through too many states. The world flat and devoid of life: miles upon miles of nothing but dust. The occasional stop at McDonald’s to eat and pee, a gas station to refill, a cheap motel to sleep. My mind as blank and empty as the roads. As numb as SN feels playing Xbox.
We barely talked, my dad and I, on the trip. He might have tried, I don’t know. Only once did Rachel come up, over lunch at an Arby’s, as if he were answering a question I hadn’t even asked.
“Rachel’s an extraordinary woman. You’ll see. Don’t worry, you’ll see,” he said, though I hadn’t said I was worried. I hadn’t said anything at all.
“Apparently, Scarlett’s mom said she was concerned about you. And frankly, so am I,” Rachel says now. “Go. Enjoy. And then come back to us refreshed. Your dad has…well, he saved my life. He’s totally real and normal and understands what I’ve been through, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that. We’re so different, but together we’re stronger. Whole. But I don’t want you to think that I don’t realize that this—all of this—has come at a cost to you.”
She’s matter-of-fact. Her voice a normal decibel for once.
“Everyone in this house understands how hard it can be to start over,” she says.
I look at my ticket. I leave Friday morning, get back Sunday night.
“What about school?”
“Theo will email you notes and stuff, and we’ll let your teachers know it’s an excused absence. You deserve this.” Rachel pats the bed next to her, invites me to sit. I’ve been pacing, I realize now, midstep, on my second lap around the room.
I sit, stare at the ticket. Coffee with SN/Caleb on Thursday, his mask unveiled, I hope, and then I’m off. I’ll miss my weekly “Waste Land” meeting with Ethan, but he’ll understand. Scarlett and I will watch bad television and pop microwave popcorn and eat real pizza, not this whole-wheat-crust crap they have in California. I will talk and she will listen, and there will be no need to explain everything or have anything explained; we’ve known each other too long for all of that. I even want to drink that green tea her mom always brews, the one I used to think tasted like pee but that now makes me think of home.
“Thank you,” I say, and force myself to look Rachel in the eye. My dad didn’t do this, I realize. Big gestures are not his style, or at least, they weren’t before he married Rachel. And a plane ticket was never something that could be so casually purchased. “I…”
My eyes water, and I stare straight ahead to get the tears under control. Not here, not now. The tears only seem to come when they are least wanted, almost never in the quiet depths of night, when the emptiness is so real, it feels like a phantom limb. When tears would actually feel something like relief.
“No problem,” Rachel says, and stands up. “But just so you know, there is one condition.”
I wait for it. What could she possibly want from me? Rent money? For me to make up with my dad?
“You have to come back.”
Me: OMG! OMG! OMG! 2 sleeps!
Scarlett: Woot! Woot!
Me: What did you tell your parents? Obvi they freaked.
Scarlett: They were talking about turning the basement into a gym. I said maybe they should wait to see if you were moving back, and they were all like: WHA?
Me: Whatever. I’m coming home! I’m coming home!
Scarlett: Cannot wait. BTW, you don’t mind if we hang with Adam while you’re here, do you? I had plans with him on Saturday, and…
Me: Um, sure. Yeah, course.
Scarlett: Maybe I should host a welcome home party.
Me: You know I’m not much of a party person.
Scarlett: Not a party-party. More like a get-together.
Me: SQUEE. I’m coming home!
Me: Guess what?
SN: chicken butt.
Me: ?
SN: sorry. what?
Me: I’M GOING HOME. For only three days, but still.
SN: !!!! so happy for you. but?
Me: But what?
SN: YOU ARE COMING BACK, RIGHT?
Me:
SN: smiley faces are cryptic. say: “I am coming back.”
Me: I am coming back. FWIW, I’m not sure why you care so much. It’s not like we couldn’t IM from Chicago.
SN: not the same. and I like seeing you every day.
Me: You see me every day?
SN: you give good face, ms. holmes.
Me: Hey. Need to reschedule Friday. Going home for the weekend.
Ethan: “Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden / Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not