Goodbye from Nowhere

by Sara Zarr

  But who could hate Nadia?

  “Hurry up,” Emily called. “Why so slow?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  Finally he got close enough to really see her. She had on gray jeans and a maroon Stanford hoodie, hood up. Her mom—Aunt Brenda—was a professor in the theater department there, and Emily and Uncle Dale had a whole wardrobe of Stanford sweatshirts and T-shirts and hats.

  Her longish blondish hair stuck out from the hood in a stringy mess, like always. Kyle had gone his whole life hearing his grandma tell Emily to brush her hair, and Emily ignoring her. “It’s swimmer’s hair,” she always said. Kyle knew she was proud of it, the same way he was proud of the farmer’s tan he got from putting in time on the baseball field.

  He sat on the swing next to her. “I’m thinking about Nadia.”

  “Is she okay?” Emily asked. “It’s a lot of Bakers at once for a newbie.”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. She knew I wanted to come talk to you.”

  “That’s nice. She probably also wanted to be alone.”

  “Probably.” He wrapped his jacket cuffs around his hands and then grasped the swing’s chains. He didn’t like the metallic smell they left on his skin. “Do you think everyone likes her?” he asked. “They were nice, but I was thinking about how easy it is to be nice.”

  “We only talked to her for five minutes, so nice is probably all you’re going to get at first.” She dug her toes into the ground. “I hope she likes old musicals, though. We need to discuss our film fest.”

  “Wait, though.” He looked at her in the faint glow given off by the solar path lights lining the driveway. Full cheeks, no makeup. Still the girl who hugged the pumpkin. “What do you think of Nadia?”

  “Literally just met her, but I know what you think of her and everything you’ve told me. You care about her, and I can tell she cares about you. What Grandma or Uncle Mike or whoever thinks of her can’t change that, right? So why worry about it?”

  Why worry about it.

  “Maybe it’s one of those things that’s different for you,” Kyle said. “You know.”

  Emily gazed at him and kept quiet long enough for him to feel uncomfortable, like he’d said something wrong. Not that she was mad at him, because that wasn’t Emily. More as if she could see through his skull into his brain, and found his thoughts basic and naive.

  “Never mind, I guess?” he said with a laugh.

  “I mean, just because I’m not into the romance or crush thing doesn’t mean I can’t understand caring what people think. Wanting them to like or care about something you like or care about. That’s just human. But maybe it is different when you throw romance into the mix.”

  Two summers ago, Taylor and Martie had been talking about boys they liked at school and Emily had called them boring and walked off into the olive grove. Kyle, also bored by the conversation, followed Emily. She told him with a shrug, “I don’t care about that stuff. I never have.”

  He’d asked her straight up if she liked girls. “If you do, you know it makes no difference to me.” He wanted to say it wouldn’t make any difference to anyone, but Grandpa was kind of weird about it all and the most likely to think something was wrong with one of them if they’d been gay. Grandpa always said it was just his generation and his religion, but Grandma was in the same generation and the same religion, and she was totally accepting of everyone.

  “No,” Emily had said. “I don’t get crushes. Not on boys, not on girls. But it’s kind of personal and I don’t want it to be, like, a topic of family conversation, so.”

  Now she said, “I just think if you and Nadia are happy with each other, that’s what counts.”

  “Look at my parents, though,” Kyle said. “Most of the family never really loved my mom, and you can feel it, right? They’re nice and everything and she’s family, but there’s a little distance, I guess, or a difference when it comes to her. She can feel it and it’s hard for her to be here sometimes.”

  “I can see that. It’s not like you and Nadia are getting married, though.”

  He sighed. The word “married” didn’t really feel right, but he’d definitely been thinking about forever, or at least a long long time, on the drive up. “Back to the film fest,” he said.

  “I feel like Alex is ready for West Side Story.”

  “Are you sure? She’s so . . . in her feelings.” Kyle could barely watch it himself without having a breakdown. “What about Meet Me in St. Louis? That’s more holiday-ish.”

  She made a face. “Too corny.”

  “Literally every old movie we like is corny. Corny is like the definition of old musicals.”

  “I have a bad reaction to that one for some reason. I think’s it’s Judy Garland’s bangs. How about South Pacific?”

  “I hate that one,” Kyle said. “Grandpa would like it, though.”

  “He always falls asleep fifteen minutes in. We could pretend we’re going to watch that and then when he’s out, switch to something else.”

  “When are they going to make a Hamilton movie?”

  “Not soon enough.” Emily jumped off her swing. “Here comes your sister.”

  Taylor was walking fast up the drive, pumping her arms. Either she was doing some cardio or she was mad about something.

  “What’s wrong?” Kyle asked.

  “Nothing, but are you guys ever coming back to the house? Aunt Brenda is trying to get Nadia on her charades team. It’s a lot. She needs you.”

  “What time is it?” He’d left his phone in his room.

  Taylor held up hers so he could see.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “I’m saying.” Taylor looked at Emily. “You guys were talking about Nadia, I bet.”

  “No,” Kyle said. Taylor always had opinions about the girls Kyle liked, which was always annoying, but this time it was more than that. He felt protective of Nadia and needed Taylor to stay out of it. “We were talking about what movies we’re going to watch.”

  “Of course you were. The Kyle and Emily National Boredom Fest. I forgot.”

  “No one is forcing you to come,” Kyle said.

  “There’s nothing else to do!”

  “Then stop complaining.”

  “Maybe you could pick something from the twenty-first century once in a while?”

  “Guys,” Emily said, and pointed toward the house. “There’s a girl down there who needs to be saved from charades with my mom.”

  3

  KYLE WOKE up in his own bed the next morning. Well, Uncle Mike’s old bed. Which was not the plan. He was supposed to have stayed awake and then gone down to Nadia’s room, then crept back to his before everyone else woke up. But the family games went late—Nadia crushed charades on a team with Martie and Taylor and Aunt Brenda, and then was on the verge of destroying everyone at Bananagrams before Kyle sensed her pulling back to give Alex a chance to win. After Alex and the grandparents and half the aunts and uncles went to bed, the rest of them stayed up for a round of Cards Against Humanity.

  Nadia had been perfect the whole time. When she got up to use the bathroom during the break after Bananagrams, Martie looked at Kyle and said, “She’s the literal best,” and the rest of them agreed.

  It was all exhausting, though, on top of the long drive. He must have totally passed out. When he checked his phone, there were no messages from Nadia or anything, and a small current of anxiety buzzed through him because what if she was mad? What if she’d waited and waited and he’d fallen asleep like an idiot, and now she wasn’t talking to him?

  No. Nadia didn’t play games. She’d told him from the beginning that she’d say what she meant and mean what she said. Kind of like Emily, actually. A lot like Emily.

  He messaged Nadia. u up?

  hahaha NO

  It was early, and the house quiet. Maybe they still had some time to be together. He cleaned up a little and went downstairs. The kitchen light was on and there was coffee
in the pot, pans of what he knew were pecan rolls under towels. From the corner of his eye he saw movement on the patio off the kitchen. Probably Grandma. He was thinking about going out to say hi to her, and when he looked again he saw it was his mom. She had her back to the sliding glass door, her phone to her ear.

  Kyle paused. Did he want to talk to his mom? They’d barely seen each other in the last few months. Kyle spent basically all his free time with Nadia, and his parents had a lot going on with their contracting business.

  No, he could talk to his mom anytime and there were only so many chances to get into a warm bed with Nadia—

  Too late. His mom turned the second he decided to try to sneak past, and they saw each other. She waved for him to come outside, and she put her phone facedown on the patio table.

  “Hey, honey.” She gave him a hug and pressed her cold cheek to his. “I feel like we haven’t talked since you got here.”

  “We haven’t.” Not like they were that close to begin with, but they weren’t not close, and they’d definitely been talking less since Nadia. His mom looked different somehow, in a way he hadn’t noticed last night and he couldn’t quite define it now.

  “I was just checking some work messages before Grandma takes away my phone.” Grandma had a thing about phones when the family was all together—she’d be collecting them all after breakfast and wouldn’t give them back until after dinner. His mom wrapped her gray cardigan tighter around herself. “I forgot how cold it is here in the mornings.”

  “Yeah, it’s freezing.” And my girlfriend is all warm and cozy under the covers, waiting for me. “I’m gonna . . .”

  “Kyle, no, sit with me for a minute. I miss you. We can go inside if you want.”

  “Uh . . .” Mom versus girlfriend. Pay up with some Mom time now, and get to spend more time with Nadia later without feeling guilty. “It’s okay, we can stay out.” He flipped the hood up on his sweatshirt and shoved his hands in the pockets. His mom pulled patio furniture cushions out of the storage bench and arranged them so they could sit on the chairs, still damp from the fog and cold.

  “How was your drive yesterday? You made great time.”

  “Yeah, it was easy. We left early and everything.” School was out all week and technically they could have come a day earlier, like everyone else, but Nadia’s family had not been that into the idea of her being gone for Thanksgiving weekend, let alone extra days, and they’d kept her to themselves until he’d picked her up yesterday. “Did you get a haircut?” Kyle asked his mom.

  “And color.”

  “It looks cool.” It was sort of edgy, for his mom. Wavy and asymmetrical and darker than it had been, or maybe just less gray.

  She ran her fingers through it. “Thanks. I wanted a change. So. How are you and Nadia doing? With all of this?”

  “Fine?”

  “Families can be hard on a relationship.”

  He laughed. “We’ve barely been here twelve hours.”

  She lowered her voice. “You know how it is for me. I’ve always felt a little left out of all of this. And if Nadia needs someone to vent to, or you do, I’m here.”

  “I think it’ll be fine.”

  “But if you do.”

  There was something in her eyes, her voice, that seemed way more serious than any of this really was. He glanced toward the house. They needed a new topic before this turned into a sex talk. “Later I want to show Nadia the bunkhouse, which—”

  “Kyle, you need to remember that you’re the one who can be the bridge for her.” She leaned forward, grasped his forearm. “It’s important, especially in a big, close family like this. Your dad hasn’t been great at that. For me.”

  He should have gone straight to Nadia’s room. His dad was definitely no relationship genius, but whatever issues his mom had with the Bakers she partly brought on herself by always staying at this judgmental distance. Nadia would never be like that.

  Then his mom muttered, “Speak of the devil . . .” and Aunt Brenda came out through the sliding door.

  “Good morning and happy Thanksgiving, mind if I smoke?”

  Kyle’s mom sighed. “What if I said yes?”

  Brenda nearly fell into a chair with no cushion and lit up. She had major bedhead and makeup smeared around her eyes. “Kyle, why aren’t you in bed with your girlfriend?”

  “Really, Brenda.”

  Aunt Brenda laughed. “You know I just say shit like that to watch you turn red, Karen. Just kidding, Kyle. This is a sex-free household.”

  “Um, okay, so . . .” He stood up, but Brenda grabbed his sweatshirt sleeve and pulled him back down.

  “Oh no you’re not. I want to talk to you! You’re my favorite nephew.”

  That was his cue to say, “I’m your only nephew,” so he did.

  Sometimes he could not believe Aunt Brenda was Emily’s mom, except they had the exact same nose and also they were both so no-bullshit. Except Aunt Brenda was no-bullshit in a way that could make people uncomfortable or offended. Emily’s way of being no-bullshit didn’t involve embarrassing people. The real head-scratcher was that Aunt Brenda was his dad’s sister. Those two were night and day.

  “You know you’re the first grandkid to bring a significant other up here,” Brenda said. She pointed with her cigarette to his mom. “I remember meeting your mom for the first time, when she and your dad were in high school. I was just an annoying twelve-year-old.”

  “Very annoying,” his mom said, mostly succeeding in making it sound like a joke.

  “What was my mom like?” Kyle asked. He’d heard this story before, but not for a while.

  “Quiet. Watching. You could see her taking mental notes on us.”

  “Oh, come on,” his mom said. “You were twelve. You do not remember that.”

  “I do.” Brenda inhaled. “I even remember what you were wearing. You were such a basic eighties bitch, with a spiral perm and Reeboks.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay.” His mom stood up. “I’m going to need more coffee for this.”

  “But you loved my brother. We could all tell.” Brenda craned her neck to watch Kyle’s mom go in. “That’s all that matters!” she said at a volume that guaranteed anyone still asleep in the house was awake now. Brenda kicked Kyle’s shin with her slippered foot. “You love Nadia,” she said. “Or at least you like her a whole lot.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s your favorite thing about her? Besides her hot bod?” She cracked up again. “Sorry. That’s inappropriate. You know how Emily is, and I don’t get to talk boyfriends or girlfriends with her. And Alex still plays with her stuffed animals, so.”

  “It’s pretty cold out here, and I was supposed to meet up with Nadia.” Kyle tried standing again. This time she let him.

  “One thing. Tell me one thing you love about Nadia.” She leaned forward to stub her cigarette out in a flowerpot. “The rest of us can see what she looks like, so not that. And she’s great at games, this we know. Something about her we wouldn’t be able to see.”

  This was the playwright in her. That was always her excuse for being nosy, anyway.

  “Okay. She’s . . .” What was the word he wanted? Nice? Yeah, she was, but that wasn’t it. “I don’t know. Like, she sees the best in people. She doesn’t have enemies, you know? People she gossips about or whatever. I never really noticed how much people talk shit about other people until I spent more time with her and she didn’t.”

  Brenda gazed at him with eyes almost exactly like his dad’s. “That’s an amazing quality, Kyle. Emily has that. No idea where she got it from. I guess her father is a little like that. It’s a wonder we’re still married. Anyway, you’re lucky, trust me.” She looked past him, into the house. “Well, here comes everybody.”

  Kyle turned. Grandpa was in the kitchen, sliding the pans of pecan rolls into the oven. Alex was in there too, bouncing around. When Kyle checked his phone, there were messages from Nadia.

  I hear people. should I come out?

>   is there a system for who gets to shower first?

  also I need to talk to emily or taylor or martie? whoever might have pads or tampons. help.

  Uncle Mike’s truck rumbled in the distance, which meant Aunt Jenny and Martie were back. They lived nearby, which was why they didn’t sleep over at the farm for family stuff. He’d meet them in the driveway and send Martie to Nadia.

  it’s gonna be Martie. she’s here all the time so she’ll know. 2 minutes.

  The morning was getting away. Kyle wanted to take Nadia up to the bunkhouse, show her where all the cousins used to sleep in the summer. He had something to say to her, and that was where he wanted to do it.

  He watched Grandpa and Alex in the kitchen, through the glass door. Grandma came in and Grandpa kissed her on the cheek, got a coffee mug out of the cupboard for her. Alex was talking a mile a minute, from the looks of it. Grandma and Grandpa smiled, nodded, listened. Kyle tried to imagine his own parents getting that old. His own future kids, if he had any, as old as Alex.

  It seemed impossible that he would get to have that someday, and impossible that he wouldn’t.

  4

  THE BUNKHOUSE was falling apart. Cobwebs hung from the corners, and light came in where the tin roof had warped away from the wood of the main structure. The two long walls had bunk beds—four top and bottom bunks along each side, sleeping sixteen. Back in the day when the land was actively farmed, this was where seasonal workers slept. Behind the building there was an outhouse and a hose that served as a shower. Cold water only. There used to be a small fridge and a sink and a two-burner propane stove along the short wall, but the appliances were long gone.

  “It didn’t always look this bad,” Kyle said, holding on to Nadia’s hand.

  “‘Grandma’s House: Where Cousins Go to Become Best Friends,’” Nadia read aloud. “Aww.”