Hidden Worlds

by Kristie Cook

  My mother’s music danced through my head. When I was a very little girl, she would let me choose the music she’d play. I always loved the fast tunes like “Drowsy Maggie.” I would watch her bite her bottom lip in concentration as she moved through each piece. She withdrew completely when I was around seven years old, though, and I missed turning the sheet music for her and dancing along to the reels.

  I opened my eyes, and lights sparkled across my vision. I looked down, letting my eyes adjust. Once I could see normally I stood, figuring I should probably do a load of laundry before Gram had a chance to do it for me. But to my left, I saw a twinkling silver light. I turned to walk up the stairs, and sure enough, the same light caught my eye, even when I faced the house.

  I remembered Gram would sometimes hang aluminum pie plates near her vegetable garden to keep the birds away. I must have not been paying attention when I walked past her gardens—surely she had put some out.

  The rumbling of an engine announced Jeff’s arrival next door and jerked me away from my thoughts. I looked over to see Nicole bouncing down the driveway. She glanced over at me, her face all lit up.

  “There you are! I’ve been texting you all morning.” She signaled to Jeff that she’d be just a minute and made her way over to me.

  I sighed, knowing what was going to happen before she was even in front of me. Once again, I had no believable excuses.

  “I’m going to a cookout at Jeff’s parents’ house. Wanna come?” No matter how many times I’d turned down her invitations in the past, she never lost hope that I would one day be happy to tag along with her and her friends.

  “I have laundry to do, Nic,” I mumbled as I walked into the house, wincing when I heard her follow behind me. She would never give up so easily.

  “And, it will be here tomorrow, won’t it?”

  My mother was still playing her violin in the den. Her talent never faded, no matter how ill she became. As I walked past, I could see Gram coming in through the sliding door. She was wearing her gardening hat and gloves, the knees of her pants caked with soil.

  “Hello, girls.” Gram smiled at us as she pulled the gloves off, wiping her brow.

  “Hey, Gram,” Nicole said, grinning. “Aunt Beth is doing okay, isn’t she?”

  Gram looked between the two of us, a knowing smile forming on her face. She licked her lips and laughed.

  “Aunt Beth is just fine, why do you ask?”

  I widened my eyes at Gram. She usually helped me fend off Nicole’s endless invitations.

  “Great, so you can come, Al!”

  “Are you sure I’m even invited?” I knew I was just putting off the inevitable. But I had to put up a little bit of a fight. I couldn’t let Nicole get complacent.

  She glanced at me and frowned. “I just invited you.”

  I breathed deeply. “If I come, will you leave me alone for the rest of the week?”

  Her dismissive expression made me laugh. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go. This will be so much fun,” she said, sounding much more excited than I felt.

  I made a “how could you?” face at Gram and followed after my cousin. I would never let Nicole know, but the idea of being surrounded by mindless conversation might actually be the only way I could make it through this day.

  ***

  The Magliaro family never had small get-togethers. They were a huge Italian family with plenty of relatives and friends constantly stopping by unannounced. A cookout there meant three times as many people around as there usually were. Luckily, their house was enormous.

  It stood a mile back from the road, and I sat in the back of Jeff’s Jeep, bumping and bouncing all the way up the long, snaking driveway. Half a dozen cars were already there when we arrived. Jeff pulled right onto the front lawn and secured the parking brake.

  I followed them into the house, smiling at relatives I’d met before, even if I couldn’t remember their names. The air was thick with the smell of spicy Italian cooking. Two booming male voices were having a friendly argument about which Patriots tight end should be starting in the fall, and little kids were running around, darting under our feet.

  “Eli, what did I tell you about running inside Auntie Joanne’s house?” Jeff mock-scolded a dark-haired boy as he ran by. The boy grinned up at him, showing several missing teeth, and scooted out the front door.

  In the kitchen, Joanne was putting chips into bowls and chatting with an older woman. The second she saw me and Nicole, her eyes lit up, and she excused herself before rushing for us.

  “Hello, girls! So glad to see you,” she said before turning to Jeff. “Did you offer them anything to drink Jeff?”

  “Uh, not yet, Ma. We just got here.”

  Joanne made shooing motions to her son, and he threw up his arms before going off in search of drinks.

  She leveled me with her eyes. “How’s your mom, honey?”

  “You know . . . same old.” I put on my best polite smile.

  Joanne nodded, her face showing that she saw right through me. “Well, I’m sorry I haven’t stopped by in a few days. I’ll come by soon, I promise.”

  I nodded. I knew she would.

  She gave my arm a gentle pat and then excused herself as Jeff came back with two bottles of water. I took one from him and caught sight of Ethan across the family room. My smile faltered a bit—he was leaning against the back of the sofa, whispering into the ear of a redhead who looked vaguely familiar.

  Nicole cleared her throat. “Whatcha looking at, Al?”

  I scowled at her as my cheeks heated up. “I’m not looking at anything,” I said, looking down at my flip flops.

  I snuck a peek back at Ethan, who was laughing and standing inappropriately close to the girl. Then I remembered: she went to high school with us.

  “Hey, man.” Sean came up, clapping his hand on Jeff’s shoulder. Behind him, Rachel stood watching Ethan talk to the redhead, too.

  “Hey. We still on for some Home Run Derby?” Jeff asked, curling his arm around Nicole’s waist.

  I glanced back at Ethan. Lisa, that was her name.

  Sean grinned. “Of course I am. Let’s do this!”

  “Hey, Ethan,” Jeff hollered across the room. “Get your hands out of Lisa’s pants, and let’s go play ball!”

  Nicole smacked him and Joanne shot him a look, but Jeff and Sean just cracked up. They weren’t the least bit sorry.

  Ethan separated himself from Lisa and walked over to where we all stood, his smile wicked. Sean punched him in the shoulder.

  “What? We were just catching up.” Ethan’s teeth gleamed against his deep tan as he laughed. I stared back down at my feet again, wishing I were home doing laundry.

  “Hey, Al.” Ethan said, turning his grin on me. I attempted to make my face completely unreadable.

  Dammit. Why did I always have to react to him?

  “Hey,” I said, trying for indifference but only achieving awkwardness.

  “Come on, come on.” Jeff let go of Nicole and nudged Ethan toward the back door.

  ***

  While the guys were playing ball I sat on the deck with Nicole, Rachel, and a few of their other friends, and listened to them talk about who was dating whom and who was pregnant with whose kid. I recognized the tone of Rachel’s voice every time she spoke. The same one she’d used when she’d called me no-man’s land and decided I was a lesbian.

  This was the kind of the thing I avoided. Playing Home Run Derby sounded way better than listening to gossip from Nic’s snooty friends. I stood, kicked off my flip flops and headed off the deck, ignoring Nicole calling my name.

  Ethan stood with a wiffle ball in his hands, his expression intrigued. “You playing?”

  I glanced back at the girls on the deck watching me and shrugged. “Count me in.”

  Sean jogged over with the bat and held it out for me, grinning. He knew I’d played softball and run track all through high school to pad my transcripts. And I was no slouch at either sport. “Pick your pitcher, Allie-
O.”

  The smirk on Ethan’s face was a challenge, and I couldn’t resist. “Ethan has the ball. He can pitch to me.”

  “I hope you haven’t gotten rusty,” Ethan said. He made a big show of stretching and winding up before he finally tossed the ball to me.

  I swung and smacked it over the pool house, and Sean started shouting and cheering. Ethan shook his head, but he was smiling. He clearly thought I would be an easy out.

  But no. I made it all the way to the final round, kicking Sean and Jeff out of the game.

  “You gonna let her win, E?” Jeff called, winking at me from the picnic table where he sat drinking a beer.

  Ethan chuckled, showing off those damn dimples. He looked down at the ball in his hands and then back up at me. “If I do, will you let me take you out?”

  “What? Like on a date?” I snorted, trying to look braver than I felt. “Not a chance.”

  “Wait a sec . . . I like this. Let’s make a wager,” he said.

  The guys were all hooting and hollering at me, my face no doubt crimson. I bit my lip, feeling all their eyes on me. “What do I get if I win?”

  “I’m thinking, hang on.” He held up his finger, his brow furrowed in thought. His eyes widened with excitement, and I knew I would regret whatever he had to say.

  “If I win, I get a kiss.” If it was possible, my cheeks flushed even more. Cue the laughter and the cat calls.

  “And, if I win?” I said, setting a hand on my hip to stop the shaking.

  He looked at me for a second, considering. “If you win, I won’t ever ask you out again.”

  The idea earned a chorus of “Yeah, right” and “No way” from the guys.

  My mouth fell open. I had not been expecting that, but his expression was serious. The laughing around us fell away for a second, and I could only stare at him, feeling the color drain from my face. His expression remained solemn, and he met my gaze head on.

  I nodded stiffly and swallowed. “All right.”

  His grin came back in full force. “Oh, and Al?” I raised my eyebrows at him. “I won’t lose.”

  He was right. I swung at his third pitch and completely missed. And when it was his turn, he smacked the first ball I pitched a hundred yards past the mark.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at his victory dance—his hips swinging, fists rotating over his head. His energy was contagious. He bounded toward me, a grin on his face.

  “Told you,” he said.

  I shrugged, about to make some kind of snide remark when Joanne shouted from the deck.

  “Food’s ready!”

  ***

  When it was time to go, the nervous feeling in my stomach intensified, and I almost regretted eating so much. This wouldn’t be the first time I’d kissed Ethan Magliaro; I knew what he was capable of.

  It’s just a stupid kiss, I repeated over and over in my head. I could get through it, and then everything would go back to normal. Then my long-lost father’s face flashed in my mind. Okay, as normal as possible. Nothing had to change because of one little kiss.

  When Nicole asked Jeff to bring her home, I stood to join them, but Ethan shot me an “oh, no you don’t” look. I hadn’t really expected to get out of the bet, but I didn’t want to appear eager, either. That would only make things worse. He grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward his truck, while my cousin and his brother left us to drive back to Gram’s alone. I waved at Joanne without meeting her eyes, knowing she probably knew all about our little wager.

  He opened the passenger door for me and waited until I was settled before closing it. He came around and slid in next to me. He didn’t start the engine right away, though. We sat in silence in his parents’ driveway.

  Ethan finally looked over at me, his forehead crinkling in concern. “You know I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, right?”

  A nervous laugh escaped. “You won the bet.”

  Ethan laughed and shook his head as he started the truck. He headed toward the road, and the silence stretched between us. We didn’t speak, but he kept looking over at me with an undefinable expression on his face.

  I had spent more than my share of time watching Ethan’s face. I’d watched him play hockey, I’d watched him play baseball. I’d watched as he flirted with girls, I’d watched him stand stoically at his grandfather’s funeral. I thought I knew how to read him pretty well. But at that moment, I couldn’t figure out what was going through his mind.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked the number. Nicole.

  “Don’t freak out, but I just—”

  “Nicole!” I couldn’t help raising my voice. Sometimes she could be so exasperating. I hadn’t even gotten home yet, and she was already drilling me.

  “Wait, Al, listen it’s your mother. Gram and Pop had to take her to the hospital. She’ll be okay, but she needed to get stitches.”

  My heart stuttered in my chest. “Stitches? What happened?”

  “I don’t really know. Mom just said she had an episode during dinner and was banging on the window...and the glass broke.”

  I looked over and Ethan met my eyes curiously.

  “We’re almost home, meet me there.” I clicked my phone shut and leaned my head against the back of the seat. “My mom broke a window with her hand. She needs stitches.”

  I looked over at Ethan, expecting to see pity, but, thankfully he just nodded and kept driving.

  “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” he asked, his voice gentle.

  “You don’t mind?”

  Ethan clenched his jaw, and I looked away. “Of course I don’t mind. You should probably text Nicole and let her know, though.”

  ***

  We drove the rest of the way in silence, a million feelings—namely guilt—running through my mind. I should have been there. I should never have gone out. But what would it have mattered if I was there? Would I have been able to help? Oh god, did Liam show up again? I was starting to hyperventilate.

  Ethan placed a hand on my knee as he parked the car, and for once, my heart rate slowed rather than raced. “She’ll be okay,” he said.

  I nodded, and then we hurried into the emergency department, scanning the crowded lobby. I didn’t see my grandparents anywhere, so I headed to the Triage station where a middle-aged woman was typing something into the computer. She didn’t even look up when I arrived. I bounced on the balls of my feet for a second, waiting for her to greet me. Finally, I coughed to get her attention.

  She glanced up at me. “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice nasally.

  “Yes, my mother is here—Elizabeth O’Malley. I need to know where I can find her.”

  “Just a minute.” She yawned and typed a few strokes into her keyboard.

  I looked over at Ethan to find him watching me, his expression anxious. As I turned my attention back to the woman at the desk, I saw Pop walking toward us, carrying two coffees.

  “Thanks, I’m all set,” I said to the receptionist. She returned my gaze with a bland expression.

  “Allison, what are you doing here?” Pop asked, glancing between me and Ethan.

  “Nic called and said you had to bring Mom in for stitches, so Ethan drove me over. How is she? Is she okay?”

  He smiled tiredly. “She’ll be fine. Twelve stitches in her left hand. Those darn birds in the yard were making an awful racket. She was really upset.” Pop shook his head and motioned for us to follow him.

  “Al, do you want me to take off?” Ethan asked. “I can stay if you want me to.”

  I looked at him. “You can go. I’ll be fine.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out the huge glass window in the lobby. “Okay, well, let me know if you need anything.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Thanks for bringing me, Ethan. I owe you.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. That was a look I recognized. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Chapter 4

  Gra
m was sitting at the table with a clipboard when I walked into the kitchen the next morning, remaking the chart that kept track of my mother’s medication schedule. She now had to add painkillers to the anti-psychotic drugs she already took daily.

  I watched my grandmother fill in the sheet, whispering to herself about the dosages and medication names. I wondered, not for the first time, if I’d actually be able to handle the medications and care of my mother on my own.

  I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I had to work the ten o’clock shift at the hardware store. My grandfather wasn’t working that morning, but I didn’t see him around the house. Then the sight of the plastic covering the window in the living room gave me a pretty good idea where he was.

  I poked my head into the den to check on my mother. The sight of the bandage on her hand wasn’t what upset me most. She just sat there in a chair, staring at the trees. Pain was written in the tight lines around her mouth and eyes. Knowing she was on pain meds, I guessed it wasn’t something physical.

  I cleared my throat quietly, letting her know I was in the room. At first I didn’t think she’d look at me, but after several heartbeats she turned her head toward me. A tiny gasp escaped before I could cover my mouth with my palm. Her eyes were vacant and dull, but it didn’t mask her misery. I had never seen her so despondent.

  I made my way into the room and sat on the sofa across from her. She shifted her gaze back toward the window. I wished I knew what went on in her mind when she was like this. Maybe then I could help. Was she thinking about Liam? How would she react if she actually saw him again?

  The screen door creaked from the porch, and I heard my grandfather’s voice. And then Ethan’s . . .

  From where I sat I could see him walk in carrying a new window. He was dressed for work in his hunter green Magliaro Construction T-shirt. The muscles in his forearms were taut as he brought the window into the living room. The door slammed, and my grandfather followed.