The Miles Between (19 page)

Aidan snorts. “That's craz”—he catches himself. “I mean—”

“Of course it's a crazy way to think, Aidan,” I say. “But sometimes the way life plays out is crazy too. At the very least, it defies explanation. Maybe one insanity balances out the other.”

Aidan nods.

“Why were your parents going somewhere without you in the first place?” Mira asks.

“They had to. My baby brother, Gavin, was born with a hole in his heart. I didn't really understand back then. My parents tried to explain it, but he looked healthy to me. I remember his tiny perfect fingers. But when he cried, he'd lose his breath, and I remember my mother doing anything to keep him happy. There was a special doctor they wanted to see, but he was very busy. He was booked for months.”

“Except for your birthday,” Mira says, holding her cheeks like she is astonished all over again.

“That's right. My birthday and my mother's. And that's where the other things went wrong. It was the wrong day, by all accounts.” I explain about the appointment changes, flight changes, and that my parents weren't even supposed to be at that airport in the first place. My father had planned to fly his own plane, but Gavin's appointment was more important than convenience or birthdays. It was all so last-minute. Mr. Gardian relayed some of this information to me over the years; some I knew because I was there, but other bits came from therapists and counselors who unwittingly helped me piece together a warped logic of numbers and timing. And of course the worst timing of all happened right before my eyes.

“Another plane that was coming in lost an engine,” I explain and then correct myself. “No, it didn't just lose it—it was a catastrophic failure. The engine exploded, and they were so close to landing, the pilot didn't have a chance to veer away. He flew straight into my parents' plane. Esme, my babysitter, pulled me away from the window, but it was too late. I saw everything. What are the chances? The day that brought my mother took her away again, and everything that could go wrong, did. Maybe it is the Law of Truly Large Numbers. But when it happens to you, it doesn't feel like a statistic.”

Seth sighs. “And now today. Escrow closing on the same day as they died.”

“That part wasn't a coincidence. That was my doing. Mr. Gardian has wanted to sell the house for years, but he always deferred to me, and I always said no. I know everyone thought he was crazy for listening to a child, but he did. One time a Realtor even contacted me directly. Mr. Gardian was furious. I guess he thought that so much had been taken away from me, he wanted to give me some power back. He loved my parents. I never really stopped to think about how much he had lost too. A few months ago, he asked me about the house again. He told me it wasn't wise to leave it standing empty. He said someone
should be living in it. A family. I finally agreed. On one condition—”

“That the sale was final on October 19,” Aidan finishes.

“I thought that maybe—” I look away.

“The numbers again,” Seth says.

I nod. “I still”—I look at my open palms in my lap—“I still hoped there was a key. Something I had missed. A way to turn back time, maybe. If everything added up just right, the way everything had added up just wrong that day . . .” I look away from my hands into the rafters of the barn. “I know it's not possible.
I know
. But sometimes the world makes no sense anyway.”

“It's unfair.”

“It stinks.”

“Sometimes you—”

“Yes,” I whisper.

Seth exhales a puffy breath of air. “You still worry, don't you? About today. That it will take you like it did your mother.”

I am caught off guard by his bluntness. I've never spoken it aloud, fearing that saying it might make it true, but he's right. “I used to be terrified,” I finally admit. “In fact I hardly breathed on my birthdays, so Mr. Gardian let all my teachers and counselors know that my birthday was
not to be mentioned or celebrated because it would send me into such a downward spiral.”

I smile, realizing how far I have come. “Last year Mr. Gardian actually tested the waters and sent me a birthday card, and it didn't send me into a complete catatonic state. I suppose that's another sign of acceptance or getting better. Maybe I've just finally accepted that I don't know why things happen the way they do. Sometimes it seems there's pattern and purpose, and other times it's all sheer chaos, and I suppose the day I die could fall into either category.” I lean back and cross my legs. “But whatever it is, chaos or design, it's the only game in town, right? It's not like we have a choice. Take the mixed bag or take nothing at all. And I'm tired of taking nothing at all.”

“It's a lot like a bowl of mixed nuts, don't you think?” Mira says. “I hate the cashews, but I eat them to be polite. It would be wrong to pick through and just take the best nuts.”

Best nuts?
We stare silently at Mira. She blushes.

“I'm sorry. That's a terrible analogy. It's not like you could choose the, well, you know, everything.” She looks down at her lap.

Seth laughs and throws a handful of hay at Mira. “It's as good an analogy as any, Mira. And I think a nuts analogy is especially apropos for Des.”

Mira's face shoots up, her eyes wide. Aidan follows suit, staring at Seth, his mouth open, speechless. I look at Seth too, his eyes just the opposite of theirs, narrowing slightly. Smooth. Like a grin. Pushing me. Like I am a normal person.

The silence and tension grow to comical proportions, and I finally grab two handfuls of hay and throw them at Seth, shattering the strained silence. Laughter sputters from my throat, and Mira joins me, laughing and throwing hay too, and soon we are all laughing, hay in our laps, hay in our hair, hay raining down handful after handful. We hold our stomachs, gulping for breath, laughing beyond reason, laughing at the absurdities of ourselves and life.

And then Seth nudges my foot with his, like a private nod from him to me, a small action the others don't notice, and for a moment I feel intoxicated, connected and belonging to this world like I have never felt before.

Our laughter quiets. Mira wipes her eyes. Aidan blows his nose.

And I do something bold, something I've never done. I nudge Seth's foot back and mouth,
Thank you
. His eyes crease slightly and his head barely moves, the smallest up-and-down motion.

“This was the best day ever,” Mira says, wiggling her red platform pumps in front of her. “Seth got his dog, Aidan talked to the president, and Des finally got to say good-bye, but I think right now is the best part of the whole day.” Mira's face is a picture of contentment. We are nestled together on a bed of hay, a tight circle, where secrets and distance have been patted away, no wrinkles for Mira to worry over, no innuendo, no harsh voices or tense glances to be averted. Just the moment and her flashy platform pumps wiggling like everything is right with the world.

And maybe for this one moment, it is.

 

 

 

I
T IS TIME TO RETURN
to Hedgebrook. No one has yet stated the obvious.

We are doomed. At least I am.

It has been the fair day I wished for, but the day is not over. If the snipped ponytail wasn't enough, the appropriated car and corrupting of three formerly model students will certainly have me shipped off by morning, this time quite possibly to a place with striped uniforms. And the irony is, now for once, I desperately want to stay. I have a reason to stay. But I know a day like today can't last forever. Even I am not that delusional.

I hold Lucky while Aidan and Seth pull up the leather top of the car. Mira supervises, pointing out the levers to secure it.

“There!” Seth says, pushing down the last clamp. “That
should make it a little warmer.” We are all shivering now. Late October is no time to be outside at night and coatless.

“Our jackets!” Mira says. “Let's get them out of the trunk.”

Hedgebrook and our jackets seem a lifetime away. I had forgotten them, but the boring navy blazers are welcome now. We huddle near the trunk while Seth opens it. A small bulb illuminates the inside and Seth pulls out the bag from Babs's store that holds our clothes and dispenses the jackets. We eagerly put them on. He points to the back of the trunk at a large cardboard box. “I wonder what's in it? I saw it this morning, but that was when I thought this was your car.”

“Maybe there's food? Cookies or something,” Aidan says hopefully.

“Should we peek?” Mira asks.

“Stealing a few cookies won't add much to our problems at this point,” Seth says. He reaches in and slides it toward us. The top flaps are interlocked, and when Seth pulls on one, they all pop up. He peers in and lifts some tissue. “No cookies. Not even close.”

Mira nudges him aside and looks in too. “Dolls?” She reaches in and pulls one out.

My heart jumps. I recognize the flowing green gown. A
Scarlett O'Hara Madame Alexander doll. I thrust Lucky into Aidan's arms and step past him to look inside. I pull the dolls out, one after the other. Little Red Riding Hood! Cissy in her aqua gown! Lady of Spain! All of them. All the dolls that were missing from my shelf. “These are mine!”

“What?” Seth asks.

“These are my dolls! My collection! The ones that were missing from my shelf!”

“That's impossible,” Aidan says.

I spot a folded piece of paper in the box and pull it out. I open it and hold it close to the glowing trunk bulb. I read it aloud.

“I thought you would want to keep these. They shouldn't take up much room at Hedgebrook.—EF.”

I shake my head. I still don't understand. “How—”

“The glove box!” Seth shouts. “Check the glove box!” But he is already racing to it himself. He shuffles through it, money and paper falling to the floor of the car, until he finally emerges with a white envelope smaller than his palm. He hands it to me. The dim barn light is enough for me to read the neatly printed letters on the front.

Destiny.

My fingers shake as I pull out a pink card. The front has a tiny glittered white birthday cake on it. I open it.

I read it aloud to the others.

“Happy Birthday, Destiny. I think it's time for you to celebrate. These wheels come with an instructor and lessons. I've included some cash for fuel. I hope you like it. And I hope you still like pink. Love, Mr. Farrell.”

“It's for your birthday,” Seth says, like he has unraveled a great mystery.

I look up at him. I can't think. He grabs my shoulders and says again, this time very slowly, “He gave you this car for your birthday, Destiny. It was yours all along.”

“That's right!” Aidan says. “Back at the house, Mr. Farrell said he had sent a little something for her to Hedgebrook.”

“I'll say it's a little something!” Mira chimes in. “A big little something!” She and Aidan climb into the back seat with a seemingly newfound appreciation for the car now that it's mine. Mira runs her hand over the chrome door handles.

“It's my car,” I say, still stunned. I open my door and get in. I slide my hand across the leather seat. It is not the extravagance of the car that stuns me. It is the thought put into its choice. The color, the model, all different and
quirky like me. Mr. Gardian used great care in selecting it and also in its delivery. I am still retracing the steps I took when I stumbled upon it this morning. The messenger who brought it must have stepped away for just a brief moment, perhaps looking for directions. It was supposed to be a surprise. A gift from Mr. Gardian. I've had years of kindness and patience from him, kindness I could never fully accept, turning away compliments and encouragement, keeping him at a distance as I did everyone else, but he never wavered in his duty to care for me or failed to pay attention to the subtle cues of my likes and dislikes. Mother and Father chose well. My car. I finger the hole that Lucky chewed in the middle of the seat, and Seth winces.

“It's fine,” I say. “Just as it is.”

“We could all chip in—”

“Seth, I am probably the wealthiest orphan in the country—at least I will be when I turn twenty-one. If I wanted to fix it a hundred times over, I could. Maybe one day I will. But for now I'll think of it as a souvenir of this day.”

“I knew you had to be loaded,” Aidan says. “I just didn't know
how
loaded.”

“But there's one thing I still don't get,” Mira says,
leaning over the back of my seat. “Why didn't you go live with your aunt Edie instead of Mr. Farrell? She
is
a blood relative, after all.”

My stomach twists. Aunt Edie was the one detail I avoided. I look at Seth and then back to Mira. How much can one person be expected to give up in one day? My perfect aunt. The one who talked for me when I couldn't. The one who wanted me. The one Mr. Gardian tolerated because he knew I needed her. I feel my lips part, but I can't force any words between them.

“It's all right.” Mira plops back in her seat. “You don't have to tell. You've shared enough secrets today.”

“There is no Aunt Edie,” I blurt out. “There never was.”

Seth watches me carefully. I am ashamed that I still held back. The car fills with awkward silence.

“What about this morning?” Aidan finally asks. “The note that said she couldn't come.”

“That was from me. I called the front office and left the message. I've always covered for Aunt Edie, to explain her absences.”

“But you just said there is no Aunt Edie. How can you cover for someone who doesn't exist?”

I turn fully around in my seat to look at Aidan. “Listen, Aidan. For
me
she did exist. She was exactly the kind of
aunt I needed—one who could never be taken away from me. She was someone I wasn't afraid to love.”