“Don’t say things like that,” I said, advising her from no personal experience whatsoever. I tried to channel Price. What would he say or do?
My heart ached like nothing I’d ever felt before in my life. Price had been back home at his beloved farm for only a few days, and my heart ached for him. The idea that he was spending time with his high school sweetheart worried me. He’d hated New York, and at one point, couldn’t wait to get back home.
I just didn’t understand why home meant so much to him. Home was just a place, right?
Once Bev and I reached their apartment, I was surprised to see how much Sheila had faded in the past week. She was sitting at their kitchen table, her face pale and thin, dark circles under her eyes.
Sheila handed me a slip of paper. “There—that’s her address, the last place she lived before she went wherever she’s been. She could be dead, for all I know.”
Her hand shook when she handed it over. My mouth dropped open at her insensitive words, so unlike her.
“Mom!” Bev shrieked.
“She’s only being honest. I don’t know much about addiction, but I’m pretty sure my mom hurt yours in more ways than one. I’m sure she didn’t mean to,” I said, defending a woman I’d never met. “It was the drugs. I guess that’s why she left me.”
Sheila sighed. “I’m sorry, so sorry, girls. Bev’s right. That wasn’t fair. The chemo is messing with my sense of humor. Anyway, that was where Paula was staying after she got divorced. I only went there once or twice. She lived a bit like a hermit then, kept to herself. Partly because her marriage failed ... and partly, I suspect, because she was using a lot.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Sad, but the truth hurts. I could be too late. I may have missed my chance. To be honest, I’m not even sure what I can do. Or what to say ...hey, mom, here I am!”
“Don’t say that,” Sheila said, scolding me. “This is on me; I’m being down. Maybe I didn’t try hard enough as her friend. But that man, he was her new beginning and demise all wrapped up in one. His money and his past became her worst enemies. She loved his money, but then it enabled her to get the good stuff and ignore all of us peons. And his past haunted him too.”
“What do you mean?” Bev asked, still in her dance outfit, her orange raincoat now discarded.
“Look at the paper,” Sheila told me.
A good night’s sleep was 100 percent why my hand shouldn’t be shaking right now. I’d not only had one but two great nights’ sleep since Price left, a weekend to myself, and plenty of time to think about how much I wanted this very moment.
Shoving an errant hair behind my ear, I took a deep breath. On this folded piece of yellow lined paper was my best clue. My only real clue to finding the one person I’d wanted to meet since I realized all my friends had a mom and I didn’t. This was my strongest lead. Maybe, finally, I was going to find my mom. I wanted to hold it close to my heart and rip it up at the same time. The tips of my fingers tingled.
I set it on the counter next to me. Opening the fold, sliding my palm along the creases, I stared at the address written in cursive. More like gaped, my mouth open wide, tears suddenly stinging my eyes.
I whipped my head up to stare at Sheila. “Is this some sort of joke?”
She shook her head, and Bev looked confused.
“What?” Bev snatched the paper from me. “So? It’s some ritzy place on Central Park South. Are you shocked? We told you she found someone who had more money than she was raised with—”
“This is Price’s address,” I shrieked. “Where he lives, the apartment his dad bought for him. This is where Ilivewith him.”
“It’s not a coincidence.” Sheila looked at the tile floor in their kitchen. “Or a joke. I’m sorry, Emerson.”
My world reeling, I stared at the kitchen floor with tear-filled eyes. Blurry swirls of black tiles mixed in with white made me dizzy.
“Why?” I half screamed, half whispered. Was this even possible?
“This is why I didn’t want to give it you,” Sheila said softly. “Why I dragged my feet.”
Bev stood in front of me and shook me. “What the freak is going on?”
I was standing there, mumbling gibberish, still looking at the floor, feeling crazed.
“When you said your boyfriend’s name was Price,” Sheila said, “I became curious because it’s an uncommon first name. Called a few friends. I knew the man Paula married had a son whose name was Price. Paula is gone, and I don’t know where, but her ex-husband moved his son into her apartment about a couple months ago. They’d been estranged, and it had been an effort to reconnect.”
I remember hearing Bev saying, “You need to sit down,” and then everything went black.
Bev’s voice came to me from what seemed like far away. “Em, open your eyes. You’re gonna be okay. Open them, come on.”
A cold cloth was pressed to my forehead.
