The Fortune Quilt
Page 16
“I think it’s vile.” Janesse looks at me. “You let her make you drink this stuff?”
“She gives me what I order on Fridays,” I say, taking another sip. It’s not that bad.
Janesse walks around the counter, grabs Allegra by the hand, and starts toward the door. “Watch the store for a minute, okay, Carly? I’m gonna get me a real cappuccino.”
“You hit that!” Allegra calls over her shoulder with a giggle as Janesse pulls her out of the store. They’re gone for maybe two minutes when Mr. Trimble walks in. I stand awkwardly behind the counter trying to ignore him as he goes to the charcoals and picks out his regular box then makes his way to the counter. I manage to ring him up and am giving him his change when I accidentally make eye contact. His eyes widen as though I’ve slapped him. I freeze with my hand holding the change over his open palm. He freezes as well.
Well. In for a penny…
“What’s up with the charcoal?” I say before I can stop myself. “No paper. Just the charcoal. What’s up with that, Mr. Trimble?”
“Fuck off,” he says.
“Okay, then.” I drop the change into his open palm, and he stuffs it in his pocket, snatches the bag with the charcoal off the countertop and stalks out of the store.
“Have a nice day,” I call out after him. “Come again!”
“Fuck off!” He pushes the door open and is gone from sight before the little bells stop jingling.
***
Something is ringing. Something is ringing. Something…
I open one eye, and see only a sheen of moonlight glancing off my lace curtains. The ringing stops. I am about to fall back asleep when a shot of panic causes me to open my eyes. I glance at the clock: 3:12. My mind starts piecing it together. People don’t call to chat at 3:12 in the morning. It’s probably an emergency. If there’s an emergency, I need to get up. With some effort, I reach over and flick on my light, then grab my cell phone off the nightstand, where it’s been charging. I am just about to check my missed calls list when it rings again, and I see Dad’s name on the caller ID panel. I take a deep breath and flip it open.
“Is she there?” he says before I get a chance to say hello.
“Dad? What? Is who here? Ella? No.”
“Not Ella. Five.”
It feels like someone has stabbed a hypodermic of adrenaline into my heart, and I bolt upright in bed. “No. She’s not there? Where is she? What happened?”
“There was an argument. We all went to bed, but when your mother went in to check on Five, she wasn’t in her room.”
I am off the bed in a shot, grabbing a pair of jeans from my dresser and dashing into them. “Where is she? How long has she been gone? Did you call Rebecca? Is she over there?”
“We called Rebecca.” There is mumbling in the background; I can hear Mary’s voice, and then Dad is back on the line. “We just wanted to see if she’d called you or ended up there. Will you call us if she contacts you?”
I freeze where I am. “What? Will I call you? Yeah, Dad. I’ll be there in two hours. An hour and a half if I drive like a maniac.”
“Go back to sleep.” There’s a tightness in his voice, and it stops me where I stand. “Just let us know if you hear from her, okay?”
He hangs up. I stare at the phone in my hand. Five is gone. Five is missing. Five is seventeen and God only knows where she is. Horrible images race through my head. As soon as I banish one, there’s another in its place. My heart is pounding so hard it hurts and my breathing is coming really fast.
Five is missing.
I finish getting dressed, grab my keys and purse and head over to Will’s, where I bang on the door until the lights come on and it opens, revealing Will in a rumpled t-shirt and boxer shorts.
“Five is missing,” I say, staring into the Miner’s Inn logo on the center of the t-shirt. “Five is missing and I’m freaking out.”
Will blinks once and looks instantly awake. “She’s missing? What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I say. He touches me on the arm and guides me inside as I babble. “Dad just called and they had a fight and she ran off and no one knows where she is and she’s only seventeen and she’s book smart but she’s really street-stupid and do you know what happens to street-stupid girls out on the streets in Tucson? Not good things. I used to work at a news station. These are exactly the kinds of things we used to freak people out about during sweeps.”
He puts both hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him. His face is serious and calm and in charge and I love him for that.
“I’m going to throw on some jeans and we’ll go to Tucson and find her, okay?” He leans down a bit and looks me in the eye. “We’ll find her.”
I feel my eyes start to heat up, but I blink it away. “She’s alone somewhere.”
He tightens his hold on my shoulders, and his strength calms me. “I’m gonna go throw on a pair of jeans and we’re on our way, okay?”
“Okay.” I nod. “Okay.”
He darts over to his bed and I wrap my arms around myself and swallow hard, chanting internally. She’ll be fine. She’ll be fine. She’ll be fine. But the images in my head are graphic and horrible and I curse the day that I ever decided to work in television.
Just then, my phone rings. I jump about a half a foot and scramble to grab it out of my purse.
“Hello? Dad? Did you find her? Is she okay?”
There’s a long silence, then a quivering voice says, “Carly?”
Will is at my side and I grab his hand and hold it tight. “Five?”
“I’m at the bus station.”
I put my hand over my forehead and rub hard. “Five, I’m going to hang up and call Dad and he’s going to come get you, okay? So just find a security guard and stay with him until Dad gets there. Which station are you at?”
There’s another long silence, then, “I don’t know. I think there’s only one in Douglas.”
“Douglas?” My voice cracks on the word. “Douglas? You’re down here?”
Her voice is quiet and childlike. “Yeah. Can you come get me?”
“Find a security guard. We’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I say, and flip the phone shut.
***
Will drives us to Douglas, and I call Dad and tell him not to worry. We decide that Five can stay with me for the night, and we’ll figure the rest out in the morning. As I hang up, my hands are shaking from emotions so tangled I can’t tell one from the other. There’s fear and relief and anger and sadness and others, all wound tight together under cords of adrenaline. Will puts his hand over mine and the touch makes me strangely tense. I want to pull my hand away, but I don’t, because I can’t take any more feeling bad tonight.
Will has barely parked the car when I hop out and run into the bus station. The automatic doors don’t open fast enough, and I dart sideways through them, my eyes scanning the empty space for Five. I see a security guard and run over to him.
“My sister. She’s seventeen. She’s here.”
He nods and points to a bench which appears to be empty, but when I walk around, I see Five curled up on it, asleep. I walk over to her and kneel down in front of her, touching her shoulder lightly. “Hey, sweetie.”
She opens her eyes immediately. They are swollen and red and when she focuses on me, they fill up again. She throws her arms around my neck and starts crying into my shoulder and I rub her back until she calms down. When her breathing starts to stabilize, I pull back and hold out a package of travel tissues. She grabs one and dabs at her face.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I just didn’t know what to do.”
I run one hand over her hair. “Yeah. There’s a lot of that going around.”
She looks up over my shoulder and gives a small wave. “Hey, Will.”
Oh. God. Will. I’d completely forgotten about Will. I turn around to see him smiling down at Five.
“Hey, Fiver,” he says kindly. “Thanks for scaring the shit out of us. I hear it’s g
ood for the soul.”
She starts to laugh, and then her lip trembles. “I’m sorry,” she squeaks. I give her shoulders a squeeze.
“You get a reprieve on the ass kicking until tomorrow morning,” I say. “So live it up now, sunshine.”
“Okay.” She attempts a smile and blows her nose, then looks from me to Will and back again. “So… Um. I guess you guys are, uh… I mean, Ella said…”
“Well…” Will begins, but I stand up and cut him off.
“We’re neighbors,” I say. Will hesitates for a second, then nods.
“She just happened to rent the cabin next door.” He meets my eye for the briefest flash, then smiles at Five. “Hell of a coincidence, huh?”
“Yeah.” Five looks confused. “Okay.”
I hold my hand out to Five. “Let’s get you back to my place, kiddo.”
She takes my hand and leans against me as we make our way to the car. I am vaguely aware of a weirdness with Will, but I don’t want to think about it.
I’ll deal with that, I decide, tomorrow.
Nine
I am woken up by the sound of my front door opening. I open my eyes, but all is a muted shade of blue, as my head is completely under the quilt. I pull it down and see Will setting a drink carrier with coffee and a white paper bag down on the table.
“Sorry,” he says. “I tried to sneak in quietly. Thought you guys could use some coffee.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I scratch my head. “What time is it?”
“Nine.” He stands where he is for a moment, then nods toward the back door. “I’ll just let you go back to sleep, then.”
I throw my legs over the side of the couch. “Wait. I’m sorry. I’m still waking up. I’m slow in the mornings.”
He nods again, keeps his eyes on me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I sigh and lean back on the couch. “There’s not much to talk about. I guess I’ll take her back today.”
Will gives me a curious look. “Then there’s probably plenty to talk about. You’ll be seeing your dad again. And your mom. I mean, that’s gotta be… I don’t know. Something.”
I shrug and get up, making a beeline for the coffee. “It is what it is. I’ll bring her back, I’ll make nice for a few minutes, and then I’ll come home.”
He smiles, but his eyes still look worried. “Okay. If you’re sure you don’t need to talk about it.”
“I’m sure.” I take a sip of the coffee. “Mmmmm. Thanks so much. This is perfect.”
“Yeah.” He glances at the quilt on the couch. “Hey, how’d you get Brandy to let you keep that quilt? I’ve been trying to get one out of her for ages.”
“Actually, it’s mine. She gave it to me with a reading when I came to do a story on her. I left it at her place for a while, then took it back on Thanksgiving.”
Our eyes meet for a moment as we both remember Thanksgiving. I look away and take another sip of the coffee. “Did Allegra really make you just a plain cappuccino? How did you get her to do that?”
But Will isn’t listening. He’s heading for the couch, studying the quilt. “So, what did she tell you?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Leave the gun. Take the cannoli.”
He looks at me over his shoulder. “What?”
Before I can answer, the door to my bedroom opens and Five comes out. She’s wearing a pair of my sweats which come up to her mid-calf, and her hair is all smooshed up on one side.
“Hey,” she says, and staggers toward the coffee. “Whoever got coffee, I love you.”
“It was Will.”
Five looks at him and smiles. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Will nods at me. “Well, I’ll let you guys sort everything out.”
“Don’t leave on my account,” Five says.
“No, I’ve got…” He motions vaguely in the direction of his cabin. “Stuff to do.” He looks at me. “So, I’ll… see you later?”
I nod. “I’ll call you when I get back.”
He pauses for a moment. I don’t know if I’m supposed to give him a kiss or not, but considering my morning coffee breath, I stay where I am. He gives a stiff smile and a stiffer wave and heads out the door.
“What’s up with that?” Five says. “Ella said you guys were dating.”
“We’re not dating,” I say. “We’re… I don’t know what we are. We’re… us.”
“Oh. Well. That makes it all clear.” She nods toward the bag. “What’d he bring us?”
I grab it and dip my nose in. “Doughnuts.”
Her eyes widen. “What kind?”
I look again. “Double-chocolate.”
She sighs, dips into the bag, and pulls out a doughnut. “Oh, man. Poor Will.”
“Poor Will? Why poor Will?”
She breaks the doughnut in half. “Nothing. It’s just that you know how different flowers have different meanings? Like white carnations are friendship, red roses are love, blah blah?”
I sit down across from her and reach for the bag. “Yeah?”
“Well, Rebecca and I have this theory that doughnuts have meaning, too. And double-chocolate is pretty much the red rose of the pastry set.”
I freeze with my doughnut in mid-air. “That’s ridiculous.”
She shrugs and takes a bite. “Maybe.”
“Hey,” I say, as my brain slowly catches up with the conversation. “Why poor Will?”
“Hmmm?” She blinks. “Did I say that?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmmm.”
We both stare blankly at our coffee cups for a moment. Neither one of us is a morning person on our best day.
“So,” I say finally, “you gonna tell me what happened with Dad and Mary?”
She lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Oh, it’s so stupid. I was out at this party on Saturday, and I had a little beer - not a lot, just a little, you should have seen how much everyone else was drinking. Then, anyway, Bo was driving home and we got in a little accident.”
“What?” I am suddenly awake and clear-headed and filled with an all-consuming rage I’d like very much to unleash on Botox. “What the hell happened?”
“It was nothing. We were fine. The stupid cops gave him a DUI which was totally unfair because he was just barely over the limit and it was his first offense and we only hit like a mailbox anyway. The cops would have never even known if one of them hadn’t been driving down the street right at that moment.”
“This is your defense?” I say. “Seriously?”
She rolls her eyes. “So then last night Mom sits down with me and tells me she doesn’t want me to see Bo anymore.” Her lower lip trembles, but she sucks it up and plays tough. “Like she has the right. She hasn’t even been here most of my life, and she thinks she can tell me who I can and cannot date?” She rolls her eyes upward to distribute the tears so they don’t fall. “That’s bullshit.”
I take a moment to process the fact that Five is actually trying to get this past me. “Excuse me?”
She leans forward and grins. “Yeah, I know. You should have seen her face when I said it. She was all, ‘Go to your room,’ and I was all, ‘You can’t tell me what to do,’ and then we got in a fight and I went to my room, packed my backpack, and shimmied down the drainpipe.” Five leans over her coffee. Her eyes are dry. “She’s such a bitch. You were totally right about her, Carly.”
I am so stunned that I can’t talk for a moment, but then I get my sea legs back.
“No,” I say. “I wasn’t.”
Five’s eyes dart to connect with mine, and she stares at me, uncomprehending. Meanwhile, I can’t believe Five thinks I’d actually take her side on this, just because it’s against Mary. I sit back in my chair and cross my arms over my stomach, giving Five my sternest, I-mean-it look.
“She’s right, Five. I would have told you the same thing. As a matter of fact, I’m telling you now. You can’t see that boy, ever, ever again.”
Five stares at me for a moment longer, her eyes wi
de, and then her expression goes hard.
“He’s my boyfriend,” she says. “I love him.”
“I don’t care. He could have killed you, and he’s not going to get a second swing at bat. You’re going back home and if I ever hear about that boy coming within ten yards of you, I will personally come after his sorry ass and scare him off but good.”
Five throws up her hands in the air and thuds back in her chair.
“Of course you will,” she says. “It’s your specialty, isn’t it?”
I let out a tired sigh. “This isn’t about me, Five.”
“Whatever,” she says. “You want to know what I meant when I said ‘Poor Will’? I meant that he’s going to end up like the rest of them. Like Seth. Like Christopher. Just standing there with wilted flowers in his hand, looking all heartbroken and dumbfounded.”
“What? What are you…?” I can’t get the words out, though. Five narrows her eyes at me and continues to spew her venom.
“I should have known you’d take their side. You’re too damaged to be in love, so you don’t want anyone else to be.”
She darts up from the table, stomps across the room and slams the bedroom door behind her.
“You’d better be in there packing your stuff, because we’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” I yell after her. She mutters something so low I can’t hear it, but I’m pretty sure it’s in language unbecoming. I drop my doughnut on the table, wipe my hands on a napkin, grab my cell phone, and dial. When Mary answers, I don’t even bother to say hello.
“We’ll be there in two hours,” I say, then hang up. I don’t feel angry. I don’t feel upset. I don’t feel hurt. I stare blankly down at the half-mangled doughnuts on the table, and I don’t feel anything.
***
The ride home is long and silent. Five and I speak to each other only when absolutely necessary, and with as few words as possible. I feel strangely disconnected as I pull off I-10 and back onto the familiar streets I’ve known my whole life. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like my life. I feel like I’m just riding through someone else’s, going through the motions until I can get to a place I recognize.