Getting Somewhere (38 page)

Cassie liked the idea of a ritual when she found out for sure about Gram (a letter from an attorney, a small check—the trailer and land apparently having gone to Gordon—no other information other than that she was dead). She decided she wanted to make a rock garden next to the bench by the marsh, and one brisk day in late October, they carted the rocks Cassie had selected to the spot and laid them in place in a spiral, ready to be planted in the spring. They each read a poem they had selected—Cassie choosing Mary Oliver's “Some Things, Say the Wise Ones”—and sang Gram's favorite song, which was “Sunny Side of the Street.”

It all made Cassie miss Jenna more than ever and somehow prompted her to suggest that maybe everyone could share the site, making offerings of whatever kind they liked for whatever reason. Even in the short time before the ground froze, the spot became an array of objects including a tiny carved canoe from Ellie, a turtle shell Donna found along the road, a kind of Tibetan prayer flag created by Sarah, and various stones, shells, twigs and leaves, seed pods, dried flower stalks, and nests. The last time Cassie walked out there, before the most recent snow, she noticed a piece of sycamore bark attached to two little forked sticks with bright red thread and printed with the word “Shannon.” Cassie doesn't know who that is or who placed the arrangement there, but something about it brings tears to her eyes.

She doesn't let herself cry when she is with Jenna, no matter how much she wants to. Now, she tries to keep her expression blank as Jenna describes a fight between two girls who actually dated the same guy on the outside.

“See the one over there with the orangeish hair?” Jenna asks, barely moving her head in the general direction. “She was driving when that same boyfriend held up a liquor store,” Jenna says. “Wasn't even old enough to have a license and probably didn't even know what he was doing in there. It's kind of sad, really. I'm pretty sure she can hardly read, sometimes stands behind me when I have a book and will point to something random and ask, ‘What does that say?'” Jenna is shaking her head and Cassie immediately changes her mind about mentioning the GED test she just passed with only one question wrong.

By the time Janie is tired of coloring and in desperate need of a nap, there is really nothing more to say. Cassie is frustrated by the realization that it has actually been Ellie and Donna who have known how to keep the conversation going. She had hoped for some private interchange, something to tangibly cement her connection with Jenna. With the struggle to get Janie's outdoor clothes back on completed, Jenna and Cassie exchange a quick hug, Jenna handing the diaper bag off as they arrive at the door.

For the first time ever, Jenna mutters, “Wish I could come with you.”

Cassie stops abruptly and turns to face Jenna. “Well, let's go,” she says brightly. “Arizona, right?”

Jenna smiles wryly and shakes her head. “You know, I'm not sure about that. I'm thinking maybe the best thing for me right now is to learn how to stay put.”

I
T'S A LONG
drive, and Cassie breathes a sigh of relief as she pulls into the driveway and parks the truck in front of the barn. She leaves the engine on and the heater running in hopes that Janie will stay asleep a few more minutes and climbs down, gently closes the truck door. She takes a few steps forward and stands looking out over the snow-covered fields, her hands crammed into the pockets of her coat, her stocking hat pulled tightly down over her ears.

It always hurts to leave Jenna behind when it's time to go. Cassie thinks of Jenna's last comment and smiles to herself. Though she probably won't be able to stop counting the days until Jenna's sentence is up, she needs to remember that Jenna has never said she's coming back to the farm. In fact, who can say where any of them will be by then? Cassie knows that the easy thing, the safe thing for her and Janie, would be to stay as long as she can, to just let time pass, the math and grammar textbooks making way for seed catalogues and garden diagrams, Janie's sippy cup and finger food replaced by china dishes and silverware. Yet, as perfect as the farm is for her right now, Cassie is aware of a gnawing hunger for a world she's never seen, people she hasn't met, a life that exists only in her imagination. She doesn't know if it's possible to keep a tight grip on what and who she has, especially Jenna, and still reach out for what she has never known.

But then, each of them has her own map, after all, and though Cassie hopes all of their paths will continue to intersect, it's hard, maybe impossible, to truly predict where a person might be going.