And then, “Try and be home tomorrow night,” she said. “I’ll make halibut.” She spritzed starch on khaki pants. I was home free. I should have felt relieved, but I didn’t, not really.
“I’ll try,” I said.
For a moment, I thought about telling her the truth. Of all people, she’d understand. She’d want to help. She loved them both. It was my mother who took Conrad to the emergency room the time he broke his arm skate-boarding, because Susannah was shaking so hard she couldn’t drive. My mother was steady, solid. She always knew what to do.
Or at least, she used to. Now I wasn’t so sure. When Susannah got sick again, my mother went on autopilot, doing what needed doing. Barely present. The other day I’d come downstairs to find her sweeping the front hallway, and her eyes were red, and I’d been afraid. She wasn’t the crying kind. Seeing her like that, like an actual person and not just my mother, it almost made me not trust her.
My mother set down her iron. She picked up her purse from the counter and pulled out her wallet. “Buy Taylor some Ben & Jerry’s, on me,” she said, handing me a twenty.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, taking the twenty and stuffing it into my pocket. It would come in handy for gas money later.
“Have fun,” she said, and she was gone again. Absent. Ironing the same pair of khaki pants she’d just gone over.
When I was in my car, driving away, I finally let myself feel it. Relief. No silent, sad mother, not today. I hated to leave her and I hated to be near her, because she made me remember what I wanted most to forget. Susannah was gone, and she wasn’t coming back, and none of us would be the same ever again.
chapterseven
At Taylor’s house, the front door was almost never locked. Her staircase, with its long banister and shiny wooden steps, was as familiar to me as my own.
After I let myself into the house, I went straight up to her room.
Taylor was lying on her stomach, flipping through gossip magazines. As soon as she saw me, she sat up and said, “Are you a masochist, or what?”
I threw my duffel bag on the floor and sat down next to her. I’d called her on the way over; I’d told her everything. I hadn’t wanted to, but I’d done it.
“Why are you going off looking for him?” she demanded. “He’s not your boyfriend anymore.”
I sighed. “Like he ever really was.”
“My point exactly.” She thumbed through a magazineand handed it to me. “Check it out. I could see you in this bikini. The white bandeau one. It’ll look hot with your tan.”
“Jeremiah’s going to be here soon,” I said, looking at the magazine and handing it back to her. I couldn’t picture me in that bikini. But I could picture her in it.
“Yousoshould have picked Jeremy,” she said. “Conrad is basically a crazy person.”
I’d told her and told her how it wasn’t as easy as picking one or the other. Nothing ever was. It wasn’t as though I’d even had a choice, not really.
“Conrad’s not crazy, Taylor.” She’d never forgiven Conrad for not liking her the summer I brought her to Cousins, the summer we were fourteen. Taylor was used to all the boys liking her, she was unaccustomed to being ignored. Which was exactly what Conrad had done. Not Jeremiah, though. As soon as she batted her big brown eyes at him, he was hers. HerJeremy, that’s what she’d called him—in that teasing kind of way, the kind that boys love. Jeremiah lapped it right up, too, until she ditched him for my brother, Steven.
Pursing her lips, Taylor said, “Fine, maybe that was alittleharsh. Maybe he’s not crazy. But, like, what? Are you always just going to be sitting around waiting for him? Whenever he wants?”
“No! But he’s in some kind of trouble. He needs his friends now more than ever,” I said, picking at a loosestrand on the carpet. “No matter what happened between us, we’ll always be friends.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. The only reason I’m even signing off on this is for you to get closure.”
“Closure?”
“Yes. I can see now that it’s the only way. You need to see Conrad face-to-face and tell him you’re over him and you’re not gonna play his games anymore. Then and only then can you move on from his lame ass.”
“Taylor, I’m not innocent in all this either.” I swallowed. “The last time I saw him, I was awful.”
“Whatever. The point is, you need to move on. On to greener pastures.” She eyed me. “Like Cory. Who, by the way, I doubt you even have a chance with anymore after last night.”
Last night seemed like a thousand years ago. I did my best to look contrite and said, “Hey, thanks again for letting me leave my car here. If my mom calls—”
“Please, Belly. Show a little respect. I’m the queen of lying to parents, unlike you.” She sniffed. “You’re gonna be back in time for tomorrow night, right? We’re all gonna go out on Davis’s parents’ boat, remember? You promised.”
“That’s not until eight or nine. I’m sure I’ll be back by then. Besides,” I pointed out, “I neverpromisedyou anything.”
