“He was AWOL.”
I recognized the term fromM*A*S*H. “He ran away?”
She swiped at her face before studying her fingernails. “Something like that. He has a drinking problem, and I guess he got a girl pregnant. It all got to be too much, so he ditched the military. Mom and Dad eventually talked him into going back and facing the consequences, but I hear Mom crying at night, and Dad’s so uptight all the time. Then what happened to Maureen. I feel like I’m sinking, you know? It’s like I thought I was living one life, but it turned out everyone else was living another, and the two just crashed into each other. I don’t even know what’s real anymore.” She shook her head so forcefully that her hair fell into her face. “It sounds stupid.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I said, speaking the truest words I’d ever uttered. “I know exactly what you mean.”
She didn’t act like she heard me. She swiped at her nose, her earrings bobbing, her voice gone small. “That’s why I hung out with Ricky, Ricky and then Ed. Just to feel something besides sad all the time. And I don’t think Ed even likes me. He gave me these earrings, but he doesn’t pay much attention to me anymore.”
I grabbed her wrist. I’d promised Dad I wouldn’t spill what he’d revealed about Ed, and as much as I wanted to punish Dad for being a cheater, I wouldn’t break my word to him, especially if it meant he’d lose his job. But I couldn’t saynothing. “He’s bad news, Brenda. Ed, I mean. You shouldn’t hang out with him anymore. I heard he ... I heard he hurt someone in Saint Paul.”
“Got in a fight, you mean?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Something like that.”
I felt her moving a little bit toward me, like it could be us two against the world again. I wanted more of that. “Are you going to Ricky’s party?” I asked tentatively.
She massaged one of the gold balls, her forehead creased. “I was thinking about it.”
“You want to come over to my place instead?”
I expected her to say no, but instead, she threw her arms around me. “Oh boy, do I! We could have a girls’ night. That’d be so much better. Ed’s pushy, Heather. Ricky and Ant do whatever he says, and I guess I do, too. He makes everything seem like it matters, at least when I’m with him. As soon as he’s gone, I feel like a fool. And you know what else?” She sucked on her bottom lip, and then her face lit up. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “He’s a terrible kisser.”
“Ew,” I said. “Really?”
She was chuckling. “Yeah. His lips are all dry and tight, it’s like being pecked by a bird. I think he has to kiss that way because his teeth are so bad.”
“Stop it!” I said, laughing now, too.
“Oh, you’re going to hear all that and more tonight, so you better have the popcorn popped when I show up.”
We parted ways, me feeling better than I had any right to.
That night, I tackled another song offBlind Faith, “Can’t Find My Way Home,” while waiting for Brenda, playing a couch cushion with my drumsticks, rewinding when I missed a beat, trying again.
It took me a couple hours, but I finally nailed it.
There was still no Brenda, though, so I waited some more.
And some more.
Eventually, after the rest of the house had gone to sleep and the clock struck midnight, I fell asleep on the sofa, my drumsticks in my lap.
CHAPTER 38
Boom boom boom boom!
I shot up from the couch, disoriented, my pulse matching the pounding. I’d been dreaming of playing the drums. Had I carried that thunder into the waking world? Then the phone started ringing and the barrage against the door ramped up to include the doorknob jiggling furiously.
“Wake up, dammit! Gary, wake up!”
Dad rushed into the living room, tying his robe, looking worried. He’d come from his office. He’d either been working late or had been sleeping in there.
He unlocked the door and pulled it open. Jerome Nillson stood on our porch, hair sticking out in every direction, outlined by nightfall. He was clothed, but barely—slacks, a stained white undershirt. Someone had woken him up just like he was waking us up.
“What is it?” Dad asked.
But Sheriff Nillson’s eyes found me. He shoved Dad aside and strode into the living room, the pungent smell of liquor preceding him. “Where’s Brenda Taft?”
