by Debra Doxer
The days after my mother died, my father needed darkness and constant quiet. He kept the shades pulled down and wouldn’t allow any lights to be turned on. He made the house a cave, a place where he could shrivel up and die too. I’d thought her passing would bring us closer, but instead I’d never felt so alone.
I had been losing my mother for a long time. It was a slow, agonizing good-bye, but I lost my father at the same time, all at once and unexpectedly. He loved her so much, but he’d always been so strong. I never imagined how hard he’d fall.
An hour before my aunt showed up to take me, my father told me what was happening. I got no more notice than that. He said he hated that she was stealing me from him, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t allow her to take him to court and have lawyers digging into his life. The truth was, my mother had told her sister more than she should have about my father, and Aunt Marion wasn’t nearly as understanding. But my father didn’t seem overwrought about it, not the way I did. His eyes were sad, and I knew he didn’t want me to go, but the only tears shed that day were mine.
Once I was gone, my father slowly came back to life, and I tried not to feel hurt that he needed me gone to do it. Maybe I reminded him too much of her. Maybe enough time had passed and he would have gotten better either way. But I never asked; I didn’t really want to know. The one thing I did know was that I never wanted to feel so completely helpless again.
As I watched my mother fade and my father grieve, my inability to do anything sat like a weight on my chest, growing heavier each day until something as simple as breathing hurt. All I could do was stand by while everything fell apart, and no matter how much I wished for things to get better, they never did. I was fighting an enemy I couldn’t see, and my only weapons were hope and patience. Both were completely useless. Now, the thought of being helpless was intolerable, especially when I knew who my enemy was. Retaliation didn’t always alleviate the pressure inside me, but taking action was preferable to sitting back and taking it. I would never silently take it again, not if I could help it.
After a while, I turned off my music and stood in the middle of the living room, too restless to sleep and too bombarded by memories to stand still. Walking down the hallway, I went into my father’s bedroom. Instinctively, I knew that no other woman had shared his bed since my mother died. There may have been women, but I was fairly sure he never brought them here.
The room was in shadows with a perfectly made bed and the door to the walk-in closet left open an inch or so because it stuck when it was closed all the way. I’d been in there many times and knew nearly all my mother’s clothes were gone. My father had finally donated them last year, except for a few dresses that reminded him most of her.
Walking into the closet, I turned on the light and smiled at the evidence of his borderline OCD. Pressed dress shirts and pants were hung according to color and season in neat rows. His clothes had expanded, taking up both sides of the closet now. The only exception was the back corner of what had been my mother’s side.
Careful not to disrupt his precision, I reached out to the familiar blue dress and ran my fingers over the silky fabric. It was a wraparound style that had hugged her slim body. I recalled my mother wearing this dress once when my father took her out to dinner. They were a stunning couple, looking like they jumped off a movie screen.
Leaning in, I sniffed the neckline, but there was no evidence of the sweet perfume she wore. I stepped deeper into the closet and when I reached for the next dress, a pale yellow one, my toe connected with something hard.
Pushing the dresses to the side, I looked down to see a small brown safe. Before I could think too much about it, I reached down and pushed on the handle, but of course it was locked.
My father’s office was next door with desk drawers that were always locked. Why did he need a safe too? It was new since my last visit.
I sat down on the floor and stared at the combination lock. Then I tried to wedge my fingers beneath the cold metal and lift it, realizing it wasn’t very heavy at all. I could probably carry the whole thing out of here.
The safe’s size, weight, and presence made no sense. It was added security that wasn’t secure at all. My desire to know what was in the safe grew, and I took a stab at unlocking it using birthdays and other obvious numbers. Not surprisingly, none of them worked.
Giving up for now, I restored everything to its original place, turned out the light, and went to my own room, but I couldn’t help wondering what my father would put in a safe like that. Maybe my mother’s jewelry since it was sitting just below her dresses, important papers, his gun. I knew he had one, but I’d never seen it.
Whatever it was, I was still thinking about it when I drifted off to sleep, brainstorming ideas and possibilities for figuring out the combination.
***
Theo: Even if you’re on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.
I was standing in the front office at school, waiting my turn, when a couple of girls I didn’t know walked past me saying hello and using my name. Based on how immature they looked, I guessed they were freshmen, which meant people were starting to know who I was.
“Yes?” The woman behind the desk eyed me expectantly.
“Where can I pick up some college applications?”
She squinted. “Well, you need to speak to your guidance counselor, and together you can talk about—”
“Right,” I interrupted her. “But what have you got that I can take with me now?”
Her eyebrows shot up as she glanced around the office. “Some of the local community colleges leave their brochures here.”
“Great. I’ll take those.”
After shoving a handful of applications into my bag, I wondered if my half-assed attempt at doing as my father told me would earn me all-out wrath or stiff-lipped indulgence. I guessed I’d find out.
When I got to English, I saw that Jonah had beaten me there. The fact that I even scanned the room for him annoyed me. He was looking down, reading something on his phone, and there was an empty desk beside him, but I bypassed it, taking the long way around and sitting several rows back without his noticing my arrival.
As I looked at the back of his head with its waves of dark hair, I swallowed hard, recalling the smell of his cologne and the heavy weight of his jacket on my shoulders. The idea of someone noticing I was cold and offering me his coat flustered me and warmed me at the same time. I wasn’t used to gestures like that; it made me feel taken care of somehow. Then I thanked him and he sucked all the goodness out of it with his rude remark.
Mr. Harris closed the door after the bell rang, and I watched Jonah put away his phone as he looked around casually. Then his head moved more swiftly as he scanned the class.
I averted my gaze before he turned his body in my direction, but in my peripheral vision I noticed the way he stopped for a moment while looking my way, until he faced the front again.
Was it me he’d been looking for? It sure seemed that way.
I did a decent job of listening in class. When it ended, I wondered if Jonah would wait for me, but he didn’t. He strolled right out of the room without a second glance, making me believe I’d been wrong about him looking for me earlier.
Mr. Harris stopped me briefly on the way out to ask if I could come by his classroom for a few minutes after school to fill out the tutoring forms. I agreed and headed out into the busy hallway.
By lunchtime, I’d pulled myself out of my weekend funk and was ready for some socializing again. Wallowing wasn’t really my thing anyway. The sun shone through the windows, brightening the cafeteria and practically focusing a spotlight on the round table in the center of the room. Everyone was there when I arrived a little late after stopping off at the bathroom for a spot check. Since I was getting more attention today, lots of hellos from strangers, I needed to look flawless with no shine on my face or stray hairs falling out of my high ponytail.
“Hey, kids.” I
grinned as I sat down and pulled out my diet soda, noticing how it matched the diet soda cans in front of the other girls.
“I’m starving.” Ashley groaned, pushing her drink away. She looked rough this morning with her red hair pulled into a messy ponytail and her eyeliner a little heavier than usual.
“Suck it up,” Parker hissed at her. “Do you have any idea how many calories we consumed at my party?”
Ethan grinned. “I told you ladies you didn’t have to swallow.”
“You’re a pig.” Ashley scowled.
Pushing his messy blond hair off his face, Ethan took a huge bite of his sandwich, looking smug, as if he’d been given a compliment.
Across from me, I was surprised to see Lea’s eyes turn shiny as she looked at Ethan, but before any tears could fall, she blinked them away. I hadn’t talked to her since Saturday night when she’d disappeared at Parker’s party, and now I wondered exactly what happened when I couldn’t find her.
Sipping on my soda, I counted down the minutes until I could hit the cookie stash in my locker. I even considered sharing them with Lea since she seemed so upset.
As for the rest of the table, Malcolm had smiled shyly at me earlier, but now he was busy eating and not paying much attention to me, which I took as a good sign. Jonah was his usual unflappable self, eating distractedly while making boring football talk with Ethan.
When lunch period was over, Lea walked with me to my locker looking like she had something to say. Her appearance was almost as bad as Ashley’s with tired eyes and hair that was braid-free for once, pulled back in a pink headband instead.
“What time did Parker’s party end?” I asked.
She glanced at me. “Around eleven . . . Sunday morning.”
I gawked. “Seriously?”
Lea nodded. “Sorry I ditched you and didn’t respond to your texts,” she said quietly, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other. She looked down at her feet as she walked, obviously upset.
“Did something happen with Ethan at the party?”
Lea released a heavy breath. “I’m such an idiot.”
I stopped walking and turned to her, making her stop too. “What happened?”
Her eyes found mine and she exhaled again, pulling me toward a quieter section of the hallway.
“I kissed Ethan again. We went at it for a while, actually, and at some point he pulled me into a bedroom, and we kept kissing but he didn’t do anything else. I mean, you know his reputation. I kept waiting, but his hands never wandered. After a while, I offered to . . .” She cleared her throat. “I mean, I reached for his zipper and—”
“I get it,” I said, not making her finish. “And then what?”
“He stopped me.”
I tilted my head in surprise.
Lea nodded. “He told me not to. Then he said we should probably get back to the party. But I saw him later with another girl. Anyway, he couldn’t have made it any clearer. He doesn’t want me, Candy.”
When a tear slipped down her cheek, I pulled her into a hug. “He wasn’t with Parker or Ashley, was he? The swallowing thing was just a joke?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t see him with them. I assume it was a joke, not that it was funny.”
Releasing her, I said, “Look, you’re gorgeous. Any guy would want you. Don’t let Ethan make you feel like this.”
She snorted. “But he’s not that picky, except when it comes to me, apparently.”
I couldn’t help a smile from escaping. “Maybe he thinks of you as a friend, and he didn’t want to take things too far and ruin that.” I was aware of Ethan’s reputation, but I didn’t know much else about him. Truthfully, I was surprised that he’d turned her down. It seemed out of character. I rubbed her arm, trying to be sympathetic when I really thought she was better off.
“By the way.” She sniffled. “I talked to Malcolm about you at the party. He says he was just being friendly because he hadn’t seen you in so long, and he didn’t mean anything by it. I think he was embarrassed that you read more into it.”
I turned skeptical eyes on her.
She held up her hand. “I know. He’s probably trying to save face. Anyway, he’s sorry.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled, thinking of how awkward that conversation must have been. But at least Malcolm was acting more normal around me.
After I hugged Lea once more, wishing I could do more to help her, we went our separate ways to class.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. In last period calculus, Jonah came in after I did and lifted his chin in recognition before he sat down beside me and then ignored me. Even though I felt myself scowling, I didn’t take it personally. As I was learning, this was just who he was. Besides, the girl sitting on the other side of him was getting the brush-off too. In fact, he nearly growled at her when she flirted with him, which made me chuckle out loud.
Jonah eyed me curiously, but I cleared my throat and pretended not to notice.
Once the final bell rang, I moved quickly, wanting to be the one who walked out first and ignored Jonah rather than the other way around. It was juvenile and he probably didn’t even notice, but it made me feel better. Besides, I was starving and I had to get to my meeting with Mr. Harris.
At my locker, I grabbed the plastic bag of cookies along with the rest of my things, and started munching on one as I made my way to Harris’s classroom. Stepping through the door, I stopped short when I saw Jonah leaning on a desk across from where Mr. Harris sat.
Jonah eyed me silently as I walked in. Mr. Harris looked up, and his expression was one of annoyance.
“Candace, please come in.” Then he gestured to Jonah. “Mr. Bryson has just arrived to sign up for tutoring too.”
Bryson? So that was his last name. Jonah Bryson.
Jonah hadn’t mentioned he was interested in tutoring when he asked me what Harris wanted the other day. Moving the rest of the way into the room, I stood with Jonah as Harris shuffled papers on his desk, appearing flustered.
“Well,” he began, scratching his head, “I had the forms here, but I can’t seem to find them now. We’ll have to reschedule or perhaps you could wait, Candace, and I’ll make some more copies.”
He looked pointedly at Jonah. “I’m sure you have football practice. If you need to leave, Candace could give you the material later.” Harris smiled at me, giving my body a quick once-over that had me wanting to cover up with my coat.
Was I reading into things, or was he trying to get me alone?
Jonah stood, pushing to his full intimidating height. “I’m her ride,” he said. “If I go, she goes.”
My eyes widened. Jonah shot me a look, silently telling me to go along with it. But he’d get no argument from me. I suddenly had the creeps. No way did I want to be alone with Mr. Harris.
“Well,” Mr. Harris said, his expression tight with irritation. “We’ll have to reschedule you both then. Sorry to have held you up.”
Jonah grunted something before placing his hand at the small of my back and guiding me out of the room. He kept nudging me along until we’d reached the main doors.
“They need to fire his ass,” he muttered as he pushed open the door for me.
Once we were outside, I turned to him. “There goes an easy after-school job. Talk about giving off major creeper vibes.” A shudder ran through me and Jonah’s eyes flared, as if my reaction surprised him. Did he think I’d missed what just happened in there? Jonah rescued me, not that I needed rescuing, but still.
“So, what’s Harris’s deal?” I asked. “You obviously knew something was going on with him when you first asked me what he wanted.”
Jonah studied me with an inscrutable expression. “He’s a pervert,” he said finally.
“Would he seriously have made a move on me?”
He sighed impatiently. “No. He wanted to invite you to join his knitting club.” Scanning the half-empty parking lot, he added, “I’d better give you a ride in case he’s loitering aroun
d here somewhere.”
I was so frustrated with Jonah, I practically stomped my foot. It seemed he had this need to save me from Harris but was severely unhappy about it. “Would you act human for a minute and talk to me?”
Jonah seemed startled, as if he had no idea he was being rude. “Sorry, I . . .” He scratched his head and shifted from foot to foot, avoiding my eyes. “He’s trouble. Just take my word for it.” Then he turned and walked away with swift strides, telegraphing his desire to drop the subject.
Wow, an apology. I hadn’t expected that, and his discomfort was a surprise too. Deciding to accept the ride despite his rudeness, I followed him toward a black Jeep parked near the back of the lot. I never took anyone’s word for anything, but I believed him about Harris. What I didn’t understand was Jonah’s unwillingness to talk about it.
Once we arrived at Jonah’s Jeep, I saw it was one of those cloth tops, which meant it would be a cold ride home. Based on what I’d seen of Jonah’s personality, I wasn’t just talking about the weather.
He held the passenger door open for me and closed it again once I was seated inside. When he got in beside me, he looked at the bag of cookies on my lap and laughed.
I wasn’t sure what was funny, but I offered him some. “They’re chocolate chip. Homemade.”
Jonah grinned. It was probably the first smile I’d seen on his face that wasn’t a smirk. I had to admit, it was kind of beautiful and unexpected. When he smiled, both his eyes crinkled up just alike, and you couldn’t see the scar or the slight dip of his right eye.
“No thanks,” he said. “You need them more than me based on the big pile of nothing you ate for lunch.” He started the engine, shifted into reverse, and deftly maneuvered out of the space.
Rolling my eyes at him, I pulled out a cookie and took a bite. It was odd being here with Jonah. He was nearly impossible to get a read on, so I had no idea what he thought of me, if he thought anything at all.
As he drove, I could feel him glancing in my direction. “Why the act?” he asked.
