Chapters (22)
With each encounter with whoever this was, I could feel myself being dragged further away from the shore, forced further into a situation I didn’t ask to be a part of; I was reeling and needed someone to tow me back to solid ground. Someone else needed to know. But who? I couldn’t tell Mom – not after how it had gone the first time. She’d freak out, and in the pit of my stomach I still wanted to believe her that this was some elaborate bullying scheme, that the death of my dad had amplified me into more than a blip on everyone’s radar, and like last time, they’d get bored of me, and this would all go away eventually.
Bea? Could this have been her? I didn’t know. I didn’t think she had the guts to do something like this – but the truth was, I knew nothing about her any more. A lot can change in two years.
I couldn’t tell June. Not now, when everything was going so well. I’d scare her off.
I texted Olivia.
| Me: | Are you home? |
| Her: | nah. with miles’ fam. his grandma just called me oriental. excuse me miss do i look like a rug |
| Me: | Do you know when you’ll be back |
| Her: | uhhh dunno. we still need to have dinner n stuuuuff |
| Her: | why? are u ok? |
| Me: | I’m mostly fine. Just lemme know when you’re back |
| Her: | affirmative!! |
While I waited, Mom and I spent the day watching various festive media in silence until, at one point, she tried to mask a sob with a cough, and when it became painfully apparent that it was, indeed, a sob, she disappeared upstairs. I felt a pull to ask her to please stay, that we could talk about it, but I couldn’t manage to get the words out and I listened to her plod up the stairs, followed by the soft click of her bedroom door.
Later in the day, my phone buzzed again when I wasn’t expecting it. Thanks to what must have been some Pavlovian conditioning, the sound nearly made me jump out of my skin. I checked the name: June.
| Her: | Merry X-mas Whitaker! From me and Heath. xo |
And then a selfie of the both of them smiling, June in a cream turtleneck and Heath in a Santa hat, a stack of cherry-red wrapped presents piled up behind them.
She had thought of me.
| Me: | You guys too!! |
I considered taking a picture to send back but thought better of it (‘Yeah, here I am, alone, in my empty house. Festive.’), and I willed her to say something else, anything else, but she was just giving me well-wishes and everything had run its natural course.
Moments later, Olivia texted me. She was almost back.