Chapter Forty-Two
Susie
When I get off the plane in L.A., I lower my glasses against the outsized glare of the sun. I feel like I’m in an overexposed photograph, and if it weren’t so damn hot, I’d want to pull a coat over me and hide. Breathing in the hot, dry air parches my throat as I try to call out to Mom and Dad. They’re on the tarmac, waving at me.
Emotion explodes through me to my legs, and I burst into a run, my bag swinging from my shoulder and my arms outstretched. I hadn’t been looking forward to this trip, but now, seeing my parents, the longing for my family seeps through every cell, breaking down whatever brave front or bravado I’d been holding onto all year.
Even the distance, being so far away from Bryan, and not knowing when I’ll see him again, doesn’t diminish the splash of joy that hits me as I collapse into my dad’s arms and feel my mom add the weight of her hug. Surrounding me with their love, cocooning me like I haven’t felt since I was a child, overwhelms me, and the tears are automatic, even as I laugh, swiping them away.
Feeling foolish and too happy to really care at the same time, I hold onto my parents for a few more precious seconds, knowing this is what I’ve missed: their unconditional love, affection, and support when I’ve needed it most. Tomorrow I’ll be annoyed and feel put out by their well-meaning intrusion, but not today, not now.
When we get to the house my parents are renting, the first thing I notice is the phone on a small table in the entryway. It has an answering machine with a light like an office phone—and the light’s blinking.
Mom figures out how to play the message.
“Susie, it’s Bryan. Call me when you can.”
It’s not what he says, it’s the way he says it, the sound of his voice, like he’s desperate and in pain. Like he’s badly hurt and bleeding out in a ditch.
“He doesn’t say much,”
Mom says, “but he sounds desperate to talk to you.”
She smiles, not understanding everything behind the words—not that I know exactly what’s going on, but I know enough to understand the possible list of horrors.
I bite my lip. “Mom, I need to call him back right away.”
“Of course you do.”
“But it’s?—”
“Don’t worry about the long-distance charge. Not this time. I’ll go see about getting us some refreshments.”
She leaves me standing in the foyer with the phone.