Chapter Twenty-Six
“Regular tea, peppermint, chai, coffee…” Nan pauses, bending at the waist. She opens a cupboard door beneath the cream Formica countertop.
“Hot chocolate?” Nan’s words are muffled as she speaks with strain reaching into the cupboard.
Half her body is buried in the opening, and I’m always surprised at how flexible she is for, well, an old person.
“Chai please, with a little honey,” I whisper, running my hand over the plastic tablecloth bursting with sunflowers.
With two mugs clasped in the palms of her hands, Nan places them on the countertop and moves to the opposite end of the kitchen, opening another cupboard to retrieve a tin filled with an assortment of our favorite tea bags.
I’m tracing a sunflower in front of me when Nan places the mug beside it with a warning, “It’s hot, sweetheart.”
“Thank you,” I rasp, blowing steam off the top.
“Have you seen him?” she asks, her voice croaky, dangling on the edge.
I watch wisps flutter away. “Seen who?”
Nan runs her thumb down the length of the handle slowly. “Chase.” Her voice lowers this time.
I shake my head, deciding to push the lip of the mug to my mouth even though its contents are entirely too hot to be consumed. The searing liquid slips past my lips.
“You both have lost way too much. Your best friend, his sister, your parents, his parents…”
I skip over the liquid on my tongue, coughing into the mug, and burning hot liquid splashes onto my face. Curling the fabric of Chase’s hoodie around my fist, I run it across my mouth, drying myself off. My stomach tilts.
“Wh-wh-what?” I stutter, pressing my fist to my lips.
Nan’s eyes meet mine. “Harlen didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head, pursing my lips. “Wh-what happened?” I ask quietly.
Nan reaches for my hand, squeezes it as tightly as she can, though it's gentle and weak. “How about a cinnamon—”
Tears are pin pricks at the rear of my eyes. “Please tell me, Nan.”
“Their house burned down overnight.” She stumbles over her words, and I find myself replacing her hands with mine, holding her tight enough without hurting her.
“Candle and a curtain, started a fire, they had no working smoke alarms...” She pauses to swallow, and I almost feel it myself when she looks up at me, her green eyes as haunted as mine.
“They were both inside, didn't make it out in time.”
And something deep inside of me tells me that story is exactly what the town was supposed to know, even though I don’t believe a word of it.
I drop my eyes to our joined hands.
“Nan,” I clear my throat, letting go of her hand. “Did you happen to have a chance to pick up a new phone from the store for me?”
“Oh, yes.” The legs of the wooden chair screech across the tiled flooring as she draws it back and stands, starting out of the room before returning with a plastic bag in her hand. “I don’t know if you need to charge it, or whatever you kids do.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, ripping open the box with my teeth and dropping the device into my hand. I rise to my feet and leave the rubbish at the table. “Do you mind if I…” I pause, angling my thumb toward the door.
“Not at all. Can you please let that beautiful boy know that I’m thinking of him.
” I nod, and she runs a hand over the sunflower in front of her, then looks up at me.
“Maybe we can have the cinnamon buns for dinner?” she smiles sadly.
And I pause at the edge of the room and nod again, brushing away the tear that rolls down my cheek.
“I’d like that.”
I knew his number by heart.
I tuck my legs beneath me, the wicker swing at the end of the porch lulling me as I punch it in, bite my lip and rest the phone gently at my ear.
The dial tone comes in ebbed waves and I close my eyes, squeezing them when I hit his voicemail.
A shiver ratchets down my spine.
There's no message, no sign of life, just a clipped beep.
I hang up and make good on dialing back.
Immediately, I’m met with the same wall of impact. Goosebumps break across my limbs, hard and strong. Pulling the phone away, I see that the call is still connected. I return it to my ear.
“Uh…Chase, it’s me, Laiken. I, uh…” I pause and let go of my breath. “Call me, please,” I whisper, then I hang up.
I stay outside all night with the phone clasped in the palm of my clammy hand, and he never calls back.