Page 43 of All of You
A sense of dread slowly devours me throughout the evening.Where is she?It started as the best day, and turned into the worst damn day.
“Stop fidgeting and sit,” Gramps barks.
“Sorry. Where did you say she went again?”
“She was going to run an errand and then pop over to Anna’s. She didn’t go into a whole lotta detail kid, but you’ve got to stop worrying.”
I wring my hands together in my lap. “I don’t have anything here. All my clothes, all my stuff is in the camper.”
Gramps pauses his show and turns to face me. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t consider that. Um, all your mom’s stuff is still in her room though. I bet you can find some pajamas that’ll fit.”
“What are you talking about?”
Gramps heaves a breath out and then back in. “Maeve never could clean out her room. It’s just as she left it. Don’t worry though, we dusted once a week. Go see what you can find. I’ll try your mom again.”
Mom’s room is a time capsule from the early two thousands. There’s a window seat with a couple books stacked at one end.
The DiVinci Code, True Believer,andFlowers in the Attic.I sit on it and lean against the wall while staring out the window at the rain. Something jabs my lower back uncomfortably.
Tucked behind the window seat cushion is a spiral-bound notebook. I yank it out. The cover reads MATH in Mom’s swoopy handwriting. Irritated, I toss it on the floor.Where the hell are you Mom?I watch for headlights for what feels like forever but none come. I yank open the dresser drawers and find loads of clothing options.
I pull out a Dave Matthews band tee shirt and a pair of pajama pants and tug them on. They smell like my mom. I fist the shirt, pulling it up to my nose inhaling, tears well in my eyes. I rummage around room. Lots of books. Some cheap bottles of perfume. Long expired makeup and a few stuffed animals.
Her walls are covered in band posters and drawings. ButMom can’t draw for shit, so I deliberate on who could have drawn them. The bottom corner of each has a loopy capital D on it. That rules Anna out, and besides that, I don’t know who she had for friends. They’re mostly drawings of the fields and flowers in the backyard. A couple of the river. The bridge where kids were jumping off.
I pull open the closet door and before I can step in I nearly trip on a large trash bag stuffed to the hilt. I pull it out and open it. A scream peels out of me as I pull out my clothes. Gramps comes charging up the stairs and blows through the door as if he’s done so a million times before.
Maybe he has.
“What is it?”
I sob over the trash bag. “They’re mine.” I hold up my favorite dress. A shoe. The braided belt we bought together at a fair two years ago. “It’s all my stuff.” My voice quivers and tears streak down my face.
I look up to Gramps confused. He closes his eyes and sinks to his knees next to me on the floor. With one arm he pulls me to his side and kisses the top of my head.
“God dammit Jennifer,” he curses.
Gramps is in the room next to me and snores loudly, but I’m not mad. It is nice to be a little bit closer to someone else. It is nice to not be alone. I can’t sleep. I don’t know how Gramps can, but he’s lost my mom before. Maybe that’s what makes us different.
He held me for a long while. Too long. It was awkward and uncomfortable—we barely know each other. But I sensed he didn’t care, that he understood my grief. He held me until my tears dried up and I could breathe again. Then without a word, we looked at each other and he left me alone.
Why would she leave? What did I do? I replay the morning over and over. She walked me to the bus stop. Smiled her big, bright smile and waved. I waved back. Did I say I love you?
Twenty Two
Langdon
Delia looks rough this morning. Her eyes are rimmed red and I don’t think she bothered to brush her hair. She doesn’t even look at me when she sits down. I want to ask her what’s wrong but I don’t. She has an air of don’t-fuck-with-me about her today.
At lunch, I scour the cafeteria for her but she’s nowhere to be found. Hailie and Hannah and Campbell and Niko are blabbering on but I can hardly pay attention to them. Where the hell is Delia? I catch Danny at the end of lunch.
“Seen Delia today?” I ask, falling in step next to him.
He shakes his head.
At the end of the day, I stop Miles at his locker.
“Hey. Where’s Delia?”
