Echoes Between Us - McGarry, Katie Page 0,20
know what to say or how to say it. I shove my hands in my pockets because that’s wrong. There’s a lot to say, I just don’t like saying it. “I’m sorry about what you overheard between me and my friends. It wasn’t right and—”
“Thank you for the apology.” Veronica cuts me off, and that brings me up short. As I helped my mom, I had come up with a plan, with a speech, and one part led to another part that was going to end with me somehow convincing Veronica to give us a few days until she cashed our deposit check, but she blew that plan to pieces.
Veronica continues to watch me. She’s waiting for me to gather my sister and go, and that’s exactly what I want to do, but I need to try and make life easier for my mom.
“I really do appreciate your help with Lucy, and I hate to do this, but I was wondering if it was possible for you to take a few days to cash the—”
“Just so I know how to handle this situation, does your mom have a problem with alcohol?”
“No.” My answer is immediate, and Veronica tilts her head as if she doesn’t believe me.
“Really? Because your sister said she gets sick on the weekends. I’m assuming ‘sick’”—she uses quotation marks with her fingers—“is a loose term for the drunk I saw earlier.”
“She has a few drinks with friends on the weekends. Sometimes they go out and have a few too many, but she never touches anything during the week.” Why I feel the need to defend Mom, I don’t know, especially when I’m pissed that I currently smell like vomit.
“Your mother’s check bounced,” Veronica says in an even voice.
My eyes briefly shut. Damn. “Does your dad know?”
“Not yet.”
Can this girl give me anything or is she going to make me beg for everything? “We’ll have the funds on the fifteenth.” A week from now and that feels like a lifetime away. My brain races—I have a job as a lifeguard, but that’s barely minimum wage and we haven’t gone grocery shopping yet and Lucy needs school supplies and I’ll start swimming again tomorrow and that means fees for the Y, for my coach, for the school league, for my outside swim league, for …
Her deadpan expression is one of the most paralyzing things I’ve come across, and I’m the guy who does death-defying feats.
“Do you have a car?” she asks, and I’m stunned as I try to understand why she’d ask that.
“Yes.”
“Your sister is welcome in my part of the house whenever I’m home.” It’s unspoken that I’m not. “You have until next Friday to give me another check that won’t bounce. You’ll need to add forty dollars to cover the fees we incurred. If that check bounces, then I’ll have no choice but to tell my dad. Not just about the check, but about what I saw here tonight.”
She’s dismissing me, but I’m stuck in place. “Please don’t tell anyone about my mom.” My tongue feels thick. “About the check or what you saw tonight. I get that you might have to tell your dad, but you won’t as I’ll get you the money. But if people find out … that would embarrass her.” And me.
“I’m not the type who gossips. There’s enough people in our town who like to say mean things so I figure no one needs my help in that department.”
I wince. Message received loud and clear. She hates me. It’s okay. I hate me, too.
“Thanks,” I say again. “For Lucy.” I walk over to the couch and gather my little sister in my arms.
“I’m curious,” Veronica says, “about the diary you had at the TB hospital. Where did you find it?”
In my arms, Lucy’s a hot, sweaty mess, yet snuggles closer to me. “I found it on the window seat of the front bedroom.” This entire time I’ve been trying to break through Veronica’s wall, and it’s with that answer that there’s a flicker of emotion other than hate. “I assumed it was from the last tenant. Is it yours? Do you want it back?”
Veronica looks over at the empty window seat of her living room and then back at me. “Are you reading it?”
When she says it like that, reading it seems wrong. Like I shouldn’t be prying into someone’s words—dead or alive.
“It’s okay if you have. It’s what it’s there for.”
I nod.
“Then keep it. For now at least. You can give