by Lari Smythe
Chapter 19
Mom insisted Aunt Madd take me out for something to eat, but we returned for evening visiting hours. We didn't get to talk much because so many or the church women came by. There were all sorts of thanks and prayers for a speedy recovery and God's miracle that saved her. I wondered if there was ever a prayer said asking to bring back your vampire girlfriend—probably not.
Despite my objections, Aunt Madd insisted on staying when we got home. She stayed in Izzy's room, downstairs. That had a profound sadness—finality associated with it, like Izzy had just been passing through. It was warm for late February—by East Coast standards, but raining—more of a mist really. I peered out through my bedroom window and wondered how many nights I had spent doing the same thing back in Forks, watching, waiting, and hoping I would see Izzy. This time was different though; this time her absence was my fault. For all I knew she could be hundreds of miles away, sorry she'd ever even heard of me. I'd done the worst thing I could ever do—exposed the most primal part or her, the part she worked so hard to control, the part she hated. I thought about driving to Georgia, but knew they wouldn't be there. Truth is, I had no idea where to look for her—for the Faulkners—and so I couldn't. I was left with my newfound belief in God to just pray.
I didn't go to school the next day. I could have, but I really didn't want to face the questions and insinuations. Alex came by when school let out, but he seemed to realize I didn't want to talk about what happened so he didn't stay long. Before he left, he reminded me that baseball tryouts started Saturday.
Aunt Madd and I drove to the hospital separately in the evening. It took some work, but I got her to agree that I didn't need a babysitter and the hospital was on the way to her house. We decided not to tell Mom so she wouldn't worry. I stopped to ask the nurses how she was doing while Aunt Madd went on ahead. It was all happy sounds, but I didn't get the same reception a few minutes later.
"What's wrong?" Mom said when I walked in the room. Moms had a way of knowing stuff about their kids.
"Nothing, I'm good." I forced a smile and noticed the T.V. was on. "What are you watching?"
"One of the ladies from church had the evening news on." Mom shot the remote at the T.V. and the room fell quiet. "Have you talked with Izzy?"
Aunt Madd got up from the chair next to the bed. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go see the nursery?" She didn't wait for an answer and left quickly.
"Did she come by the house? Did you call her?"
"No, Mom." I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes; this was going to be embarrassing.
"Well, good news, Nancy," a nurse announced as she walked into the room. "Looks like they're going to spring you tomorrow."
I retreated to the window to hide my face. "That's great," I said to the glass.
"Well, I just thought y'all'd like to know—so you can make plans." Her footsteps faded out the doorway.
"Come sit down, Jason."
The vinyl groaned as I plopped down in the chair next to her bed. "What the hell." I burst into tears.
"There, there," Mom comforted. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."
"She's gone, Mom. She's really gone. This isn't like she's trying to find herself—she's gone because of me and there's nothing I can do about it."
"Izzy's a smart girl, I'm sure she doesn't blame you."
"You don't understand."
"I know you expect me to have some kind of answer, but I don't know what I can do. Maybe if your father—"
"Right!" I jumped up, sending the chair scraping across the floor. "He'd be mad as hell, wondering why I was crying like a freakin' girl. 'Get out there and find another one', right?"
The nurse poked her head in to make sure everything was alright.
"You just need to give it some time. I know you don't feel God's presence like I do, but it never hurts to pray."
I slumped back into the chair. "You want me to just pretend it never happened?"
"No, or course not. Just go through your everyday routine. Life doesn't stop, and if you just put one foot in front of the other—get on with your life, possibilities will present themselves. That's all I'm saying."
"You think I should go out for baseball?"
"You like sports. You're good at them. I'm sure that will keep you busy."
"I can't let this go, Mom—I'm not going to forget her."
She patted my cheek. "I know—just give it some time." She thought for a moment. "Finish out the school year and if you haven't heard from her by summer, I'm sure the police will be able to get in touch with her."
"Mom, it's not that simple—" What, I'm going to tell her the Faulkner's aren't in witness protection, that the police can't help? "—yeah, you're probably right."
Her smile was sincere, but misguided. My life—Izzy's life—our lives weren't so simple.
"So, I should probably come by in the morning to get you," I said.
"Doesn't baseball start tomorrow?"
"Sure, but—"
"I'm sure Madeline won't mind picking me up. You go be with your friends."
"Thanks. Guess I should head home—you sure you don't want me to come get you?"
"No, Madeline won't mind. You go on and get some rest. I'll see you when you get home from practice. You have a note from the doctor?"
"Sure, got it covered." I got up and headed for the door. "You sure—"
"I'll be fine. Good luck with tryouts, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
"Thanks, Mom."
I sat in the Jeep for more than half an hour when I got out to the parking lot, just watching the rain droplets form little rivers and run off the hood. Tryout for baseball? Seriously? Sure if Izzy were here it'd be great, but now, what was the point? The point was, Mom was right, I had to do something. I started the engine and headed for the Faulkner's place.
I killed the headlights as I turned off Park Hall Road into the field below the Faulkner's. I hesitated for a moment, not really sure if this was such a bright idea. What if Izzy was here? What if she wasn't? What if the Faulkner's were here, what would they do? "It doesn't matter," I mumbled, slipping the Jeep into first gear and then heading up the two ruts that led up the side of the mountain. When I got to the house I drove around back incase the caretaker was keeping an eye on the place like before. No need to attract any unnecessary attention. The house was dark, but that's what I expected—question now—front door or back?
"Hello?" I probed, slowly opening the backdoor. "Izzy?" It was stupid, but I braced myself for a sudden attack—stupid, because I'd never see it coming. "Hello?"
The view of the main room from the kitchen was eerie, like something out of one of those slasher movies with the furniture still draped with sheets. I stooped down hoping to see footprints in the dust, but it was too dark. Well, I made it this far might as well check upstairs.
Of course the stairs had to creak when I was halfway up the staircase. No way should I be afraid, but my nerves were on pins and needles. The first room on the left looked like it belonged to Izzy, but except for the draped furniture it was empty. I didn't really expect to find her, but I was disappointed just the same. The drapes glowed red with the pulsing tower light from Lambs Knoll. I went to the window, pulled the drapes back and paused like I'd done downstairs to examine the floor. There were footsteps in the dust, but they were old, probably from when Izzy came back to get her clothes.
"What'd you expect, Hollywood?" I whispered. Yep, this was stupid; I knew she wasn't going to be here. I dropped the drape and headed for the door, but I got this sudden feeling like I wasn't alone and turned back. The drapes hadn't completely fallen closed, so a thin beam of red light shown across the room. Dust was swirling in that beam.
"Izzy?" I whispered from the doorway, but there was no reply. "Listen, I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me. There's no excuse for what I did and I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but—well—I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. This isn't over—we're not over—we can't be
. Well, I'll be here when you're ready." So yeah, I was probably talking to an empty room, but it had to be said, just in case.
