The Summer the World Ended (7 page)

he sun forced its way through the heavy curtains over Mom’s bedroom window. Riley lay at the center of the queen-sized bed, curled up like a cat who lost her human. Blue flannel pajamas―selected because they lacked smiling bears―stopped an inch above her ankles, leaving her feet cold. She had hated spending three nights at the shelter, the whole time wanting to be in her own room again. After only an hour of staring at a square of moonlight on her bedroom ceiling, she migrated here. Mom’s presence lingered in the air. The bedspread still smelled of perfume and shampoo. Mother always showered at night―there was never enough time in the morning.

She looked from the limp hand a few inches in front of her face to the flaking blue glitter-infused polish on her toenails.
Mom was still alive when I painted them.
The door creaked open as her father walked in, trailed by the fragrance of coffee―coffee Mom bought.

He scuffed up to the edge of the mattress. “Are you hungry?”

“Mmm.”

“We could hit Denny’s or something.”

Mom has food downstairs.
“Mmf.”

“I’m sorry… we need to figure out what we’re keeping and what we can’t take with us.”

“Mmm.” She hugged her knees to her chest, curling her toes.

“About a week. Maybe two. There’s a lawyer coming by soon to help with everything.”

Riley grunted.

“I know you want to stay here, but it’s just not possible.”

She sniffled.

Dad sat on the edge of the mattress. “I miss her too.”

No, you don’t. You’re just saying that.
She stared at her feet, daydreaming about the trip to the mall with her Mom and Amber. Some little Chinese woman sold the nail polish from a fake pushcart. Mom had a cheeseburger at Friday’s afterward, and gave the waiter a hard time over not getting sweet potato fries like she’d asked for.

“Mmm.”

“I was going to sell this bed since I don’t have room for it, but I suppose we can keep it in storage so you can go visit it.”

We’re going to New Mexico. I won’t be able to visit Mom.
She sniffled again and wiped her nose.

He sipped his coffee. “You know the Sentra is paid off. You can get a permit at fifteen. We could keep it.”

Riley sat up, twisting to face him. “Really? I thought you wanted to sell everything and forget her.”

“I couldn’t forget her if I wanted to.” He offered a weak smile, as if discussing something as blasé as his favorite sandwich. “It’s just a matter of practicality. I’ve only got so much room and… keeping the car, I’m going to have to pay someone to ship it.”

“I wanna keep it ‘cause it was hers.” She scooted to the edge and let her legs hang. “I could get a summer job or something to help. Mom wanted me to get a job this year anyway.”

“I think you should take the summer to come to terms with things. I know I haven’t been part of your life for a long time, but this is a lot for a kid your age to handle.”

“Why did you leave?” She frowned at the carpet.
Mom liked powder blue.

Dad sucked in a breath and stiffened. “Sometimes things just happen and… I had a job that was taking up all my time and we got to arguing and―”

“I don’t remember you guys fighting.”

He stood. “Well, we didn’t want you to see it. I, uh… Look, Riley, it’s complicated. It wasn’t about you.”

She slid her feet back and forth on the rug to warm them. “You’re full of shit.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. My job…” He spun in place. On the second rotation, he waved his arm at the bureau. “Whenever you feel up to it, go through the room here and pack up Mom’s jewelry and whatever of her clothes you want to keep.”

Riley folded her arms and scowled as he rushed out. He was taking her away from everything she knew, and he couldn’t even tell her the truth about why he left.
What’s he hiding? Doesn’t he trust me?

Soft thuds from downstairs filtered through the quiet as Dad fussed around. It sounded like he paced back and forth across the entire house. Riley didn’t feel like moving. She didn’t want to pack, didn’t want to play Xbox, didn’t want to go outside, watch TV, eat, or do much of anything except be with Mom.

Silence was nice.

The phone rang, startling a shriek out of her. She stared at the cordless handset on the nightstand, unable to remember the last time anyone bothered calling the landline. On ring three, she got to her feet and crept over. Dad evidently wasn’t planning to answer it.
Why would he? He doesn’t live here anymore.

Riley plucked the little Motorola out of the charging cradle and stared at the screen.
Unavailable
showed in the caller ID box. A robotic arm raised the device to her ear by ring six, and she flicked the talk button.

“Hello?” she rasped.

“Lily?” barked a male voice at the edge of shouting.

“I-it’s Riley.”

“Oh.” The condescending hostility faded―a little. “Put your mother on the phone, please. I haven’t heard from her in days. Her report on the auto loan section is late.”

Pritchett. Mom’s boss. Now she recognized the voice.

“She’s dead, you fat, bald cocksucker!” Tears poured out of her eyes, though her face burned red with rage. “You worked her to death. Are you happy now? Screw your stupid loan reports and screw your stupid bank!”

“Young lady, that’s not funny.”

“Tighten your tie a little more. Maybe your head will explode too!”

Dad ran in as she reared her arm back to hurl the phone at the window. He caught her hand, pulling her into a hug as he pried the phone out of her white-knuckled grip. She wasn’t done being angry with him for lying to her, but found herself bawling onto his shoulder anyway.

“Hello? Whoever you are, you better have one damn good reason for making my daughter upset,” said Dad.

A murmur emanated from the phone.

“Yes, that’s right. Christopher McCullough. No, we never officially divorced. I’m afraid Riley is correct. Lily passed away a few days ago.”

More angry rumbling came from the phone.

“I don’t give a sewer rat’s swollen scrotum about your report. No, I don’t have her password. Ask one of her assistants.”

Dad let off a heavy sigh and set the phone in the cradle. “Asshole. Uh… you didn’t hear me say that.”

“He killed her.” Riley sniveled. “This… it really happened.”

He wrapped both arms around her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It did, but I won’t leave you again. It was a mistake I can never take back.”

“Tell me why.” She lifted her face from his shirt and stared into his eyes.

“I was a coward.”

She glared at him. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“I do.” He pulled her closer with a hand on the back of her head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Four days later, stacks of boxes gathered in the living room. The gradual disassembly of Riley’s life took place before her eyes, and she could do nothing to stop it. One day spent refusing to leave Mom’s bed had made Dad do all the work. He didn’t complain, but he didn’t stop. One day spent crying, pleading, and promising this, that, and the other thing also hadn’t changed his mind. Today, she’d begrudgingly accepted that the place in which she’d grown up would be home no longer.

Packing happened in fits and starts. As soon as she’d get into a groove, she’d find something special and wind up crying for an hour instead of filling boxes. She’d already put on two of Mom’s wooden bracelets and her huge, knit sweater over the camouflage tee shirt and shorts she’d plucked off her floor. While going through the kitchen shelves, she stumbled on Mom’s recipe book and its hundred post-it notes of modifications. She lifted it as carefully as if it were a handwritten Bible from the Middle Ages, clutched it to her chest, and sank into a ball on the floor under the table. A few seconds after she burst out in sobs, Dad came running in.

He skidded to a halt by the fridge, raising an eyebrow at her hugging the overstuffed tome as if he couldn’t comprehend how she’d gotten so worked up over a wad of paper. Riley didn’t look at him, lost in a swimming mess of memories. Mom teaching nine-year-old Riley how to make the filling for stuffed mushrooms. Baking cookies for Christmas, even though there was no family but the two of them. The first gingerbread house she tried to make looked like the Big Bad Wolf had his way with it, but Mom thought it was perfect.

“You okay, Squirrel?” Dad crouched at the edge of the table, one hand grasping the edge over his head.

Riley shook her head. “No. Mom’s dead.”

He offered a hand, but she ignored him. Where was he when Mom needed help? She wouldn’t have had to work that awful job if he’d stayed. Who was this stranger in her house, taking her world and turning it upside down?

“C’mere, Squirrel.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not six anymore.”

Dad let his arm fall and offered an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard, it’s not easy for me either.”

She huddled over the book as if he wanted to snatch it away too. “You don’t look upset.”

“Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve.” A wistful smile crossed his face for a few seconds. “Lily always gave me a hard time about that. She could never tell what I was thinking.”

“Why do we have to move?” Riley sniffled. “Can’t you move in here? Why do
I
have to be the one to move? I wanna stay close so I can visit Mom’s grave on her birthday and Christmas and such.”
Every so often on a random Wednesday.

He grunted and stood, moving to sit in one of the nearby chairs. “If it was even remotely possible, I would. I don’t know what it is about this damn state. The property taxes on this place are more than my mortgage. I couldn’t afford to keep it even if I didn’t have a house payment of my own.”

Riley got control of her tears and crawled out from under the table. She kept the book in her lap as she sat across from him. “I can get a summer job.”

He smiled. “If only.”

“What… I can.” She glared.

“No, I believe you. You wouldn’t make enough money. They pay kids only enough to go to the movies… or whatever it is kids do these days. You can’t live here alone, and I can’t afford to stay. I’m sorry we have to sell the place.” He paced to the sink, peering out the window into the backyard. “I still remember when your mother and I first walked through the open house here.”

Riley sniffled.

“Old couple owned it, the Stantons. Nice people. They were moving to Florida and priced it to go quick. Lily fell in love with it right away. I can’t believe she already paid it off. She really was a whiz with money.”

“If it’s paid off, why can’t you afford it?” Riley’s gaze settled on the recipes; the book had more life in it than her voice.

“Taxes, hon. The state charges people money to have land.”

“That’s stupid.”

Dad shrugged. “Well, the politicians need their limos and filet mignons. I’ll make sure every dollar we get for the place goes into an account for you. I won’t take a dime. I know I left and I don’t deserve any of it. Mom would want you to have it.”

“I don’t want money. I want my home back. I want Mom back.”

“I know, Riley… I do too.”

What?
She looked up, lip quivering. “D-does that mean you don’t really want me?”

“I meant I wish your mother was still alive.”

“So you didn’t get stuck with me?”

He reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. “You have every right to be angry with me for leaving, but if you believe anything, please believe I have never stopped loving you. I would do anything to protect you.”

She put her free hand over his. “Anything except let me stay here.”

“I’d have to rob a bank. If that’s what you want.”

Wow… is he joking? That sounded so serious.
“Uhm… Dad?”

“Of course, then I’ll be in jail and you’ll be in social services.” He winked. “Doesn’t seem like a great plan.”

Whew.
“For a sec there I thought you were serious.”

“I am.” He smiled. “If I thought it would work.”

She wobbled to her feet, refusing to unwrap her arms from the book. “Stop messing with me.”

“They don’t keep that much money in cash in bank branches anymore.” He rubbed his chin. “Mom might have some access codes I could get into the system with, transfer a dozen accounts to one offshore.”