I waited for him on the front lawn and saw him walking down the driveway. He’d come out the back door, probably to avoid all the people in the living room.
“Jenny’s got to help Emerson,” I said when he was close enough to hear.
“Cool,” he said, but I could tell by the way he said it that he meant “okay,” not “that’s great.” We headed toward the park, walking in and out of the pools of light from the streetlamps. “Jenny should probably be with us, though,” he said after a minute. “Why?”
“Just…not a good idea for you and me to be alone together.”
I laughed. “You think we need a chaperone?”
“Actually, yeah. Especially with how hot you look tonight.”
Oh, God. “Thanks,” I said.
“Seriously. I was looking at you tonight thinking what an asshole I was for breaking up with you.”
Did he want to get back together? I nearly asked him, but I was afraid of pushing my luck. “Yeah,” I said. “You were.”
“It was the right move, though, Grace,” he said. “I mean, you look amazing tonight, but I’d only hurt you if we got back together. I’m three hours away and I want to be able to get to know people without feeling guilty about it.”
“Other girls, you mean.” We’d had this conversation before.
“Girls. Guys. New people.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I just need to be free for now.”
“I know all this,” I said. “Let’s not talk about it.” Talking about it now only reminded me of how much it hurt when we discussed it the first time. “I get it. We don’t need to go all over it again.”
“Good,” he said. Neither of us said anything for a couple of minutes. We’d gotten to the park entrance and headed toward the playground as if we were on autopilot. I was honestly having trouble thinking of things to say to him that had nothing to do with us getting back together. Before everything fell apart, I could talk to him pretty easily and now I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him that wouldn’t end up with me crying.
He sat down on one of the swings, and I took off my shoes and sat on the swing closest to him. “I didn’t care if we had to be long distance,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Grace,” he said, “don’t start.”
“You could even go out with other girls, as long as you didn’t…you know. I know you need to make friends and stuff.”
“Look,” he said, “who knows what’ll happen in the future? But for now, we really need to experience the rest of the world. Both of us. Until we get to know lots of other people, how can we ever know who’s the right one for us?”
I was speed-reading between the lines. I heard him say, You’re the one I want, but I need to be able to say I’ve gone out with other girls so when I come back to you, I know for sure.
Neither of us was swinging on the swings. We were just holding the chains, pushing ourselves around a little with our feet in the sandy pit beneath us. Suddenly, I couldn’t stand the physical distance between us any longer. I stood and walked over to his swing. I knew how to do this. I knew how to change everything in less than a minute. I held on to the chains right above his hands and leaned forward to kiss him. He didn’t resist at all. I knew he wouldn’t, and when I finally lifted my lips from his, it was only to reach down and touch his hard penis through his pants. He caught my hand, more to hold it there than to pull it away. But I stepped back, hiked up my dress and slipped my thumbs under the top of my panties.
“Oh, Gracie, don’t,” he said, but he didn’t mean it, and when I climbed onto the seat—onto him—he was every bit as lost as I was.
38
Grace
“I don’t want to go to church today,” I told my mother as we ate breakfast the morning after the party. At least, she was eating breakfast. Oatmeal and bananas. I was too wired to eat the toast on my plate.
“Oh, come with me, honey,” she said. “I have a solo today.” She was already in her church clothes—tan pants, white blouse, blue jacket with white-and-blue-checked scarf around her neck. I was still in my pajama bottoms and T-shirt.
“I’m really tired,” I said. “I just want to stay home, okay?” She looked disappointed—maybe even hurt—but I never really liked going to church. I hated afterward when you were supposed to stand around and talk to people. Of course, that was Mom’s favorite part. The only thing that made it okay was that Jenny was usually there. I was sure she’d be staying home today because she was sick, plus I needed to wait for Cleve to call. I wanted to get together with him before he left. Even though it was a three-day weekend, his friend needed to go back tonight and Cleve had no other ride, so he was stuck.
I’d called Jenny late last night to tell her how great things went with him.
“Are you back together?” she’d asked. Her voice was so hoarse I could hardly hear her.
“We didn’t specifically get into that,” I’d said. Last night had been about action, not conversation. I smiled now as I nibbled the corner of my toast, remembering my mother’s words from a couple of weeks earlier: you need to take action. Well, Mom, I did and you were right.
Omigod, it had been so good! Cleve kept saying, “Holy shit!” after it was over. He was holding me and kissing my hair and it was just the most amazing night.
“How did it go with Cleve last night?” my mother asked, and I jerked my head up. It was like she was able to hear my thoughts. What did she know?
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Just…seeing him.” She sipped her coffee. “I worried it’d be hard for you.”
“It was no big deal,” I said. “We’re good.”
She was looking at me like she wasn’t sure she believed me, and I stood to carry my plate to the counter and get away from her eyes.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “What did you think of the party?”
“It was nice.” I threw my toast in the trash beneath the sink.
“I still feel bad about the travel mug, Gracie,” she said.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I wasn’t ready to let her off the hook on that one.
She stood and looked at her watch. I couldn’t wait for her to leave. I was worried Cleve would call while she was still home. My phone was on the counter and I kept looking at the display, waiting for it to light up.
“I have a meeting with the choir committee late this afternoon,” she said. “We’re meeting at Port City Java to plan the music for the rest of the year. Do you want to come? You could do your homework there and then we could grab something to eat.”
I didn’t understand how she could even look at Port City Java when that was the last place my dad had ever been. “No, thanks,” I said. “I’m probably just going to hang out with Jenny.” I rinsed my hands and reached for a paper towel. I couldn’t tell her I’d be hanging out with Cleve. That would start a whole new bunch of questions.
“Could you clean your bathroom, please?” she said as she headed for the door. “It’s looking pretty bad.”
“All right,” I said. I just wanted her to go.
At ten-thirty, I carried my phone to the living room and laid down on the sofa. He should be up by now. I texted, U up yet?
A few seconds later, he replied. On my way to CH.
What? I sat up, staring at the words. U said tonite! I typed, then waited, my fingers gripping the phone.
Friend needed go back early. Sorry.
I stared at the display. Screw texting! I dialed his number.
“Hey,” he said when he picked up.
“I can’t believe you just left without letting me know!” I said.
“Listen, Grace,” he said. “I’m sorry about last night.”
“What do you mean, ‘sorry’?”
“I really shouldn’t have… I took advantage of you.”
“No, you didn’t! I wanted to do it.”
“I know you did, and I took advantage of that fact.”
“Cle
ve! I—”
“You wanted to do it because you want us to be together again, but that’s not what I want.”
“Yes, you do,” I said.
“Nothing’s changed, okay, Grace? Everything I said about us needing to see other people…about being free… It’s still all true.”
“Cleve!”
“Look, you know I care about you a lot, right?”
“Yes.”
“I always will. No matter what happens, okay? But I screwed up by emailing and texting you after we broke up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought it would be okay,” he said. “I didn’t want to, like, cut you off cold turkey, but I think all the contact made you feel like we’re not really broken up. We need to chill on being in touch with each other, at least for a few months.”
A few months? The thought of not being able to talk to him felt like one more death. I started to cry. I tried to hide it at first, but I couldn’t speak and he knew. My life was totally empty. No Daddy. Jenny spending more and more time with Devon. Now no Cleve. He’d been my lifeline.
“Grace, don’t,” he said. “Come on. I’m sorry, but this is the right thing to do. I should have done it sooner. My buddy says it’s like taking off a Band-Aid. I should have done it fast instead of bit by bit. It’ll hurt like hell for a few minutes, but better than… I think I’ve been leading you on, staying in touch.”
“And screwing me last night!”
“Don’t talk about it like that.”
“That’s all it was to you, though. That’s what you’re saying.”
I heard him let out a big, frustrated-sounding sigh. “This is pointless,” he said. “I don’t know how to end things with you. We have to just stop. Starting right now, as soon as we hang up, no more texting or anything. It’s the best way for you to start living your life without me.”
“Because you want to live your life without me,” I said.
“Yes, I do,” he said. “Right now, I need to.”
I hung up, then speed-dialed him right back, but he didn’t pick up.
I texted him. Sorry I hung up. I waited, staring at the black display on my phone. Nothing. He wasn’t going to answer me.
I remembered how amazing it had been with him the night before. When he was with me, he wanted me. The second he was away from me, though, he was influenced by his stupid friends.
I had to see him.
I would take action.
39
Tara
Grace was in the kitchen when I got home from church. She sat at the table with a mug of coffee, her phone in front of her.
“How was your solo?” she asked.
I didn’t even think she’d heard me when I mentioned the solo earlier. “It went well,” I said. People had told me I sounded wonderful, and I’d forgotten how it felt to fill that beautiful space with my voice. But I’d felt empty inside and it wasn’t until I was driving home that I realized why: Sam wasn’t there. He always said my singing moved him. Not in so many words, but I knew how he was feeling by the way he’d hold my hand when I came back to the pew.
“When are you going out?” I asked. She was wearing cropped pants and a long-sleeved striped T-shirt and her hair was damp.
“In a little while,” she said. “I cleaned my bathroom.”
“Excellent!” I leaned over to give her a hug and her cool, damp hair stuck a little to my cheek. It was rare for me to only have to ask her once.
She folded her hands on the table, pressing them together so hard that her knuckles were white.
“Mom, listen.” She looked up at me. “I know you’re going to say no right away, so just listen to everything I say before you react, okay?”
It seemed like the longest sentence she’d said to me in months.
“Okay.” I leaned back against the counter. This was good. I would not say no right away. I’d let her talk.
“I’m going to Chapel Hill this afternoon. For the night. I—”
“Chapel Hill? Today? Why?”
She gave me her frustrated look. “There’s this girl,” she said. “She’s a graduate student and Jenny knows her and she—this girl—wants to see some friends in Chapel Hill, but she doesn’t have a car, so she’ll go with me and be my supervising driver and I’ll come back tomorrow.”
I was, for once in my life, speechless. Grace was terrified to get behind the wheel of a car and I was just as terrified to have her there. “Well, first of all,” I said, “you can’t go.”
“Mom, I told you not to just react!” She pressed her hands together even harder and her eyes were wide, imploring me. “Listen to the whole explanation,” she pleaded.
“Does this have to do with Cleve?” I asked, although that made no sense. Cleve was home for the weekend so why would she want to go to Chapel Hill?
“Yes,” she admitted. “He had to go back today and I absolutely have to see him. Plus, I want to see UNC, too, because I’ll probably be applying there.”
I knew that was bullshit. She might be applying there, but this sudden need to see UNC was such a weak excuse that even she knew it, and she turned her head away, unable to look me in the eye.
“You know that doesn’t make sense, Grace,” I said. “If you want to see Cleve, at least be honest with me and don’t make up some nonsense about wanting to see UNC all of a sudden.”
She flattened her hands on the table. “Cleve didn’t realize he had to go back early today and we didn’t get to finish talking last night and he asked if I could come.”
“Are you two back together?”
I could see her trying to decide how much to reveal to me. “He’s mixed up about us,” she said. “He thinks we should stay broken up, but we need to talk about it more and didn’t get the chance.” She frowned up at me. “I’m upset, Mom! I need to talk to him in person.”
“And where exactly would you stay?” I asked.
“With Jenny’s friend.”
“What’s her name?”
“Elena.”
“How does Jenny have a friend who’s a grad student?”
“She was… I don’t know. A neighbor or something. Do you want to talk to her? I can—”
“No, because you’re not going.”
“What if I let Elena drive instead of me?”
“No, Grace. I’m sorry you and Cleve are still struggling, but you’ll have to talk it out on the phone. If you want to go to UNC sometime in the future, we’ll plan it ahead of time. You’ll have to show me you’re comfortable driving first and—”
“Elena can drive.”
“This is too half-baked a plan, all right? You can’t go. I’m sorry, but this is a nonnegotiable.”
She sprang out of her chair. “You don’t understand!” she said, and in an instant, tears had filled her eyes.
“Then help me understand.” I caught her shoulders and held on tight as she tried to squirm out of my grasp. “Why can’t you and Cleve resolve this on the phone?”
She pried my hands from her shoulders. “I just wanted to go, that’s all!” She turned and headed for the stairs.
“Grace!” I called after her. “Don’t run off like that. Talk to me!”
But her footsteps skittered up the stairs and I lowered myself to a chair. I’d blown it again, yet I didn’t know what I could have said or done differently. This is normal, I told myself. Mothers and daughters fight.
I touched my cheek where I’d pressed it against her hair. I wanted to feel that sweet damp hair against my skin again. It had reminded me of when she was little and I’d hold her and rock her and she was so happy in my arms.
A long, long time ago.
40
Emerson
My plan was not going well so far. I hadn’t counted on Jenny feeling too sick to go out that afternoon, so I was anxious as I stood by the living room window watching for Ian’s car. The sky was gray and thick with clouds. We were going to get a downpour soon. In my hands I clutched Noelle’s re
cord book and the thin file folder with her letter to Anna and copies of the information I’d printed from the Missing Children’s website.
I left the window for no more than a second to take the tray of leftover spanokopita out of the oven, and when I returned I saw his car out front but no sign of him, and I knew he was already heading up my driveway toward the side door.
People always just walked in my kitchen door without knocking, so I raced through the house to head him off, opening the door just as he was about to walk in. “Jenny’s home,” I whispered. “I was hoping she’d be out, but she’s sick, so just…play along with whatever I say.”
Ian frowned. “What’s going on?” he asked.
I put a finger to my lips. “I’ll tell you—”
“Hey,” Jenny said from the doorway to the kitchen. She was still wearing her pajama shorts and a tank top and her hair stuck out on one side.
“Hi, Jenny,” Ian said. “You’re not feeling well?”
“Too much wild party for me last night,” Jenny rasped, rubbing her throat. She gave me a confused what’s-Ian-doing-here? sort of look.
“Ian and I have some issues to talk about related to Noelle’s estate,” I said. I thought she was looking at the book and file in my arms with suspicion, but that might have been my paranoia. “What can I get you, Jen?” I asked her. “Some tea with lemon and honey?”
“I’m just going to crash again,” she said.
“Good idea. Want some juice to take up with you?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” She headed for the refrigerator, but I beat her to it. I set the record book and file on the kitchen table and quickly poured a glass of orange juice. Ian stood quietly next to the island, and I knew he didn’t know what was safe to do or say. I handed the glass to Jenny.
“Thanks,” she said. “See you all later.”
“She sounds miserable,” Ian said as we watched her head for the stairs.
“I know.” I moved the spanokopita from the baking pan to a plate. “We can nibble party leftovers,” I said, setting the plate on the kitchen table.