“Well, I think it’s his loss,” I said
cheerily as I sipped my water. “That’s how you gotta look at it,
Tessa. It’s strictly Connor’s loss.”
Tessa stared at me. “Why the hell are you so
bubbly?”
“I’m just high on life, I guess,” I said and
smiled. I sounded crazier than ever.
“I hope you have that same attitude when you
see your mom after school,” Tessa said sarcastically.
And just like that, with one simple sentence,
my giddiness turned into gloominess. I didn’t want to think about
going home and dealing with my mother and the array of possible
punishments she would inflict upon me. It was easier living in a
state of complete denial.
I put the rest of my sandwich inside the bag
and crumpled it up. “Thanks a lot. Now I’ve lost my appetite
because of you.”
Tessa ate her salad. “It’s not my fault the
shit’s gonna hit the fan when you get home.”
Any happiness I had experienced after my
brief time with Michael completely dissipated by the time I boarded
the ferryboat bound for the island. And, no matter how uninterested
my mother may have seemed about my life in the past, I knew there
was no way I was going to remain unscathed when the axe finally
came down on Juniper Drive.
Even though I was scared to go home and face
the music, I knew it was unavoidable. I decided to get into my
mother’s good graces before she and James came home. Because our
“new” home was so old, it was more difficult to clean. Regardless,
I painstakingly scrubbed the kitchen and bathroom from top to
bottom until they were spotless and shiny. When I finished those
two rooms, I dusted and vacuumed the whole downstairs. I looked
around me. The antiquated summerhouse didn’t look so bad after all
and I hoped that this would lessen whatever my mother had in store
for me.
A few minutes later, I heard my mother’s car
pull into the driveway. The front door opened and James came
through it.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked nervously.
“She’s coming,” he said and signaled toward
the driveway.
I stood there and waited, waited for whatever
sentence would be handed down to me. In that moment, I was able to
imagine what a supporter of the French Revolution felt like right
before their hooded head was shoved inside the mouth of the
guillotine. We had just learned about the barbaric executions in
our World History class. Unconsciously, I rubbed my neck. It felt
tense and sore.
Carrying her purse and dry cleaning, my
mother breezed inside and headed for the kitchen. “Hi, dear,” she
said as she passed me. “How was school?”
I shook my head to make sure I heard her
correctly. I think she said, “How was school?”
I walked toward the kitchen to clear up any
confusion. My mom ripped the plastic bags from her clothes and
threw them into the trash.
“School was good,” I answered, cautiously.
“How was it for you?”
She kept ripping. “It was good for me,
too.”
I leaned against the doorway, baffled. Why
wasn’t my mother screaming at me? She had to have found out by now
about what happened Saturday night. The policeman said that someone
from the school would be calling her, but I figured Mr. Woods would
have told her, in person, first thing Monday morning. And, if so,
why wasn’t she yelling and carrying on? Was she playing mind games
with me; wanting to see if I would confess to her first?
“It’s not safe to keep the plastic bags on
your dry cleaning. It keeps the harmful chemicals trapped on your
clothing,” she informed me.
Dry cleaning, chemicals. What was the catch?
Why was my mom so calm? I decided to go along with it. “I’ll keep
that in mind, Mom, whenever I get something dry-cleaned.”
She looked at me and smiled. “Good.”
I turned to leave. “By the way, Willow, I’m
making your favorite for dinner tonight, Chicken Parmesan.”
“Great. Can’t wait,” I said as I headed for
the stairs.
“Also, Brian’s joining us!” she shouted after
me.
There it was. The catch. I climbed the stairs
and rolled my eyes, wondering what other tricks my mom had waiting
up her dry-cleaned sleeve.
• • •
Brian and his giantness joined us for dinner.
I was so hungry at that point, I didn’t care who dined with us. I
couldn’t wait to eat the delicious chicken smothered in tomato
sauce and mozzarella cheese.
As soon as I was done eating, I cleared my
dishes and excused myself. Before I was able to flee from the
kitchen, Brian spoke. “Willow, why don’t you and I clean up and let
your mother relax for a little while. She put a lot of hard work
into making this delicious meal for us.”
I shrugged. “Okay,” even though I was
thinking about how much housework I had already done earlier in the
day. My mom did eventually notice that the house sparkled. I lied
and told her I was happy to do it.
All through dinner I had been tense,
wondering when my mom was going to confront me. A small part of me
felt that maybe she didn’t know yet what had happened. I couldn’t
imagine my mom playing it cool the whole time if she knew that I
had illegally broken into a school, especially hers.
“Thanks, you two,” my mom said before she
went into the family room to relax on the couch and read.
I cleared the table as Brian rinsed the
dishes.
“So, Willow. How’s it going over at Portland
High?”
“Good,” was all I said. I was in the kitchen
to clean, not to chat with Mr. Roberts.
As I placed more dishes down next to the
sink, Brian grabbed my wrist, bent down and whispered to me.
“Listen, Willow. Mr. Woods spoke to me this morning about your
little incident at the school on Saturday night.”
My big, blue eyes got even bigger.
He continued. “I told Mr. Woods that I would
tell your mother, but I haven’t yet. As you know, we’re going away
this weekend to meet my family in New Hampshire and I didn’t want
to upset her unnecessarily beforehand.”
My eyes darted around the room nervously
before I looked back at Brian. Slowly I responded, “Okay.”
“Your mother said she asked you if you wanted
to join us, but you said no because you have an important school
project to work on. You and James may have no choice but to come
with us if I don’t feel I can trust leaving you two home
alone.”
“No, you can. I promise. It was a stupid
mistake and I’ll never do it again. I promise. Please don’t tell
her. Ever,” I pleaded.
Brian freed me from his grasp and continued
rinsing. “I can’t guarantee you that, Willow, especially since this
is your second offense. If I feel the need to tell your mother the
whole truth, at any moment, I just may have to.”
I was confused at first, but then slowly
realized what Brian was really saying. He was going to hold this
over my head forever, like a threat, in order to keep me in
line.
I became indignant and pulled out a trump
card I didn’t think I’d have to use so soon. “Well, what if I tell
my mom about you and the lady I saw in the parking lot that same
night?” I couldn’t believe I said it, especially since I had wanted
to investigate and gather some evidence first.
Brian shook his head and acted all confused
and innocent. “What lady? What parking lot?”
I wasn’t about to buy his clueless act. “You
know what I’m talking about,” I sneered.
Brian glared at me. “I most certainly do not
and I do not appreciate your tone, young lady.”
I backed away from Brian. “I’m done in here,”
I scowled before I turned to leave.
With one giant step, Brian left the sink and
beat me to the doorway. He put his face directly in front of mine
and spoke softly but firmly. “Do not make me tell her, Willow,” he
warned, “because I will.”
I bravely stared back at Brian and wasn’t
going to show him one ounce of fear, while feeling completely
terrified on the inside. Forcing my fakest grin, I smiled up at him
before making my way through the spotless family room and straight
up the stairs to my room, in search of refuge through my own,
self-imposed exile.
• • •
I stayed in my room for the rest of the
night, claiming that I had too much homework and couldn’t join the
others for dessert. I really did have a ton of homework and was
intimidated enough by Brian to pass up chocolate cake with
chocolate frosting.
I heard the front door close and looked at my
clock. It was after eight. I heard Brian start his car and take
off. Not long afterward I heard someone climb the stairs and walk
toward my room.
There was a soft knock.
“Come in,” I said.
Slowly my mom opened the door. “Is everything
alright, Willow?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“I figured something had to be wrong for you
not to eat some cake.”
I shook my head. “I’m just tired.”
“Okay,” she said as she began to close my
door.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Was Brian ever the principal over at
Orchard?”
My mother looked at my curiously before she
answered. “Yes, he used to be a few years ago.”
“Why isn’t he anymore?”
“He gave up the position for personal
reasons.”
I felt I had the right to know why. “What
reasons?”
“Willow, I am not at liberty to discuss
Brian’s private career choices with you.”
I got defensive. “I just wanted to know and
think it’s a fair question.”
“Then you’ll have to ask Brian next time you
see him.”
I quickly shook my head. “No. Forget it. I
don’t want to know that badly.”
My mother shrugged her little shoulders.
“Fine. It’s up to you,” she said before she shut my door and
left.
I closed my Spanish textbook and grabbed my
laptop. I needed a break and wanted to check out MyWeb. Just then,
my phone rang. I quickly picked up without looking at the caller
ID.
“Hello?”
“Hey, there!”
I smiled. “Hi, Michael. How are you
feeling?”
“Pretty good, thanks. What are you up
to?”
“Just taking a break from studying. What
about you?”
“Working on a poem.”
“What’s it called?”
“It’s a secret.”
“That’s an odd name for a poem.” I
giggled.
“Good one,” Michael said enthusiastically.
“Be patient. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“When will that be?”
“When you come visit me this weekend.”
“
This
weekend?” I asked.
“Remember. You said your mom would let you
come and see me in Portland. I figure, the sooner, the better. I’d
come there, but I don’t want to have a set back.”
“Ugh! My mom’s going away for the weekend
with that guy and leaving me here with my brother.”
“Who’s ‘that guy’? You mean Brian?”
“Yeah, him.
“Give the poor guy a break, Willow. He’s good
to your mother, isn’t he?”
I slowly nodded. “I guess, but how much does
she really know about that guy?”
Michael cleared his throat loudly.
“I mean Brian.”
“I don’t know,” Michael offered, “but it must
be enough for her to feel it’s okay to marry him.”
I let out a deep sigh, a sigh I found myself
resorting to a lot lately whenever the subject of my mom and her
impending wedding came up. I needed to forget about the bride and
groom and switch gears for a moment.
“I suppose I could sneak away for a little,”
I thought and said aloud. I quickly thought better of it and
changed my mind. “Forget it. I can’t leave James home alone.
Remember what happened the last time I came to see you?”
Michael chuckled. “Did he end up calling
911?”
“No, thank God, but the house reeked of burnt
popcorn for weeks!”
Michael and I both laughed. I wasn’t about to
tell him about the incident at the elementary school and the fact
that I couldn’t risk screwing up anymore. Not over the phone
anyway.
“Bring him then.”
“What? Bring my brother to see you on the
mainland?”
“Sure! Why not? We can all go out to lunch.
There’s a great sandwich shop down the street, not too far from the
pier.”
“You sure?” I asked, full of doubt.
“Of course. I wouldn’t even care if your mom
and ‘that guy’ tagged along as long as I can see you.”
I gave in. “Okay, but I gotta convince my
pain-in-the-neck brother first.”
“Doesn’t he play Zombie Hunt?”
“Yeah, why?”
“’Cause the newest version goes on sale this
Friday. Tell him you want to come to Portland on Saturday and
you’ll get it for him.”
I nodded. “That just might work. How’d you
know how to entice him?”
“I have a little brother, too, don’t forget,
and I’ve been known to slay a zombie or two in my youth.”
“In your youth?” I asked playfully. “And when
was that?”
“About eleven o’clock last night.”