And then, in a move I didn’t see coming, he wraps me in a hug.
My surprise makes me stiff, and I feel bad about that. I think David could use a good hug, but it’s awkward with Brady and Finn looking on.
David pulls away and clears his throat. He looks around at the three onlookers and nods, then hurries away.
Finn’s the first to speak. “What the hell was that about?”
I shake my head as I watch him disappear through the double doors that have been propped open.
“I’ll tell you another time.”
The four of us walk out of the church and into the blinding desert sun.
19
Then
This is bullshit.
I can’t believe I have to go home tohim. I wish some kind of black magic could carry him away from this town, from this country, maybe even the planet.
Before I go into the house, I turn and watch Brady’s car disappear. My stomach feels sick, a result of nerves and the sugar from eating two and a half donuts. Finn ate three. So did Brady. We waited for Mr. and Mrs. Sterling to leave for their tee time, then I climbed into Brady’s car and he drove me home. The boys were quiet this morning, but then so was I.
I place my hand on the door handle, but I can’t bring myself to open it. I let it go and back up a couple feet to the edge of the front walk where the concrete meets landscaping rock. Bending, my fingers sift through the grayish-tan rocks until I find the largest one. I place it in my pocket.Just in case.I can’t go in there without a way to protect myself. Too bad I don’t have a slingshot.
I walk into a quiet house. Pausing, I strain my ears for any sound. There’s nothing, and then after a moment, I hear something in the kitchen, like a paper being moved. I creep through the foyer and peer around the wall into the kitchen, my body on high alert.
When I see my mother, the breath I’ve been holding seeps out. She’s sitting at the small breakfast table beside the window. Her back is to me as she flips a page of the Arizona Republic, a piece of buttered toast in her hand.
“Mom.” I walk in and go to the table, placing my hands on the back of the chair opposite her.
She looks up, her eyes questioning. She has a tiny smear of butter on her chin.
“Where’s Ted?” I ask.
“He went back to sleep.” She frowns, worry in the pinch of her eyebrows, and glances back in the direction of their room. “He said he wasn’t feeling well.”
This is my chance. I take a seat and gather my nerves. She’s back to looking at the paper, so I reach across the table and place my hand on hers before she can turn the page again. She looks up into my eyes.
“I need to talk to you.” My tone is low and urgent.
“What is it?”
Without pausing to relive the memory, I spit out the tale. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.
And then, my mother laughs. It’s a soft sound, accompanied by a slowly shaking head. “Lennon, you’re mistaken. Ted would never do that.”
I’m prepared for her denial, because it’s the reaction that would make the most sense from her. “He did, Mom. Last night.” I cross my hand over my chest. “I promise.” I look into her eyes, willing her to believe me.
Her face hardens and she drops the page of the paper she was reading. “Don’t you dare, Lennon. Don’t you dare! Making up lies like that. Shameful.”
“Why would I lie about something like this?” As though I would ever want to think about Ted like that long enough to concoct a lie.
Her hands fly into the air. “How should I know? But I’ll tell you what Idoknow. Ted didn’t do what you’re saying. He’s apastorfor God’s sake.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh, only mine isn’t soft. It’s loud and incredulous. How is this my life right now?
My mom pins me with a glare that could freeze the sun. “If I catch you spreading this lie, I’m not paying for college. Do you understand me?” She rises from her chair.
