When she says his name, I try not to flinch.I fail.
“He talked about a biker who follows his baby sister around like a puppy.A man who looked ready to commit murder when he found out you’d been hurt.A man who makes you throw glitter and who you moon over like he’s a block of cheese.”A reluctant smile forms on my mouth at her description, but she’s not done.“A guy who seems to expect you to stay in Pine Falls for longer than just the month or so it should take you to sell this place.”
This time, I’m able to stifle my flinch, but just barely.
“Well, you don’t need to worry about that.I just told him I can’t stay.”
“Why not?”
I almost trip, her words a slippery banana peel in my path.
“What do you mean,why not?Youwantme to move to Pine Falls?”
“I’d never claim to want that.But children move away from their families all the time.Across the country.Across the world.It’s not like you’d be the first.”
The idea sounds so reasonable when she says it.
Still, I shake my head.
“Maybe that works for some people.But you know how I get.How different I am from you all.”
She scrunches her nose.“You all?What does that mean?”
“Come on, Mom.I’m the introverted black sheep in the family.You all seek each other out while I’m one step away from a hermit.”
“So what?”
“So!You know how I am.I get lost.Cut myself off from the world.”
“Zoey.”
The amused exasperation in her tone frustrates me.She doesn’t get it.
“You all drop everything to come save me.And I hate it.Mainly because I keep needing it.”
“Sweetheart, no.We’re not saving you.We’re loving you.”
“I …” Words don’t come easy as I try to explain something about myself I don’t even fully grasp.
“We know how strong you are.”My mom reaches out to clasp my hand.“And we also know that your mind lies to you sometimes.That it tells you that you don’t deserve happiness.We’re here to remind you that you do and that you’re loved.”
Mom tilts her head toward the front porch, and I hear the strains of Maren Morris’s “The Bones.”The same song I had on repeat the week leading up to my leaving for Pine Falls.
“To be honest, I think they needed to see you more than you needed them.”
“They … hell, Mom.”My fingers curl into claws around their invisible collective neck.I’d neverreallystrangle them.Only in my imagination.“They piss me off so much.”
She chuckles but tries to restrain the reaction when I glare at her.
“It’s disheartening.Having to choose to live with their constant smothering just so I don’t drown.”
Humor leaves her then, and she squeezes my palm.“You won’t drown, sweetheart.I promise you.”
“You don’tknow, Mom.”I feel like there’s only one person who does.And she’s gone.
But maybe I can make my mother understand.
I pull free and hobble away, toward the back bedroom.The boom box sits beside the bed.I grab it and the precious wooden box full of decades-old tapes, returning to the kitchen.
