“I want to go to see my mother’s family this Saturday. I’m going to ask them to give Dad and me the money to live in the apartment.” He nodded with his words like he needed to reassure himself.
“Your mom that’s passed away?” I heard discouragement in my voice, so I followed it up with something more inspiring, “That’s probably a solid idea.”
“I never met her, and Dad doesn’t like to talk about her, but he goes on about how rich the family is and how they hate us. So there’s that.” He rubbed his palm on his knee while we waited for the walk sign at the crosswalk.
“How are you going to get there? Do you know where they live?” I nudged him when it was time to move.
“Well, her old high school sent an invitation to send money to some alumni thing, and they had her previous address on it. So I was thinking of taking the train there.” He glanced at me quickly.
“Mom and Bic-hole will be in Vegas, so I could maybe come with you if the tickets aren’t that expensive. If you want. No pressure.”
Relief washed over his face. “That would be great. I think it’s a pretty long train ride from what I saw on the map Dad has.”
“Okay. We’ll do it.” I held out my pinkie and he did the same. It was a handshake and a promise all at the same time.
Chapter 21
Gaze
PIXIE AND I walked over to the Central Station downtown after school, looking into ticket prices. Between the two of us, we could come up with the cash to get back-and-forth to Poughkeepsie. So our secret trip to save my dad and me was starting out great. Almost exciting. I wasn’t going to tell my dad. He was used to me being out. I got a bees nest in my stomach thinking about what would happen if he tried looking for me early in the day and I was nowhere to be found, but I had to ignore it and power forward. Enjoy the trip with Pixie. She had a skip in her step. She’d never really been out of the neighborhood. We were going to get to Poughkeepsie by 10:00 a.m., if the train was on time, so I thought we could go exploring a little before trying to find my mother’s parents’ place.
We peeked out our windows and waved. She didn’t have to sneak because her mom and Bic had left last night for a late flight.
But I did. It was easy enough because my father had made it to his room before passing out. I was able to time his snores with my steps and I was on the sidewalk with Pixie in no time. Pixie had her backpack with her.
“You headed to school instead?” I touched the strap.
She shook her head. “Amateur. We needed snacks and food and something to do on the train. It’s like an hour train ride.”
“Oh. That’s actually a good idea. Nice work.” She and I went over to the ticket machine and fed the right amount of dollars in to get two FastTrack cards with the right amount on them for us both to go to and from.
We felt like adults. And we had enough street smarts from this summer that we hoped we looked too clever to mess with. Well, at least Pixie did. She was snapping gum and watching for the train—totally in her element.
When the train pulled up, she and I navigated for a mostly empty car and took our seats facing the right direction. I let her have the window seat and then settled in for the long ride. It was pretty exciting when the car pulled away from the station, like an adventure. Pixie’s eyes were shining, so I knew she felt the same way I did.
After about ten minutes, I started pestering Pixie for food. “You know, I think I’m dying of starvation.”
She swung her head in my direction. “Did you eat any breakfast?”
“I didn’t want to wake up Bruce.” That part was true, but I also hit my snooze three times, so I clearly wasn’t that upset about it.
“Fine. You can have a snack.” She pulled out a little bag of goldfish for her and one for me.
We ate through those pretty quickly, and like a dam bursting open, once the lunch sack was breached, everything flooded out. Soon enough, we were staring at a bunch of empty wrappers and our breath smelled like peanut butter and our fingers were stained with Cheeto dust. She handed me a napkin.
We cleaned up and put everything back into the brown sack for the next time we saw a trash can.
“I don’t want to hear either of us complaining that we’re hungry when lunch rolls around.” Pixie was disgusted with herself and me.
“Oh, we’ll be complaining. No worries.” I patted her forearm and then pointed out the window to distract her. We were getting to less and less congested spots of the state. The woods and rivers enthralled her.
“It’s way less busy than our river.” Our river was more brown than blue and had a lot of trash along the edges.
“Yeah. I think stuff can live in it, too, way out here. I used to go fishing with my dad when I was little.” I felt the disappointment of losing that dad. The one that planned outings for us and made jokes.
She saw through me. “Maybe he’ll get better someday.”
I nodded, playing along. My hope never really wagged its tail when it came to my dad anymore, but I appreaciated her trying. Next, Pixie pulled out her music player and handed me one earphone. We listened to a few of her favorite songs and I watched her bop her head to the beat.
This part was easy. The next part, well, I wasn’t sure if there would even be a next part. Mom’s parents probably moved and we were headed on a pointless mission.
When the stop for Poughkeepsie was announced, we grabbed our stuff and headed off the train. There were a few groups on the platform and Pixie and I stepped to the side to let them pass us. We had to orientate ourselves. I had my dad’s map in my pocket, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure how to use it. Pixie was busy looking at a cardboard piano that was lying off to the side, and I had to capture her attention.
“I think this is the right street. I mean, it looks pretty close on here, but it might be a long walk.” I pointed out the station and the street with the same address as the piece of mail that had come to my apartment.
“It’s cooler up here. I like it. Let’s walk. Only one way to get where we’re going.”
And with that, we headed in what seemed like the right direction, and soon enough, we found signs that proved us wrong, so we turned around.
“We’re like two runaways,” I offered.
“Nah, runaways don’t come back. We’re come-back-aways.” She crinkled her eyes at me and I smiled. Man, she was up for anything. I was grateful to not be alone for this part. I was worried that my mom’s family might call the cops or something. Dad always said that they hated us. And this was really letting them know how bad it was. I was hoping they would have a heart. And a checkbook for me. If this didn’t work, I wasn’t sure where we were headed next. I got a shiver despite the heat.
“You all right?” Pixie kicked a rock off the sidewalk.
“Yeah. Just trying to figure out what to say.” I really had not gotten that far in my head yet. Just a general idea.
The neighborhood was getting more and more elegant as we walked. Sprinklers went off, watering perfect lawns. The houses appeared small compared to our buildings, but huge compared to what houses should be.
“There’s so much...space. Wow.” Pixie stopped to smell the literal flowers that were growing by a mailbox. It had my mom’s last name scrawled on the side. “Looks like this might be it.”
She put her arm around my shoulder as I took in the actual house. Huge columns like the White House. A circular driveway was dotted with pretty trees and more landscaping.
“They might actually be rich,” I observed out loud. Their house looked like it would be considered a mansion. There were even outbuildings. All the lights and fixtures were made of wrought iron and a stately look.
“Let’s see if they’re home.” Pixie pulled on my hand like we were going trick-or-treating, not crashing the family’s carefully protected bubble.
The two front doors towered over us, and it took a minute to locate the fancy doorbell. Pixie let me do the honors.
It sounded like a church b
ell was going off in the house. We waited so long I considered ringing it again. It swung open before we had the chance,
The woman that answered the door wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “Yes?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Pixie grabbed my hand.
“We have some questions about Sophie. Is there anyone here that can talk with us?”
It was the perfect way to word it, and I was grateful again for Pixie.
“Please, come in.” She stepped to the side to allow us to pass. The foyer was huge and had a staircase that seemed like it belonged in a fancy museum.
“Why don’t you both wait here, and I’ll find out. Okay?” She ran the towel through her hands a few times, looking hesitant before disappearing around the staircase.
“Did she look like me? Do you think we’re related?” I had a million questions. Pixie took a few steps into the parlor to our left. It was filled with books and pictures of strangers. She stepped closer to one on a high shelf and went to her tiptoes.
“This one. Come look at this one.” She gestured to the faded picture in a wooden frame.
“Oh.” It was weird to see your face in someone else’s. I had a few pictures of Mom, but not many, and none of them were this close up, like it had been taken by a professional. Her eye color and mine were a perfect match.
“She was beautiful.” Pixie didn’t seem to have any hesitation that the picture was of my mother.
“She was that,” from behind us an elderly man spoke.
I turned around to face him.
“And you must be her son.”
I nodded. In my head I’d introduced myself formally, made a great impression. I think the only thing I was doing in reality was making my eyes huge and gulping air.
“This is Gaze and I’m Pixie Rae and we need your help.” Pixie stepped up and held out her hand like a businesswoman. I followed her lead and held out my hand, too.
The older man shook hers and then held my hand a bit longer. “It’s like stepping back in time. Seeing you. So much like her.”
Pain and sadness, possibly some disbelief, mixed in his eyes. I wondered if he had rehearsed this moment, too, like I had and was also failing at hitting all the right notes.
“Let’s step into my office, shall we?” The lady who had opened the door for us was puttering around the foyer, wiping down tables with her towel.
“It’s not entertainment, Matilda. Please find something else to do.”
She hurried away.
The man held open the door and Pixie and I sat in the seats across from the fancy leather one.
He closed the office door and walked behind the desk. He was wearing a gray suit and a red tie on a Saturday.
“You’ve come here without your father?”
He sat and the chair made a squeaking noise that reminded me of a fart and I started to lose my control. It was hitting me as hilarious. Pixie reached over and pinched my arm hard, warning in her eyes. She knew a fart would always get me rolling. I swallowed my laughter.
“Yes. Just Pixie and me.”
He crossed his arms and regarded us both. “Why are you here?”
Not are you okay? Is everything all right? Do you want to hear stories about your mom? Just getting to the endgame.
“I heard you were rich and we aren’t. Dad’s having a rough time, so I want to pay the bills.” If he wanted to get straight to it, so be it. We could both play this game.
“Your father is having a rough time? Is that so? So the move to the big city wasn’t the answer to every problem he had? No one could have seen that coming.” The older man huffed.
I knew my face was getting red and my mouth was getting dry as well.
“Hey, moneybags, let’s not be a jerk about it and hear some solutions to the problem.” Pixie was ready to fight for me, like she always was.
His eyebrows crawled up into his hairline as he registered her words. “You both don’t mince words, huh?”
“You’re not being real friendly. I expected more from my...grandfather.”
I’d never called him that before. Even by myself in my head. He was always Mom’s dad if I thought about him at all.
“Is that so? Well, go on then. Tell me how I can magically fix your life with my money.” And then he put his shoulders back.
Pixie stood up and put both her hands on his desk. “We just rode a train an hour and a half to get here to talk to you. Don’t make us regret it. This boy is amazing. More amazing than you could ever be.”
I looked at my feet. I was having a hard time saying what I needed to. I had hoped hard that it’d be a good experience. They would offer me money before I even had to ask, maybe ask me about some of the things that I was interested in.
The old man opened a drawer and slid out a checkbook. “How much?”
Pixie made a frustrated noise. She pointed to a picture on the wall. “He looks just like her. Just like her.”
The man glanced from the picture to me and back, his shoulders slumping. “Why did you come?”
It was a little better than how much? at least.
“My father is going through a rough time, and I’d like us to be able to stay in our apartment.”
Pixie opened up her backpack and slid the paper that we had compiled over to him. “This is what they’re looking at monthly.”
My grandfather unfolded his glasses on his chin while he shook the paperwork.
“I see. This is…well-thought-out.” He proposed the numbers and nodded slowly. Finally, he offered a surprised, “An alcohol budget?”
“If he doesn’t get it, things get worse.” I folded my hands on my lap, feeling the humiliation of my dad’s addiction.
“You do know that your father killed my daughter in a drunken car accident, correct?” He peered over his glasses at me, like I had been driving as well.
I looked at my hands. I didn’t know. The way Dad had talked about it, it seemed like cancer had taken her when I was a toddler. Or something medical. It explained a lot. Like why I wasn’t involved with these people at all. They probably hated me.
Pixie’s hand covered mine.
“He was a baby. Would your daughter want you to still love Gaze and provide for him?”
A tear escaped and I wanted to wipe it, but I wasn’t moving my hands. I was so thankful that she could speak. I was just dumbfounded.
My grandfather stood. I could hear his chair scraping the floor. I risked a peek. His back was to me, and he was looking at the picture on the wall.
“I told her not to marry him. That it would be the death of me. Turns out, I was close to right. God, I wish it had been me.” His voice choked off and he put his hand on his forehead, rubbing.
“I can’t deal with this. I can’t let my wife deal with this. We’ve moved on. It hurts, and I’m not willing to open her up to all of this.”
He waved his hand in my direction.
“Then you have one choice. You pay Gaze’s bills and we won’t trouble you with him again. But it’s your loss. I wouldn’t have chosen a day without this guy.” Pixie stood up, too, glaring.
My grandfather stared at the picture for a long time. “Okay. Okay. Give me the address.”
Pixie was prepared with all the information my grandfather needed, including a bank account number. He carefully copied the information and then set his pen down.
Pixie tapped her fingers on the desk as she stood. “You deliver every month, and we won’t have to come back.”
I stood up as well, waiting for maybe a kind word, or anything from him.
He dug into his wallet, pulling out a small stack of twenties. “This should get you home. And maybe a dinner. I’ll give my accountant this information and he’ll put you on a schedule.”
Pixie put her arm around my shoulder. “Immediately. We don’t have any time if we’re going to get him caught up on his bills.”
I watched as my grandfather’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
In my drea
ms I’d get to walk around this place. Look at their old photo albums. Be welcome. But that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, Pixie marched me to the door and we left without even a goodbye.
We were halfway down the path when my tears started in, the sobs shaking my body.
Pixie wrapped my head in a hug, pulling me close. “They’re a bunch of assbags that want to punish you for your dad’s mistakes. I’m so sorry.”
She was right. My grandfather was an assbag.
“Let’s get out of here. You hungry? We could stop in the place we saw near the tracks for dinner. Remember, it smelled so good.” She arranged her arm so it was around my waist. I wiped at my eyes and sniffed back my tears.
All the new stuff I knew swirled in my head. That my dad killed my mom. That he was still doing the same things now that he was then. It explained why we didn’t have a car and he had a special identification card instead of a driver’s license.
And I looked just like my mom. That was clear enough. I wished I remembered her. My fury at my father deepened. I was pissed that her family seemed to think I was a problem or something that had to be hidden. That my grandfather would rather pay every month than look at me and tell me to move into his huge house because I was family.
I was into my own thoughts pretty deep, because Pixie had to say my name a few times before I realized I was sitting in a diner at a booth with her staring at a menu. I didn’t even know what to order. Pixie took the menu and ordered for us both.
“Two cheeseburgers, fries, and Cokes.” She passed the menus to the waitress. As soon as the woman left, Pixie stood up and slid over to my side of the booth, bumping me with her hip, forcing me to move over.
She had her hand on my hand again. “I think you’re in shock. That was a lot. All at once, too. Is there anything you want to talk about?”
She leaned forward so she could look into my face.
“I think we found out all we need to know. And if he pays like he’s supposed to and I can get access to our money, I should be able to stay across from you.” I watched out the window at the cars flying by on the road. So sure of themselves, one after another flying by. Each grill on the front seemed like an evil smile mocking me.
Drowning in Stars Page 9
