Chapter 13 #2
I’m really proud of him for doing that. I know he only did it because he had to, but he could’ve picked someone else to stand up for, and done it when there were fewer people around.
Practically the whole school saw what happened with Charlotte, and I could tell Briggs wasn’t just playing along to get the assignment done.
He showed real compassion for Charlotte.
It wasn’t an act. He genuinely wanted to help her.
That’s the Briggs I keep falling for. The Briggs I think I might love.
* * *
After school, I go home and jump when I see someone in the kitchen. It’s Susan. She’s standing by the sink, chopping carrots.
“Ella, did I startle you?”
“Yeah.” I put my hand on my chest as I try to catch my breath. “I thought you were a burglar.”
She smiles. “Sorry. I should’ve said something when you came in.
I thought your father would’ve told you I’d be here today.
He must have forgotten.” She puts the carrots in a pot on the stove.
“I had a break at work so I offered to come over and make dinner.” She looks at me.
“I hope it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. ”
“I don’t care if you make dinner. It’s just strange to see someone actually cooking something in the kitchen. Dad and I usually order in or just heat stuff in the microwave.”
Having her here does make me uncomfortable, but I don’t want to tell her that. This is something my dad should’ve talked to me about before she showed up here. I don’t mind her coming over, but cooking in our kitchen, like my mom used to do? I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
“What are you making?” I ask.
“Pot roast with carrots and potatoes. I was going to toss the potatoes in with the . . .”
I stop listening when I see the photos are gone. The bookcase that used to have shelves full of photos now only has one shelf with photos of me. The ones with my mom are gone. My dad took them down. Did Susan tell him to do that, or did he do it on his own?
“Ella?”
“What?” I look back at Susan.
She smiles. “Which did you want? Roasted potatoes or mashed potatoes?”
“Um, mashed. I need to go study.” I grab my backpack and go into my room and shut the door.
I like Susan, but I’m not ready for this. Just a few months ago, my dad wasn’t even dating, and now his new girlfriend is practically moving in.
I call up my dad.
“Hey, honey, are you home?”
“Yeah, and your girlfriend’s here. She was here when I got home. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did. I told you yesterday.”
“You did?”
“I asked you if it was okay and you said it was. Don’t you remember?”
I don’t, but I remember him talking to me when we went to fill up the equipment with gas. I wasn’t listening to whatever he was saying. He must’ve been talking about Susan.
“I didn’t think she’d be here this early,” I say.
“The roast needs time to cook. She wanted it to be done when I got home. She’ll have dinner with us and then she has to go back to work. If you have a few minutes, maybe you could talk to her, get to know her a little better.”
“Maybe. I have a lot of homework to do before the game tonight.” I pause, wondering if I should ask about the photos now or wait to bring it up.
“Ella? You still there?”
“Yeah, so um, what happened to the pictures?”
“I put them away. They’re in a box in your room.”
I look around and see a box next to my closet. “Why’d you take them down? Did Susan tell you to?”
“No. She’s never even mentioned them. I did it because it didn’t seem right for her to have to see me with another woman every time she came over. But I can put back the ones with you and your mother. I don’t want you to ever feel like I’ve forgotten her.”
“Would you only be doing it because of me?”
“Ella, why don’t we talk about this later? I need to get back to work.”
“Just tell me. Do you not want Mom’s pictures up anymore?”
“I love seeing pictures of your mother, but it’s also difficult. It reminds me what I’ve lost, and what you lost by not having your mother all these years. It’s been hard to move on when I see her there every day. I think that’s why I haven’t been able to date until just recently.”
“Dad, why didn’t you tell me this?”
“Because I didn’t want to upset you. I’ll put the pictures back when I get home.”
“No. It’s okay. I’ll keep them in my room.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
“I should’ve talked to you before I did it. I’m sorry, honey.”
“I’ll let you get back to work. Bye, Dad.”
I end the call before I start crying. I shouldn’t cry over this.
It’s just a few photos, and I totally get where he’s coming from.
It’s been over twelve years since she died.
It’s time to move on, for both of us. But for some reason, seeing her pictures disappear from the bookshelf feels like I’m losing her all over again.
I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. It’s something my mom used to make me do when I got upset, and I’ve been doing it ever since. As I’m blotting my face dry, I hear pots clanking in the kitchen.
I should go talk to Susan and see if she’ll tell me about the case.
“So how was work?” I ask, walking over to the kitchen table and taking a seat.
“Busy,” she says as she cuts up potatoes. “They’ve assigned me to three new cases. I can’t seem to catch up. I have to go back there tonight.”
“Are you still working on the hit-and-run case?”
“Yes, and I think we’re getting closer to finding out who did it.”
“Really?” I feel my pulse speed up. “Who do you think it is?”
“We haven’t identified them yet.” She slides the potatoes from the cutting board to the pot. “We’re still working on the security camera from the gas station. So far, we’re only able to identify the vehicle, although we can’t see the license plate.”
“What kind of vehicle?”
“A white Range Rover,” she says, rinsing the cutting board in the sink.
“There’s a lot of those around. How do you figure out who it belongs to?”
“If we could get the video repaired so it’s not so blurry, we might be able to see who was in it. Right now they just look like dark figures.”
“What about the people using the pay phone?”
“We still can’t identify them. The video is too blurry.” She takes the dishtowel off the stove handle to dry her hands, then flings it over her shoulder and opens the fridge. “Do you know if you have an onion?”
“I doubt it. We don’t buy onions.”
“I should’ve got one when I was at the store,” she says, closing the fridge.
“Did that guy tell you anything?” I ask. “Before he died?”
“The victim? No, nothing specific about who hit him. He said he heard the voices of several young men, but he didn’t see their faces.”
“So it was all guys in the car?”
“We think there was a young woman too. The one who was at the pay phone.” Susan pauses, her eyes going to me. “Isn’t there a young man at your school who drives a white Range Rover?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t really pay attention to that stuff.”
She walks up to me. “Your father mentioned you were friends with him.”
“Me? Friends with a guy at school? No.” I shake my head. “I’m not friends with anyone at that school, except for Charlotte.”
Susan tilts her head, eyeing me like she’s in investigation mode. “Your father said you’re friends with the Chadwick boy.”
“We’re not friends. We’re lab partners.”
“Your father said he’s seen a white Range Rover parked in front of the Chadwick house.”
“Maybe. I don’t really know. Briggs has a lot of friends. I guess it’s possible one of them has a white Range Rover.”
This is getting out of control. I was just going to ask her a few questions about the case, and now I feel like I’m the one being interrogated.
She sits down across from me. “What do you know about Briggs Chadwick?”
“He’s rich. Popular. Drives a fancy car. Oh, and he’s captain of the rugby team so everyone at school treats him like a god.”
She’s staring at me in a way that’s making me very uncomfortable. Does she know something she’s not telling me?
“What about his friends?”
“I don’t know them. I don’t hang out with those people. I don’t know if my dad told you, but I’m kind of a nerd, or that’s what people think of me at school.”
“Why?”
“Because I keep to myself and get good grades.”
“Your father said you’ve been spending a lot of time with Briggs.”
“Only because we’re partners for this lab assignment we have to do outside of class.”
“That’s all it is? You two are nothing more than lab partners?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Your father said Briggs has shown up at the house several times, wanting to see you. He said it seemed like you two were more than just lab partners.”
“He always thinks that.” I roll my eyes. “He thinks if I’m friends with a guy it means I’m dating him.”
“But you said you’re not friends with Briggs.”
“I’m not. I was talking in general.” I look over at the counter. “You need some help with dinner?”
“Thank you for offering, but I think I’m good. I just need to put the roast in the oven.”
I get up from the table. “I wish we could talk more, but I really need to do my homework. Dad gave me the afternoon off so I could catch up.”
“Go ahead.” She watches as I leave. “It was good talking to you.”
“You too,” I say, before going to my room.
I need to tell Briggs about this. He’ll tell me not to worry, like he always does, but I think I have reason to worry.
Susan’s looking for a white Range Rover and was asking me about Finn’s, like she’s considering him a suspect.
If she tracks down the body shop records and is able to see who’s on the video from the gas station, it’ll all be over.
She’ll find out the guys were there that night, and that I was too.