She doesn’t say anything, so I forge ahead, wondering if this was such a great idea after all. I imagine her face, smiling at me at the party, and go on. “So, you’re with Keith now?”
“Yeah.”
That’s it. A while ago, every detail would have spilled from her, down to his favorite color. “That’s so great. Really great. I’m happy for you. Keith Alex! You’ve loved him since seventh grade.”
“I know.” Her voice livens up a bit because we have so many shared memories of her crush on Keith Alex. She sounds a little more like my friend Penny and less like a wary stranger.
“How’d it happen?” I ask.
“Just a second.” She covers the phone with her hand. She says my name.
“He’s here right now,” she says when she comes back to the phone.
“Oh. Well. Ha ha. I guess you can’t really talk about him then, can you?” I try to laugh but it’s fake and sad. I blink and blink. I’m really not a part of her life. Not anymore. “Listen, Penny?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry,” I say, remembering the night I turned on her.
It was after Mom’s attack. I’d been feeling restless and reckless. Mom was in bad shape, and I didn’t know what to do. Dad told me not to talk about it with people, as if not talking about it would make it go away. So I didn’t. Not even to Penny.
But I started wearing tighter clothes and boys noticed, and the attention fed a growing hole inside of me. I liked it. When Nance invited us to a party with the popular kids, I pushed Penny to go. The invite was for me really, but back then, me meant Penny too.
I drank the liquor Nance offered. I drank and drank and for a while, it filled up my blank spaces with happy silliness. The liquor loosened me up, and I giggled and stumbled around, talking to everyone and carrying on like a completely different person. Josh Reid latched on to me.
Penny tried to get me out of there. Away from him. I’d laughed at her. Made fun of her. Called her a nerd. A loser. I used intimate things I knew about her to humiliate her. I humiliated her for other people’s entertainment. It went too far. Way too far. She left in tears.
I sigh, heat tingling my cheeks. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’ve never told you that. But I really am sorry. I was such a jerk. And I never said sorry.”
She breathes in and out, in and out, but doesn’t say anything.
“It’s not an excuse, I know. But I was drinking and I didn’t mean any of it. Dumb things come out of my mouth when I drink.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “They do.” And then there’s silence again.
I’m crying now, thinking about that night. I had to call Allie to come and pick me up. She drove me home and didn’t say a word about me pretending to be sober, even though I hiccupped all the way home. She didn’t say a word when I threw up all over the bathroom or in the morning when my face was the shade of white lily. Instead, she left after breakfast and went to her boyfriend’s house. Dad was out of town. Mom was in bed. I had my first hangover alone on the couch, curled up underneath a blanket. A messy aching body.
I wanted to call Penny. Apologize. But I knew I didn’t deserve forgiveness. So I let it go. I let her go. It added to the already big hole inside me. I turned to Nance. The parties and full force of Nance kept me distracted for a long time.
I sigh, about to tell Penny good-bye, about to hang up, embarrassed and emotionally naked and knowing it doesn’t matter. I went too far. She’s never going to forgive me.
“Thank you,” she says. I take a deep breath and swallow my tears. “Thanks for the apology, but I know things were hard for you.” Penny pauses. “Are things okay now? I mean, how’s your mom?”
“She’s doing better, some days. It’s hard to tell. She still sleeps a lot. I think it’s the medication.”
“That must be hard.”
I close my eyes. “It is,” I whisper. My eyelashes are wet. It’s been even harder without Penny to talk to about it.
“Jess?” she asks. “You still there?”
“I’m here.” I sigh deeply. “Listen, I was wondering if we could, you know, get together sometime. Like for coffee or something. To talk? I’m dying to hear about how you and Keith got together. And what it’s like, being his girlfriend.”
She actually giggles. It’s tiny and it’s soft. But it’s there.
“I met a guy too,” I tell her, wanting to share. Wanting her to care the way I do.
“I heard,” she says.
“You did?”
“Nance. Telephone. Telegraph. Tele-Nance,” she says.
We both laugh. A real laugh.
“I don’t think Nance likes him,” Penny tells me.
Less now, I think. She likes him less now that she knows the truth about him.
“She doesn’t,” I tell Penny. “But he’s nice. I think you would like him. He’s real. He’s not fake. Like I’ve been acting the last while.”
Silence.
“I miss you,” I whisper. “A lot. I miss you a lot.”
“I miss you too,” she whispers back. But then she clears her throat. “But you really hurt me, Jess.” Her voice is louder now. Clear. I imagine Keith giving her a thumbs-up. Encouraging her to let me have it. I deserve it after all.
“You dumped me,” she says. “For Nance. You left me all alone.”
“But you dumped me,” I say. I never called to apologize. It’s just that she never called me either.
“I thought you made your choice. Nance. Drinking. And boys.”
I nod. “I don’t want that anymore. I think I’m changing,” I tell her. “Or maybe I’m just learning to be myself again.”
“I hope so,” she says.
“Me too.” I smile, thinking of Wilf. She would love Wilf. “I’m volunteering,” I tell her. “At New Beginnings. I’m friends with a seventy-five-year-old man. And people there.”
“That’s good,” she says. “It sounds good for you.”
I nod again. My stomach flops around and I have a sudden understanding of boys trying to ask a girl on a date. Rejection is scary. “So,” I try again. “Do you want to get together? You could come here? Or we could meet at a coffee shop?” I ask.
She clears her throat but doesn’t answer.
“Penny?”
“I don’t know.” She sighs. “I want to trust you, Jess. I do. But…”
“You can’t,” I answer flatly. My eyes go to the book on my dresser. The monkey.
“I’m afraid of getting hurt again. This is kind of unexpected. I need some time to process things.”
“Okay, Pen,” I say. It’s not what I wanted to hear. But it’s something. There’s hope. I should have known Penny wouldn’t make a snap decision. She doesn’t make snap decisions.
“Hey, Jess?” she asks.
“Yeah?”
“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”
“Boyfriend?” My cheeks heat up and I giggle. “I don’t know if I can call Flynn my boyfriend yet.”
“It sounds like you want him to be though.”
I smile “I do. Yeah, I guess I do.” I pause for a second. “He lives in Clover Lawn,” I tell her.
“So?” Penny asks.
“Exactly,” I say, and my heart fills up.
And that’s why I love her. Present tense.
“I think his mom hates me,” I confide.
“She probably doesn’t even know you,” she says. “Listen, I have to go. Keith is waiting. I’ll call you back sometime. Okay?”
“Okay.” A tear drips down my cheek.
“Good luck,” she says.
“Yeah, thanks. Bye.” I hang up. My heart is heavy and sad, but there’s a thin lining of something new.
chapter eighteen
The next morning, Mom is out of bed when I get up. Dressed. She’s
sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, drinking a cup of tea, her laptop on the counter. Her hair is in a ponytail. She actually has on eye makeup.
“You okay, Jess?” she asks.
“Is Dad home?” I stayed in my room last night and skipped supper because I didn’t want to look at his face. No one bothered to call me down.
“No. He’s gone to Houston.”
“Then I’m fine.”
I grab a mug and turn on the coffee. She gets up and walks over, putting her hand on my shoulder. I lean against her hand, watching the Keurig gurgle out hot caffeine. She moves away before I want her to. I want more.
“He doesn’t want me going back to New Beginnings,” I tell her as she climbs back on the stool. I dump a large amount of sugar in my cup and take a sip.
“He told me,” she says.
I blow on my coffee and turn to her, surprised.
“He said you met a boy,” she says.
A laugh spurts from me. “He told you that?”
“I asked. I’m trying not to judge until I hear your side of the story.”
“Wow.” I frown at her and put the coffee down and rub my temples, trying to work out a headache that’s forming. “Really?”
She sighs. “I’m trying here, Jess.”
I nod. “Flynn is a good person, Mom. I’m not going to stop seeing him because of Dad.” I’m afraid of sending her back to her room, but she keeps her eyes on me. Steady. “I don’t want to let down the people at the shelter. They expect me back. It’s not fair.” I lift my chin. “And I’ll find a way to see Flynn if I’m working there or not.”
We’re interrupted by Allie as she noisily walks in the side door of the house, her overstuffed backpack banging against the wall. Mom glances over as if she’s surprised, as if she forgot she had two daughters.
Allie slips off her shoes, throws her backpack down on the couch, and walks in looking at us, her eyebrows raised.
“Hey,” she says. “I have a ton of laundry to do, but first, I need coffee.”
She continues into the kitchen, looks closer at Mom, and does a double take. “You look good, Mom. How you feeling?”
“Fine,” she answers automatically.
Allie touches Mom’s arm as she walks to the Keurig machine, where I’m still leaning against the counter, and she sets it up for a new cup of coffee.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
“Dad,” I say. “Tyranny.” I take a big sip of coffee and burn the tip of my tongue.
“What else is new?” she says with a scoff.
“Not for you. Since you’re never here,” I mumble as I put my coffee mug down on the counter.
“Were you at Dana’s last night?” Mom asks.
Allie glances at me and then back to Mom. I don’t shout out Doug’s name to bust her.
“Yeah,” she says. “I was. I worked first.”
“I met a boy,” I blurt out.
“And this is bad?” Allie asks, glancing from me to Mom. “Is he a criminal? Married?” She takes her coffee and sips at it. She drinks hers black.
“Worse,” I tell her. “He’s poor.”
“He goes to the shelter,” Mom says.
“Where you work?” Allie asks me.
“Not as a volunteer,” Mom adds quietly.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, crossing my arms. “It doesn’t make him a bad person. And he does help out, by the way. Because he wants to.”
“He uses the shelter?” Allie tilts her head, thinking. She keeps sneaking peeks at Mom, as if she can’t figure out what’s different but knows something is. She’s out of bed, for starters, I want to yell. Enough pretending. It’s not a day for sweeping things under the carpet. “And Dad freaked out,” Allie guesses.
“He can’t order me around and treat me like I’m five years old. He tried to ban me from going back to the shelter. Flynn isn’t a bad person. And it’s not his fault. His mom used to have a nice home. They lost everything because of a deadbeat stepdad who gambled away all their money and then took off.”
“That sucks,” Allie says.
“You think?”
She has the courtesy to look embarrassed.
“Flynn has a little brother, and he looks after him so his mom can work. He brings him to the shelter sometimes for lunch. But Flynn helps out too. He fixes things. He’s a good person. He has goals. And he likes plants.”
“He likes plants?” Allie smiles and goes over to sit on a stool beside Mom.
“There’s a greenhouse at the shelter,” I tell them.
“You like plants,” my mom points out. “It’s a sign.”
The two of them actually start to laugh. It warms my heart even as I frown. “It’s not funny,” I tell them as they laugh. It almost feels like old times, but I blink quickly. I have to take action. I can’t not see Flynn. It’s not an option. “So I don’t have to quit?” I say to my mom. “I can still work at New Beginnings?”
Allie freezes with her coffee mug at her lips. I don’t move either. Neither one of us has pushed Mom in a long time. Asked her to make a decision. To defy Dad.
“You can keep working there,” she says and calmly sips her tea. “I’ll talk to your father.”
I suck in a breath and slowly let it out. “Really? You’re sure?”
“Really. Dad’s gone for a couple of days. I’ll talk to him when he gets home. No need to bother him while he’s away. You keep doing what you’re doing.”
I open my eyes like a deer in headlights but don’t say a word.
She turns to Allie. “How’s Doug?” she asks.
Allie’s eyes open as wide and she quickly takes another sip of coffee, glancing at me to see if I’ve squealed on her, but I subtly shake my head.
“Good,” she says and puts her cup on the counter.
“I’m glad his family has been there for you.” Mom reaches for her hand.
Allie and I exchange another look. Maybe Mom has been seeing more than we gave her credit for? Maybe she’s getting ready to come back and deal with it?
I leave them and head to New Beginnings early, hoping Flynn will be there helping out and we’ll have a chance to talk. About my stupid dad. And his stupid mom.
He doesn’t show up though. Not early. Not at all.
chapter nineteen
I repeat my steps the next day. I get to New Beginnings early and wait for Flynn and Kyle, but there’s no sign of them. Not the next day. Or the next.
Mom is awake when I’m home, but I’m the one hiding in my room. I’m a wreck. I’ve lost Nance too, but that doesn’t even compare to not being able to reach Flynn. He doesn’t have a cell phone, and I don’t know if he even has a landline. I keep expecting him to show up at New Beginnings with a logical explanation for why he hasn’t been there, but I’m afraid. That my dad scared him away. That Flynn let him. I want to yell at him for not coming back. I’m angry. I have things to say. I’m scared. But most of all, I miss him.
“What’d you do to make everyone around here so mad?” Wilf asks on day three when we’re carrying dirty dishes into the kitchen. Stella came in for a moment earlier and watched me with her lips pressed together, her eyes disapproving. After a moment she left without saying anything.
“Can I come to the greenhouse with you?” I ask instead of telling him. He’s been away for a few days too. I haven’t even talked to him about the herbs I want to grow.
“Sure, Chickadee,” he says. We put the dishes away and escape the kitchen. I walk beside him, keeping with his slower pace. “Leg is bothering me. Means it’s going to rain. I’m more predictable than that nuisance weatherman on channel two,” he says as we head through the building. I glance over with a frown, forgetting to smile at his joke attempt. “Kind of like racing a turtle to keep up with me?” he notes.
“I like turt
les,” I tell him.
“See?” he says. “That. Something is wrong, if you’re letting that go without insulting me.”
“I don’t insult you all the time.”
“Only when I’m around.” He chuckles.
I try to smile, but my lips fail to make the trip. There’s a bad feeling in my stomach. We step outside, down the stairs that lead us to the greenhouse.
“This bad mood of yours have to do with the boy?” he asks.
I frown.
“What? You think I don’t notice the way you two are always mooning over each other.”
I don’t even call Wilf on using the word mooning.
“Stella doesn’t approve,” I blurt out. “Neither does my dad. Or his mom. And now he’s disappeared. I can’t even talk to him about it.”
“That doesn’t sound like Flynn.” Wilf rubs his chin and frowns.
He’s right. And that’s the thing. He’s right. It doesn’t sound like Flynn.
“Want to take my advice?” Wilf asks. “It’s not like I usually use it anyway.” He laughs to himself.
I really do smile then. For a second. But it quickly fades. “What?”
He stops and pulls the key to the greenhouse from his pocket and opens the door for me. I slip inside.
“Fight for him,” he says, following me. “He feels the same way about you. I see it. And I understand. I had to fight for Rhea.”
I stare at him, fascinated. He walks to the cupboards where he keeps his gardening tools and keeps talking. “My mother was old-fashioned. And considering how old I am, that’s pretty darn old-fashioned. Suffice it to say she didn’t believe in mixed marriages. Especially with a poor brown girl whose parents could barely understand English. They worked so hard for so little.” He shakes his head. “She had her heart set on fixing me up with one of her friend’s daughters. Proper white girls with lots of pedigree and money.” He opens the cupboard with his unsteady hands and pulls out shearing scissors.
I watch him, surprised. But also, not surprised.
“Rhea’s parents brought her over from India when she was ten. They wanted her to marry a nice Indian boy and give them lots of babies.” He puts the scissors down, and I walk over and sit on a stool, watching him. He smiles at me. “I had to work on her parents. Finally I think they gave up because they knew I wouldn’t go away. They accepted me. But my mother, she never really gave in. Not even when we married. She wasn’t always good to my Rhea. But I let her know from the start. It was both of us or none at all.”
The Truth about Us Page 17