran a finger over the book’s faded black cover. “Be back soon,” I whispered, “with Grandma Beth.”

  I grabbed my sunglasses for an extra bit of disguise, then hefted my backpack and hurried to the basement laundry, where we stored my bike and the bag of birdseed. I filled the feeder with black oil sunflower seeds and hung it back on the willow before climbing on my bike.

  I decided to take the side roads to the Huckleberry Home, where the sidewalks were wider and there was less traffic. Besides, the back way took me past Manito Park, with its beautiful gardens and conservatory, where Grandma Beth and I loved to study the exotic cacti and tropical plants. The park had the best view of the stars, too, especially on warm summer nights, in the open grassy plot between the lilac gardens and the ancient stone arch.

  Maybe it was because my mind was swimming with thoughts of Grandma Beth and stars and plants, but I nearly crashed my bike when I saw the poster. I fought for my balance, came to a wobbly stop, and stared. The sketch I’d helped Cindy create glared at me from a telephone pole outside the entrance to Manito Park. I took in the rough edge of the suspect’s jaw and the empty look in his eyes. Seeing the sketch in the safety of the interview room was bad enough, but seeing it here, alone, made goose bumps jump along my arms.

  I looked over my shoulder. A few people mingled around the food cart at the far end of the parking lot, but the park was mostly quiet at this time of morning. Trey’s words rattled around in my head — Not alone, Poppy — and all my fear from an hour before came flooding back. I wished I hadn’t ignored him. I wished he were with me now. I made sure my hair was still tucked into my hood and bumped up my sunglasses.

  That’s when I noticed the beat-up green van across the street.

  The driver’s window was halfway down, and a man peered out at me from beneath a black baseball cap. All my muscles jumped, and my heart almost splattered right out onto the pavement. It was him. It had to be. Why else would he be staring at me? I wanted to scream. I wanted to get off my bike and run.

  Run where? The food cart? Down the sidewalk?

  My legs made the decision for me, and I pushed off, pedaling as fast as I could go. The rush of wind ripped my hood back, but I was too afraid to stop and fix it. Riding bent over made my muscles scream, and after a few blocks I knew if I didn’t stop to catch my breath, I’d have a heart attack.

  I swerved into the lot of a Safeway grocery and raced to the front entrance, where an employee was trying to maneuver a chain of carts through the door. She gave me a funny look as I jumped off my bike and almost tripped in the process. I scouted the area, ready to bolt inside. But there was no green van — no vans at all — and nobody wearing a black baseball cap. I wiped sticky bangs from my face and commanded myself to calm down.

  As my heartbeat slowed, I started to second-guess myself. Was the guy in the van really the suspect from the gas station? Or was it just somebody enjoying a few minutes at the park? But if he was enjoying the park, why was he sitting in the van? Maybe he was waiting for somebody. Had I imagined the whole thing because of the poster?

  I wrapped my fingers around my cell phone. I was sure Marti would come get me if I called, but she was probably still in bed, and I wasn’t more than a mile from the Huckleberry Home. I took a few more shaky breaths and scanned the cars coming in and out of the grocery store — still no green van. I forced myself to pedal back to the street.

  I REACHED the nursing home with ten minutes to spare, which was just enough time for my breathing to go back to normal. Then I calmly walked down the hall and plastered on a smile as I stepped into Grandma Beth’s room. But I lost my smile just as fast. I couldn’t believe it — she was still in bed, sound asleep. The clock on her wall showed 8:25. How come she wasn’t up? I walked over and prodded her shoulder. “Grandma Beth? Wake up. It’s me.”

  She gave a little snort, opened bleary eyes, and shifted her head toward me. “Oh. Oh, Poppy. You caught me dozing.”

  “You’re supposed to be ready for your physical therapy. I came to watch so I can learn to help you do it.”

  She blinked several times, as if she was trying to make sense of what I’d said. “Well, aren’t you the ambitious one. But I’m afraid there’s not going to be any therapy this morning.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve been having dizzy spells. They started last evening. It’s all right if I’m still, but whenever I sit up or stand, I feel like I might topple over.”

  Unease stirred my stomach. “You have to tell the doctor.”

  “He hasn’t been around yet, honey. He has a lot of residents to see.”

  “Well, what time is he coming?”

  She closed her eyes. “That’s not the way things work in this place, Poppy. It’s not like having a set appointment.”

  “But you at least told the nurses, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. That’s why we decided to let the therapy go this morning. They said it’s probably best for me to just rest.”

  I tried to swallow back my disappointment. “What can I do to help?”

  “You can quit fretting so much. Now grab that chair by the closet and sit beside me for a minute.”

  I scooted the wooden chair as close to her bed as I could. She took my hand. “Who brought you today?”

  “Trey,” I said, without even thinking about it. “He’s out in the hall someplace.”

  “How are things going with his mother? Is she nice?”

  “Really nice.”

  “She’s not old and gray and past her prime like me, huh?”

  I knew she was trying to make me smile, but I just couldn’t. “I went home this morning, Grandma. I watered the cactus and got some clean clothes and listened to the messages. Nothing important, though, just some credit card ads.”

  “What is today, Poppy?”

  “The sixteenth, I think.”

  “All right. Next week sometime I want you to take eight hundred dollars and pay Mrs. Gilly the rent. You remember where our envelope is, right?”

  Next week? “Can’t you pay her? You’ll be out by then.”

  Grandma Beth met my eyes. “Priscilla Marie. You know I love you more than life itself. You know that, right?”

  I nodded, afraid of what she might say next.

  “All right. Now I realize this may be a bitter pill to swallow, but you need to accept the fact that I may not get out of this place.”

  I pulled my hand free. “What are you talking about? I’m gonna get you out of here.”

  Grandma sighed. “I know you like to fix things, Poppy. But this isn’t something you can fix. I’m seventy-six years old. I’ve had a stroke, and now I’m having dizzy spells. Even if I do get well enough to go home again, things aren’t going to be like they used
to be.”

  I felt like she’d slapped me. The pressure on my chest made it hard to breathe. “Why are you saying stuff like this, Grandma? You sound like you’re giving up.”

  “Of course I’m not giving up, honey. I just …” She paused, and uncertainty filled her eyes. “I just need you to think about what the reality might be.”

  “I don’t wanna think about it.”

  “I know. Believe me, I know. But things are going to be okay.”

  I dug my fingernails into my palms. I wanted to be strong for Grandma Beth. To show her I believed what she said — that things really would be okay. But an awful burning filled my nose anyway.

  “Oh, Poppy,” she said. “Please don’t cry. You and I have always figured things out before, and we’ll figure this out, too.” She reached to her bedside tray and tugged a tissue from the box. “Here’s an idea. How about if I let you know as soon as these dizzy spells pass, and then you can come watch my physical therapy if you like.”

  I wiped my nose with the tissue and forced myself to nod. My cell phone vibrated. I reluctantly sat up and pulled it from my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Oh, Poppy! It’s Marti. Where are you?” She sounded frantic.

  I sat back from the bed. So much for Marti sleeping until I got back. I tried to clear the thick, sticky feeling from my throat. “I’m fine. I’m just visiting Grandma Beth.”

  “But not by yourself! You know you weren’t supposed to take off alone. TJ said he told you that last night.”

  I closed my eyes. Great, Trey knew, too.

  “I didn’t have your cell number,” Marti continued, “and TJ didn’t, either. He had to get it from Miss Austin.”

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t think about that. But you were still asleep, and I needed to be here by eight-thirty for Grandma’s physical therapy.”

  Marti let out a big breath. “Well, I’m just thankful you’re all right. TJ’s on his way to pick you up.”

  I hesitated. Grandma Beth was already watching me with eagle eyes, and I didn’t know how to answer without digging myself in even deeper. “Yeah, okay,” I finally said.

  There was a pause. “Poppy,” Marti asked, the doubt clear in her voice, “your grandma doesn’t know you came by yourself, does she?”

  “Um … no.”

  Marti gave an exasperated sigh. “All right. Well, promise me you’ll wait there for TJ. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “I will.” I wanted to apologize, but I needed to get off the phone before I started laughing and made Grandma Beth even more suspicious than she already was. “See you pretty soon.”

  I stuck the phone back in my pocket, hoping Marti didn’t think I’d hung up on her. I faked a smile at Grandma Beth. “That was Trey’s mom. She didn’t know I was here because she was still sleeping this morning.”

  “You be sure and cooperate with her, Poppy. She’s doing you a big favor by letting you stay there.”

  “I know,” I said. I put my head near hers again. “But I feel like I should be here with you.”

  She patted my back. “I can’t imagine why you’d want to stay.”

  “I miss home,” I said. “I miss you.”

  “Not half as much as I miss you. How about after I get feeling a bit better you come and eat lunch with me in the dining room. Would you like to do that?”

  I nodded. It felt so right for us to be here together, talking and planning like we’d always done. But I knew it wouldn’t take Trey long to get here, and I wasn’t sure what he’d say when he showed up. I kissed Grandma Beth’s cheek and stood. “Can you call me? I never know the right time to call here.”

  She winked. “I’ll do that. Now go find something better to do than hang out around an old folks’ home. I love you.”

  I wiggled my fingers. “Love you, too. Don’t forget to call me.”

  There was no sign of Trey in the lobby. I stood near the entryway, feeling awkward, not sure if I should stay inside or go out. I could feel the lady at the front desk eyeing me. “Could I help you with something?” she finally asked.

  “Uh, no, thanks. I was just waiting for my ride.” I pushed through the front door and sat on the grass next to my bike. A white Huckleberry Home bus pulled into the circle driveway. I watched the driver lower an electric wheelchair ramp and unload an old man with spindly legs and a hunched back. He left the old man sitting there while he unloaded a woman with bluish-gray hair and bright white running shoes. It seemed strange to see brand-new athletic shoes on someone who couldn’t even walk. It wasn’t fair.

  An aide came from inside, and she and the driver wheeled the residents past. I busied myself flicking grass blades back and forth so I didn’t have to meet their eyes. Grandma Beth wasn’t like those people. She wasn’t worn out and helpless-looking. Up until just a couple of weeks ago, we’d walked three blocks to the Handy Mart for groceries every week. She’d carried lawn chairs up and down the steps to our apartment. She’d stood at the kitchen sink each evening and washed dishes. She’d done whatever needed doing. And if she couldn’t do something on her own, we figured out how to do it together. She’d said we’d figure this out, too. But I knew she was just trying to make me feel better. Because this wasn’t any old easy-to-fix problem; this was a really tough one.

  Trey’s black car coasted up behind the bus, and I scrambled to my feet as he climbed out. His relieved expression lasted about half a second before dissolving into a hard look that made me want to run back inside to Grandma Beth.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He strode over and took hold of my bike. “Get in the car, Poppy.”

  I hovered in place as he lifted my bike into the trunk and strapped it down with a bungee cord. Sweat tickled my underarms, and I started to laugh before I could stop myself.

  Trey stared me into silence and jerked his thumb at the car. “Get in.”

  I pinched my lips together and climbed into the front seat. Trey slid behind the wheel and shut his door.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to laugh.”

  He turned to face me. “Did you hear me last night?”

  His dark eyes drilled into me, and it suddenly felt like we were way too close together. “Yeah.”

  “Did you think I was joking?”

  “No.”

  “You just figured you knew better?”

  “No. I just needed to be here to watch my grandma’s physical therapy, and I didn’t want to wake your mom up. I wasn’t trying to upset anybody.”

  Trey rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Yeah? Well, whatever your reason, Poppy, you took a really dangerous chance.”

  Heat filled my nose at the same second the tears filled my eyes. I turned up my hands. “You don’t understand, Trey. Grandma Beth’s the only person I’ve got, and I’m the only one she’s got. Nobody else is worried about getting her home — only me. All you have to worry about is your stupid case.”

  His body stiffened. He gripped the steering wheel with an intensity that turned his knuckles white. I’m not sure where I’d gotten my burst of courage, but it shriveled right out of me, and I tried to melt into the door. “Sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean that last part … about your case.”

  Trey’s flush of anger seemed to disappear just as fast. He relaxed his hands and shifted the car into gear. “Put on your seat belt.”

  We pulled up beside the duplex a few minutes later. Harvey barked, and Marti came out to the car and gave me a hug. It was a hundred times better than being alone with Trey.

  “I didn’t hang up on you,” I told her.

  “I never thought you did.”

  Trey released the bungee cord, and I waited for him to give me my bike. But he didn’t. He kept a hold of it and wheeled it up next to Marti’s front steps. Then he disappeared inside, and reappeared a few seconds later with a bike chain. I tapped a knuckle against my lip as Trey threaded the chain through the spokes of the front wheel and locked it around one of the fence posts.
>
  I glanced at Marti and then back at Trey. “W-w-what are you doing? You can’t take my bike away.”

  Trey pocketed the key. “Guess again,” he said.

  Marti laid a hand on my shoulder. “TJ,” she said softly.

  Trey stepped back over to us. “I’m not playing around, Poppy. Until I know you’re not in danger, you’re either here with Mom, or you’re with me. Understand?”

  I blinked fast. I wanted to ask what gave him the right. Who made him boss of me. But my tongue felt like a jumbled mess in my mouth. “How come I’m the one who gets treated like a criminal?” I blurted. “I thought I was supposed to be the valuable witness.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You are a valuable witness. But running off half-cocked like you did was stupid.”

  Grandma Beth never called me stupid, she called me impulsive. But maybe they were one and the same. I backed away from Marti and stumbled indoors right before the tears came. As soon as I flopped across the bed, Lacey hopped up beside me and started licking my nose. I curled around her tiny body and cried into her fur. I cried because Grandma Beth was too sick for her physical therapy, and because I really had no idea how to get her out of the Huckleberry Home. But mostly I cried because I felt like I was free-falling with no bottom in sight.

  MARTI padded down the hall and tapped on the open door. “Can I come in?”

  I shrugged.

  She came over and sat on the edge of the bed, and Lacey repositioned herself with a little snarl of complaint. “Don’t be mad at TJ, honey. It’s his job to keep you safe.”

  My chin trembled. “But I’m trying to do my job, too. To take care of my grandma.”

  “Don’t you think she’s being taken care of at the Huckleberry Home?”

  “I dunno. I guess. But I should be the one doing it.”

  “Wow,” Marti said softly, “your grandma sure is lucky to have such a responsible, loyal granddaughter as you. But let me ask you something. How do you think she feels knowing there’s a wanted criminal out there running free who’s seen you and knows your name?”