something like that a secret. They wrote an article about
it, for goodness sake.”
“She won’t
read the paper, Ma. I don’t want her to know—promise me you won’t say anything.
And that Dad won’t say anything if she’s here when he comes back.”
“What if Joyce
does? Or Sheila? Or Dr. Lambert?”
I shook my
head. “Don’t worry about them. Please promise me.”
“Whatever
for?” She snapped around to me, and I lowered my forehead against the table. I
didn’t want to explain all this right now. “Graham, you’ve got to give me more
than that. Tell me why you’re lying—and why you want me to lie—to the girl who
used to be a permanent fixture in this house and is now sleeping in the guest
room after disappearing for almost a year without a single peep. You’re keeping
something from me.”
“It’s
complicated.”
Mom grew
quiet. “You two didn’t get into some sort of trouble before she left did you?
You were safe?”
“God, Mom,” I
said, moving from the table. “It’s a little too late now for that kind of
quest—”
“Answer me,
Michael Graham Tucker.”
“Yes, ma’am,
we were safe! This has nothing to do with that. I would rather you didn’t tell
her.”
The door
creaked open from across the hall, and we both stopped talking. Cassie appeared
in the doorway, and Mom smiled as big as she could. I turned away and pretended
to pour myself some orange juice, even though my glass was full. I hoped she
didn’t hear any of that.
“Morning,
honey. Want some coffee?”
Cassie smiled
back. “Morning, Mrs. Tucker. That would be great.”
“I’m making
breakfast,” Mom said. “Get yourself cleaned up and it should be ready.”
“Thank you,”
Cassie said. I didn’t turn around until I heard the door click into place.
Mom leaned
against the counter so I could see her face. “So complicated that you don’t
even want to look at her?”
I nodded.
“Promise me.”
“Fine,” she
said. She stepped back to the stove, but I knew this conversation was far from
over. “At least take a couple pancakes with you before you go.”
I kissed her
cheek and bolted out the door before she could change her mind.
10.
Cassie
I’D ALWAYS HOPED I would
never have to re-enter the doors of St. Joseph’s Memorial Hospital. It was a
silly thing to dream, because there I was. Again. None of it had changed. Not
the paint or the noise or the smell that really had no smell at all.
Evidence
that life moved on // was everywhere but here // written in the stars // on
your face // in my heart
“There’s our
girl,” Sheila said as she wrapped me into a hug and pulled me from my thoughts.
“Graham said yesterday you would be here.”
“Graham was
here?”
“He came every
day.” Every day? She pushed me away and studied me up and down. “Look at you!
College must be good for you!”
I smiled.
“Sometimes. Can you let Dr. Lambert know I’m here?”
“Can do. You
want to see your mom? She’s okay today, but I think you’ll be a good fix.”
I nodded, but
no. I didn’t want to see my mom. What would I say after eleven months? “Sorry I
abandoned you but I couldn’t handle it anymore. I’m like the man who swore to
love you and then left you. Left us.”
MOM RESTED IN the poor excuse
for the rec room in this old floral armchair. I froze at the end of the
hallway, trying to find the nerve to move toward her. She looked fragile and
pale under the harsh lighting. Her hair was long again, a dusty shade of dark brown,
instead of the purple streaks she had the last time I saw her. She dyed it on
one of her bad days—the same day that Graham proposed to me. I went to talk to
her and dye was all over her clothes; she must have spilled it before she broke
down on the floor. That day was bad. I had to pretend that I wasn’t Cassie. I
was someone else, and I’d told her Cassie was asleep, so she didn’t freak out; I
had to listen when she cried for me to bring my father back to her, to
it, for goodness sake.”
“She won’t
read the paper, Ma. I don’t want her to know—promise me you won’t say anything.
And that Dad won’t say anything if she’s here when he comes back.”
“What if Joyce
does? Or Sheila? Or Dr. Lambert?”
I shook my
head. “Don’t worry about them. Please promise me.”
“Whatever
for?” She snapped around to me, and I lowered my forehead against the table. I
didn’t want to explain all this right now. “Graham, you’ve got to give me more
than that. Tell me why you’re lying—and why you want me to lie—to the girl who
used to be a permanent fixture in this house and is now sleeping in the guest
room after disappearing for almost a year without a single peep. You’re keeping
something from me.”
“It’s
complicated.”
Mom grew
quiet. “You two didn’t get into some sort of trouble before she left did you?
You were safe?”
“God, Mom,” I
said, moving from the table. “It’s a little too late now for that kind of
quest—”
“Answer me,
Michael Graham Tucker.”
“Yes, ma’am,
we were safe! This has nothing to do with that. I would rather you didn’t tell
her.”
The door
creaked open from across the hall, and we both stopped talking. Cassie appeared
in the doorway, and Mom smiled as big as she could. I turned away and pretended
to pour myself some orange juice, even though my glass was full. I hoped she
didn’t hear any of that.
“Morning,
honey. Want some coffee?”
Cassie smiled
back. “Morning, Mrs. Tucker. That would be great.”
“I’m making
breakfast,” Mom said. “Get yourself cleaned up and it should be ready.”
“Thank you,”
Cassie said. I didn’t turn around until I heard the door click into place.
Mom leaned
against the counter so I could see her face. “So complicated that you don’t
even want to look at her?”
I nodded.
“Promise me.”
“Fine,” she
said. She stepped back to the stove, but I knew this conversation was far from
over. “At least take a couple pancakes with you before you go.”
I kissed her
cheek and bolted out the door before she could change her mind.
10.
Cassie
I’D ALWAYS HOPED I would
never have to re-enter the doors of St. Joseph’s Memorial Hospital. It was a
silly thing to dream, because there I was. Again. None of it had changed. Not
the paint or the noise or the smell that really had no smell at all.
Evidence
that life moved on // was everywhere but here // written in the stars // on
your face // in my heart
“There’s our
girl,” Sheila said as she wrapped me into a hug and pulled me from my thoughts.
“Graham said yesterday you would be here.”
“Graham was
here?”
“He came every
day.” Every day? She pushed me away and studied me up and down. “Look at you!
College must be good for you!”
I smiled.
“Sometimes. Can you let Dr. Lambert know I’m here?”
“Can do. You
want to see your mom? She’s okay today, but I think you’ll be a good fix.”
I nodded, but
no. I didn’t want to see my mom. What would I say after eleven months? “Sorry I
abandoned you but I couldn’t handle it anymore. I’m like the man who swore to
love you and then left you. Left us.”
MOM RESTED IN the poor excuse
for the rec room in this old floral armchair. I froze at the end of the
hallway, trying to find the nerve to move toward her. She looked fragile and
pale under the harsh lighting. Her hair was long again, a dusty shade of dark brown,
instead of the purple streaks she had the last time I saw her. She dyed it on
one of her bad days—the same day that Graham proposed to me. I went to talk to
her and dye was all over her clothes; she must have spilled it before she broke
down on the floor. That day was bad. I had to pretend that I wasn’t Cassie. I
was someone else, and I’d told her Cassie was asleep, so she didn’t freak out; I
had to listen when she cried for me to bring my father back to her, to
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