Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
PRESENT DAY
The next day at school, George approaches me at recess. It’s nice to see a friendly face. “I heard you had a family emergency over the weekend. Hope everything’s okay.”
I brush his arm with my hand, not sure what to say. Everything’s definitely not okay, for every reason possible. Margie. Will. My living situation. Ruth. Mom. But I don’t have the time—or the bandwidth—to dig into all that’s going wrong right now.
“Thank you,” I say simply. “I appreciate you checking. It’s been a”—my voice catches—“rough few days, but I’m tough.”
“I imagine you’d have to be. To deal with this crew.” His smile is soft as he gestures toward the students running wild on the playground. “Doesn’t mean you don’t need a friend. Is there anything I can do?”
His kindness makes me sad. It makes me feel hopeless. Will I ever be in a position to offer help? Or will I always be the one needing help?
This pain seems like it’ll last an eternity.
“I’ll let you know if there ever is,” I tell him.
He pats my shoulder, then backs away, looking regretful. “I should get back to the gym before my next class. But you call if you need anything, you hear me?”
When he’s gone, a cold numbness locks my jaw. What is it about pain that makes it feel so permanent? I’ve survived everything life has thrown at me thus far, and yet every time I’m hurting, I’m certain it will always feel this bad.
This is different though.
To lose Ruth and potentially Margie in such a short time, it’s the kind of loss you just don’t get over. Not really.
After school, I stop by Mom’s. I’m in no hurry to go back to Will’s.
I find her in the kitchen, organizing the cabinets. Like me, when life gets messy, she tends to retreat into the controllable. I sink down onto the floor next to her, and she glances over at me. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Any news on Margie?”
“She’s still sedated. No new bleeding or swelling as of around two, so we’ll just continue to be thankful for the positives.” She eyes me. “What’s wrong?” she asks again, this time more pointed.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” She slips a pan into the cabinet and then turns to face me. “Tell me.”
I groan. “It’s just Will. He and I got into a fight, and I’ve tried so hard to not let that happen. He’s going through so much and…I don’t know. It was my fault. I let him get to me.”
She watches me, waiting to see if I’ll say more. When I don’t, she says, “You and Will have always figured it out. It won’t be any different this time. You need each other now, maybe more than you ever have.”
I purse my lips. “You’ve never really seen us for what we are.”
It’s true. Even as kids, Mom never really listened to me when I complained about Will.
All the moms treated us as siblings, simply letting us work through our issues alone, which usually resulted in us ignoring each other for months at a time.
It’s why we spent less and less time together as we got older, until the line was firmly drawn that night at the bonfire.
I force the thought away. I can’t go back there. I just can’t.
“I see that he cares about you,” she says softly, her eyes searching mine. “Almost as much as I do.”
I scoff. “Will can’t stand me.”
Her brows quirk, amused. “He tries to tell himself that sometimes, but it doesn’t make it true.”
This is just how Mom is. She won’t accept the reality we’re in. “Anyway, I’m trying to help him through this. And we got into it, which obviously isn’t helping, so I came here because I’m avoiding talking to him again.”
“All Will needs is for you to be there for him. And you need him.” She pats my hand. “You’re going through this too, honey. It’s not just Will and Cory.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Maybe not. But it’s not all that different.
Margie was a parent to you, too. She took you to doctor’s appointments when I had to work.
She took you shopping for junior prom when I was sick.
She made sure you learned how to parallel park.
You had as many meals at her house, or Ruth’s, as you did here.
You had three mothers, and I’ve always known it.
We were lucky that way.” Her face goes sad, eyes glistening with sudden tears.
She brushes them away, sniffling. “Anyway, I guess that explains why Will was at Margie’s last night. ”
My brain skids to a stop. “What?”
“I saw the light on over there from my bedroom window. I assumed Cory had gone over there, but when I asked him this morning, he said he never left the house. Must’ve been Will.”
I think back over last night, double-checking my memory. “No. Will never left the apartment.”
She pinches her lips together, eyes hazy as she thinks. “Hmm. Well, maybe I’m wrong.”
But she doesn’t look like she believes that.
“You saw someone at Margie’s?”
She gives a slow nod. “Well, I thought so. Maybe a light got left on. I’ll go over later and check—”
“Mom,” I say firmly, dread swimming through me. “It’s time we all start taking this seriously. First Ruth, then Margie. Someone might hurt you next. If you saw a light on, you should’ve called the police.”
“I told you, I thought it was Cory. And anyway, you’re being dramatic. The police have more important things to do.”
“Two of your friends were attacked.”
“Two of my friends…” Her eyes wander off, unable to finish her thought. “Opal. That’s enough. I can’t keep doing this. No one hurt Margie or Ruth.” She stares down at her hands, then, under her breath, she adds, “Not physically.”
Her voice is so soft I almost miss that last part. “What does that mean?”
She turns back to the pans on the floor. “It means I’m fine. Or I would be if you’d leave this alone.”
“I’m staying here,” I say firmly. “Until we figure out what’s going on. I should’ve come back with you last night. I never should’ve gone back to the apartment. I just want to be sure you’re safe.”
“Honey, I am safe.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Opal,” she says firmly. She pats her leg once, letting the moment stretch. Then she takes a deep breath. “I’m the parent. And I’m fine. I have Cory. He’s going to stay another night or two. If I thought I was in danger, I’d never let him bring Richie here.”
“You asked us all to stay before. You’re saying I can’t now?”
“That was when I thought it was for the best. But I don’t need two babysitters, thank you. You have a life to live, and you’re not going to use me as an excuse to avoid your problems with Will.”
“This is not about Will.”
She eyes me with that knowing look that’s always made me feel exposed, like she can read my every thought. “With you, Opal, I’ve found there are very few things that aren’t about Will.”
I narrow my eyes at her but refuse to give her the satisfaction of arguing. She just wants to change the subject. “Well, where is Cory now? You were alone until I got here.”
“He just ran out to get Richie from school. They’ll be back.”
I chew my bottom lip. There’s no use pushing her. There has to be another way. “I’ll ask Will about going to Margie’s last night. You’re sure it wasn’t Cory?”
“Unless he’s lying to me,” she says. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll check with him again, but yes, I’d say I’m mostly positive.
Look, I just want us to focus all our energy into Margie getting better, okay?
I don’t want you worrying about me.” She glances my way just once after a pause.
“I love you for doing it, but everything’s going to be fine.
She just has to get better. We’re going to be okay. ”