Chapter 7 #3
“I could see how you’d think that, but I’ve always been old for my age.
And he was nice to me. At first. I needed a place to go because my mom was in jail and I couldn’t pay the rent.
That could have been when I lost so much,” I said.
“I had to vacate the apartment and I only took what I could carry. But I have to believe that my birth certificate was already long-gone, because the stuff in that place was mostly trash. Anyway, he ended up not being very nice in the end, so I moved out, and I had even less stuff.” I paused.
“But I guess that’s the answer to my question about running.
If you don’t do it for seven years, you lose your speed. ”
Nolan didn’t answer that. He went inside and I walked around the front for a while, looking at the plants he had growing there.
I didn’t know the names of any of them (besides “bush,” “tree,” or “flower”) but I could see that it was all taken care of because he had a crew that came in periodically to mow, blow away dead stuff, and weed.
Everything in this house was kept up. It took away a lot of anxiety when things around you were smooth and safe like they were here.
You didn’t have to worry if water would come out of the faucet or if you should put a pine needle on the door handle.
I sat on the steps and enjoyed being outside in the neat yard and after a while, he came back to join me. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Why? For what?”
“For yelling that the man you lived with was a predator,” he explained.
“No, that wasn’t yelling,” I told him. “You weren’t even close to yelling!
I can understand how you’d think that about him.
If I heard that a girl was moving in with a guy so much older, I would be furious and if I had a better relationship with the police, I would call them.
As things stand, I would have to deal with him my own way. ”
“How?”
“This is going to make me sound really bad,” I warned, but then realized that a lot of what I told him had already made me sound that way.
“Ok. I’ll tell you but I promise that I wouldn’t ever do these things to you.
” I took a breath. “So, with Kolter? He mistreated me. He stole from me and he really hurt me.”
“The police—” he started to say, but I shook my head. I wasn’t going to mess myself up with them. Even after what happened in the hotel parking lot, I had successfully avoided them. My mom had taught me that skill, too.
“I got back at him by doing stuff to his car,” I continued.
“I let air out of the tires. Then I put sand from the driveway into his gas tank and I washed it down the tube with water so he wouldn’t notice.
It ended up that I put in a lot of sand and I poured water in the place where the oil goes, too.
Basically, I sabotaged him until the car broke down.
He was so mad but he had no idea that I had done it.
In the end, it was dumb because I also hurt myself.
It made him angry and he took his mood out on me.
” I put my hand on his arm. “You’re the only one who knows. Please don’t tell.”
“Do you think I would?”
“I shouldn’t have done it in the first place. I just wanted to get back at him somehow, but I realize that it was really childish—”
“And he deserved it.”
“He did deserve it. I mean, yeah, he was great to me when I showed up here, because I didn’t have a place to go and I was at the end of my rope, but he also got stuff. Which makes me think of you—”
He cut me off again. “Please don’t compare me to that guy.”
“No, you two are not alike, not at all. But here I am staying at your house, and you’re not getting anything from me.
Nothing.” When he’d been home from one of his trips, I had shown him the list I was keeping of the costs I was adding to his life.
He had shaken his head and told me to stop that, because he didn’t care.
I brought it up now. “You said that you don’t care but I do. I’ve been on the other side, when someone was taking advantage of me. I don’t want to be that person in our situation.”
“I’ve had friends stay with me—”
Now I was the cutter-offer. “I know that some guy stayed with you for six months and you weren’t sure of his last name, and I know that you gave away tons of money to people and never expected to see it again.
But I also know that those people were just crapola.
They were scammers,” I translated. “I don’t want to be like that, but I still don’t have enough money to get myself anywhere.
Cadence scared me a lot with stories about my car getting towed and me getting stranded or arrested because I don’t really own it, so I’m afraid of driving too far. ”
“Yes, that’s ridiculous. Let me get my wallet.”
“Why?” I asked, but he was gone.
He returned in a moment. “My cousin owns a car dealership,” he said briefly. “I’m sure there’s something we could pick up today.”
“Are you talking about buying a car? A whole car, right now?” I shook my head. “What?”
“You just said that you’re afraid to use yours.”
“But I can’t use yours, either! That would be worse!” I said. I could get pulled over while behind the wheel of some beautiful vehicle that smelled just like the SUV when it had been new. “No, no,” I said. “Absolutely not.”
“So, you’ll have to get a driver’s license,” he agreed. “Let’s do that instead.” He went back into the house, like he was going to find it there?
This time, I followed. “Nolan?” I called and heard him answer that he was in the library. I had never seen him use that room before but there he was, behind the dark-wood desk (real wood, not plastic). He had pulled over a chair that I could use and he was trying to turn on a laptop.
“This may be dead…no, here it goes.” The screen brightened and then he took out his phone. “Since this is your life, I want you to hear the conversation, but you don’t need to speak. She’s abrasive and unpleasant.”
“Who?” I wondered.
“My mother.” He flipped through contacts, of which he had a ton, and found the correct one. But it was labeled “Mère.”
“Her name is mere?” I asked.
“Mère,” he said, and the last part got compressed in his throat so it sounded very different from how I’d said it. “It means ‘mother.’ She was raised speaking French and she’ll only talk to me in that language.”
“Then how am I going to understand the conversation?”
He looked at me. “I didn’t think about that.
I’ll try to type out what we’re saying as I take notes on the call.
” First, he asked me to write down any details I had about myself—anything at all.
So I included my date and place of birth and also my sister’s and mother’s information, too.
I knew my sister’s DOB but not my mom’s, and there wasn’t much on the list. He read it over and then tapped the name on his phone.
His mère answered before it even rang, so the woman was either clairvoyant or right on top of her calls.
“Nolan,” she said, and then he let loose in another language.
I didn’t hear “crudités” but I did catch “Vivienne” and also “O’Keeffe.
” She answered and he typed some things, but just a few words so I couldn’t really follow how their conversation was going.
Then he looked at my list of facts and seemed to read from it.
Even though those were things about me, they were translated into French so that I couldn’t understand.
He asked me some additional questions in English, like where I’d gone to school, my first known address, any other family names…
there really wasn’t a lot more that I could add, but he relayed everything (at least, I thought that he did).
“Oui, c'est tout. That’s it,” he said. He listened for another moment, and it didn’t seem like he said goodbye before he hung up.
Then he turned to me. “It’s always better to call her.
She won’t respond to texts because she considers them to be rude and I’ve tried to email her before, but I think she lets my messages go into her spam folder. ”
I nodded because that sounded reasonable to me. My mom would have sent my messages to spam, too, if she’d used email. “What did she say?” I pointed at his laptop screen, which displayed a bunch of words but a lot were in French.
“Sorry, I forgot what I was doing. She’ll take your case.”
“My…I have a case?”
“I should have said, she’ll look into this for you. She’ll be in touch soon.”
“Really? She thinks that she can get results so fast?” I asked.
“If anyone can, my mother is the person.” He looked toward the window. “We should go to the dealership anyway and see what Ryan has in stock.”
“Wait, tell me more about what your mom said on your call,” I requested.
“I explained that my friend Vivienne needs to reclaim her lost documentation, and then I gave her your information.”
“Did she want to know why I don’t have that paperwork already?” I asked.
“No, she doesn’t care.”
“How is she doing? Is she having a good summer?”
“I have no idea,” he answered.
“You didn’t ask her? Didn’t you guys catch up at all?” Every once in a while, I had talked to my mom after I’d moved out. She’d always had a lot to say about her activities, most of which I hadn’t wanted to hear.
“We don’t have that kind of relationship, so I stuck to business. Let’s go for ice cream on the way home,” he suggested, and who was I to say no to an offer like that?
We left but I was still thinking about parents, his and mine, his friend Beau, and Cadence’s mom who lied about where her husband had gone. Maybe, someday, I could also…no. I didn’t make plans like that. There was no sense in doing that when the present was so precarious.
But there was always ice cream.