by Jenn Bishop
I’ve set it aside to dry when Sadie gets back from hanging out with friends and joins me on the sofa. “Still no Tyler?”
I shake my head. All afternoon I’ve been running over our conversations from yesterday. Did I say something that upset him? Is it because Austin’s about to come home and his mom is still in prison? Is that it?
I don’t know what it could be, but I hate the unsettled feeling I have now. I need the Ron to my Harry. The Lane to my Rory? Maybe the Sookie to my Lorelai. I think that comes closest.
* * *
By dinnertime Tyler still hasn’t shown up, and I figure it’s a lost cause for the day. But if he doesn’t show up tomorrow, I’m asking Delia to take me to his house. Maybe he got sick? In any case, I need to make sure he’s okay.
For once Chris is home in time for dinner. He’s off the entire next week. We’re out on the back patio, about to dig into some Thai takeout, when the doorbell rings. Delia starts to stand up, but I tell her, “I’ll get it,” hoping somehow it’s Tyler.
“Sure you don’t mind?”
“Mom, she practically lives here,” Sadie says.
She’s not wrong. It’s funny how this place feels like a second home.
I open the door, and there he is. My conjoined twin. Except he doesn’t look as put together as usual. Tyler’s purple shirt is rumpled, and he’s wearing a pair of Adidas shorts that don’t go with the rest of his outfit. “Sorry for not coming over like regular.”
“It’s okay,” I say. I hate that the first thought running through my head right now is the real reason his mom’s in prison. Even more, I hate that Tyler was right. I can’t forget it. But there’s so much more to Tyler than his mom.
“When I was about to head over this morning, my mom called.”
“Did you talk to her?”
When Tyler nods, I detect the faintest traces of puffiness around his eyes. “I haven’t in a while though. I just let Grams talk to her. Like if I don’t talk to her, it’s not real.”
I get that. Maybe Mom and Dad thought sending me to Wyoming would make it easier for me not to think about Austin, but that’s not true. It’s impossible to forget when you’re two thousand miles away and he’s the reason.
“Emma?” Delia calls out from the patio. “Everything okay?”
“Do you want to stay for dinner? We just got Thai.”
Tyler points at himself and raises his eyebrows. “You’re eating me for dinner?”
I stroke my chin. “I’m still trying to decide which version will be the tastiest. Ty green curry? Pad Ty? Come on,” I say, reaching out my hand.
His palm is sweaty from the bike ride over, but he holds on to me tight.
* * *
In the middle of dinner Chris makes an announcement. Something came up with one of his coworkers and now they need someone to take over their Yellowstone reservations. Would we be ready to go on such short notice—leaving this Saturday, two days from now?
“This is perfect!” Delia grins. “What do you think, girls?”
“Sounds good to me,” I say, though I wish we could take Tyler with us. (Are we really that conjoined?)
Sadie’s arms are crossed as she stares down at her dinner plate.
“Sades?” Delia asks.
“I had plans for this weekend.”
“I know it’s last-minute,” Chris says, “but everything’s booked solid for later this summer.”
“Can’t I just stay home? I’ve already been to Yellowstone a billion times.” Sadie spears a piece of tofu and swipes it through the massaman curry sauce.
“But summer school is done now. I thought you’d be excited for a chance to skip out of town. Besides, this is a chance for us to get away as a family—”
Sadie shifts back in her seat, her fork clinking on the plate. “Last I checked, she’s not in our family.”
Chris folds up his napkin. “Now, that’s enough.”
“Seriously? You expect me to rearrange my whole summer for this girl I haven’t seen since I was a toddler and it’s not fair. It’s not my fault her brother got sent to rehab and her parents didn’t know what to do with her.”
“Sadie.” The spot between Delia’s eyebrows scrunches together, and this time her voice is sharp—stern, even.
I’m stuck. Glued to this chair in Wyoming, where I don’t belong in the first place. The thing is, I tried. I tried to take one for the team. I tried to fit in with this family. But Sadie’s right. They’re not my family. This isn’t my home. And I don’t belong here.
All I want is to disappear, to beam myself back to Massachusetts and somehow take Tyler with me.
As Delia and Chris lay into Sadie, I slip away. I’m padding down the carpeted stairs, heading for my room, when Tyler calls after me, “Emma, wait.”
Halfway down the stairs, I stop and sit, the tears spilling over, until Tyler’s warm body is next to me. There’s this long scar on his knee I don’t remember from before. When I look up from my hands, it’s all that I see. A reminder that I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. Not as much as we think we do.
“She’s a jerk,” he says.
“She’s right.”
“She just said that ’cause she’s mad she can’t do what she wants. She doesn’t mean it.”
At my house, Mom and Dad would never have let me run off like this. One of them would’ve stayed with Austin and the other would’ve come after me. Usually Dad for me, Mom for Austin. But I guess that’s what they’re used to. Two parents, two kids. You do the math.
But Delia and Chris, they don’t know how to do it. The math is still new. Never mind that Sadie’s right. I’m not their kid. I’m just a guest.
“They did it, though. My mom and dad, they did send me away. I didn’t have a say in any of it.” I swipe beneath my runny nose with my hand. “And the worst part is I was kind of glad to leave. Not them and my brother—everything else.”
“It’s stressful.”
“No, not that.” I shake my head. “It’s—” I squeeze my eyes shut, as if that will change anything. But even in the darkness, outside it’s still Delia and Chris and Sadie, yelling at each other. And inside I’m still me. You can travel two thousand miles, but you can’t get away from yourself.
I open my eyes. What do I really have to lose at this point? “I ruined my best friend’s life.”
Tyler stares back at me blankly. “Back home?”
“Yeah,” I say. And bit by bit it falls out. How much I liked hanging out with Kennedy and Lucy. How I’d finally found friends that “got” me. And then how it all came crashing down. Because those friends who got me, they didn’t get something else. That even if Becca wasn’t my best friend anymore, she was still my friend. I would never, ever want to sell her out like that. I never meant to.
But by saying what I did to Kennedy and Lucy, I did. I’d planted the seed. And in the spring, it finally grew.
“The whole school knows. The whole school, Tyler.”
“I know what that’s like.” He runs his hands over his knees. Outside it’s gotten quiet.
“What do you mean?”
“Try going from being known as the only gay kid who’s out in the sixth grade to suddenly being the gay kid whose mom got sent to prison for making meth.”
Ouch. Suddenly, Becca being known as the sixth grader who still has a kitty blanket doesn’t sound so terrible. “That must be hard.”
“Well, it wasn’t easy.” He eyes me. “You didn’t even flinch when I said it. Did someone tell you?”
I can’t look Tyler in the eye.
“Sadie?”
“Only this morning.”
Tyler takes a deep breath. “I thought if I told you, you wouldn’t want to hang out with me anymore. That you’d be mad.”
“At you?” He shrugs, and I shake my head. “You’re not her.”
“I know.” Tyler shifts in the stairway. “On the phone today, she said she wanted me to come visit her. Her fortieth birthday’s coming
up soon.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her I’d think about it.” He rests his head in his hands. “I don’t know, Em. I don’t know if I’m ready. Or what she’ll think if I come. I don’t want her to think it’s okay, that I’ve forgiven her already, because I haven’t. Do you know how long she’s locked up for?”
Sadie didn’t tell me, so I shake my head.
“Fifteen years.”
I don’t mean to gasp, but one sneaks out. That’s more years than I’ve been alive. So many I actually can’t imagine how long that would feel like.
“I mean, maybe if she’s on her best behavior she can get out a little early on parole, but by the time she’s out and free, I’ll be a grown-up.” His voice breaks on that last word. “God, how could she be so selfish?” Tyler’s hands are balled up into fists, and for a second I worry he’s going to punch a wall or something.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” He slowly uncurls his fingers. “I guess… I feel bad because I don’t think anyone else is visiting her besides Grams and Gramps, but I don’t really want to go yet. I’m not ready. I don’t know when I’ll ever be ready.”
“Emma? Tyler?” Delia comes to a stop at the top of the stairwell. “I’m so sorry, you two. I really—I’m ashamed of how we behaved tonight. All of us. You deserve better. I know the food’s gotten cold, but if you want, I’d love to take you out for some ice cream. What do you say?”
Tyler and I look at each other, and I can tell he wants to take her up on the offer.
“Sure,” I tell Delia.
Tyler and I take the back seat in Delia’s car. She’s quieter, not the normal chatty Delia. Is she embarrassed Tyler was there for all of that? One of her former students suddenly seeing her as a real person?
Finally she breaks the silence. “Now, I forget, Tyler, are you an only child or do you have siblings?”
“Just me,” he says. “Why mess with perfection?”
Oh, Tyler.
I wish he could come with us to Yellowstone, but even if Delia said he could, I doubt that his grandmother would be okay with it. When I get back, we’ll have only three weeks left together. Just thinking about that makes my heart twinge.
I know I need to go home, but every now and then there are these moments when I just want to stay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
By Friday evening we’re all packed up for the trip. Chris says we have to leave at the crack of dawn, which I have to say seems pretty unlikely given how late Sadie’s been sleeping in since summer school ended, but I let him believe that for now. Earlier, Sadie apologized for the things she said last night, and I forgave her.
The thing is, she isn’t entirely wrong. What she said was true; it just wasn’t nice. Sort of like what I said about Becca’s kitty blanket.
At least Sadie didn’t wait so long to make things right.
As the sun sets, I’m on the living room sofa trying to finish my buffalo book. I was making good progress on it before I got derailed with all the reading for the Becca box. Of course her favorite books have to be five-hundred-page fantasy novels and not something I could read faster, like comic books or graphic novels.
Now that I’m down to the last thirty pages and about to leave for Yellowstone, I’m even more excited to see bison in person again. Delia mapped out all the spots they frequent so we can maximize our chances of seeing them. Sadie’s now referring to the trip as BisonFest, which I think is a sign that even though she’s bummed to be away from her friends for a week, she’s not that bummed.
Dumbledore is licking my big toe—that cat, man—when my phone starts buzzing. “Mom?”
“Emma! So glad we’re able to catch you before you left! I wasn’t sure how cell reception would be in the park.”
“Hey, E!” Dad chimes in.
Ever since I’ve been in Wyoming, they’ve called this way. It’s kind of dorky, imagining them hovering over the same cell phone just to talk to me, but also kind of sweet.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, hon. Everything’s great,” Mom says. “We just got off the phone with the supervisor, and everything’s a go with your brother tomorrow.”
“He’s coming home!” I bolt up on the sofa, my sudden movement sending Dumbledore scampering off.
“He’s coming home,” Dad repeats. Only his voice doesn’t sound as excited as mine. He sounds almost worried, which is strange because out of the two of them, Mom’s usually the bigger worrier.
“He’s made really good progress over the past thirty days,” Mom says. “He’ll still be attending group meetings every day and seeing his counselor twice a week—at least to start.”
“Did you get to talk to him?”
“Not yet, nope,” Mom says. “But we’ve been sending him letters. There’s this local support group I started going to, up on the North Shore. It’s been really good to meet other folks who’ve gone through this. It’ll be nice to have their support when Austin’s back.”
“That’s great, Mom. Have you… have you told anyone in town yet?”
Dad clears his throat. “About that, Emma.”
“Actually—” Mom butts in.
“Let me say my piece,” Dad says, “and then you can say yours.”
My heart starts palpitating a little. My parents never used to fight, but it’s hard to ignore how they sound right now. Like they’re not on the same page at all.
“Sorry, Emma,” Mom says. For a moment there’s only silence, and I can’t tell if they’ve muted the phone for a second or if they’re just mouthing at each other.
“Your mom and I have had a hard time deciding the best way to come forward about Austin,” Dad finally says.
“So it’s still a secret?”
“Not exactly,” Mom says. “Once Austin is home, it’ll be easier to suss this all out, but for the time being, we’ve just been keeping things close to the vest. With Dad being in the public eye so much, it’s… it’s just tricky, is all.”
“Do any of your friends know?”
“Only Delia,” Mom says.
My heart breaks, thinking about how for the past four weeks, Mom’s gone to her shop and not been able to tell anyone what’s really going on. Not even Betsy? How has she done it? How has she lasted? I don’t know how I would have survived this summer if I hadn’t come here. If I hadn’t found Tyler.
“It’s not fair to Austin,” Dad says, “to go around spreading his private business. He’s just a kid—he’s just…” His voice is all choked up, and now I wish I hadn’t asked the question in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice starting to waver. I should be there with them for this, not two thousand miles away.
“Oh, Emma. No, no, no. You have nothing to be sorry for. And you’re going to have such a great time at Yellowstone. I can hardly wait to hear all about it.” Mom again.
“Take lots of pictures,” Dad says, his voice sounding close to normal.
“I will. What time are you picking Austin up tomorrow?”
“Three o’clock,” Dad says. “Cape traffic on Saturday will be a real beast, though, so who knows what time we’ll be back home. It might be easier to FaceTime on Sunday, now that I’m thinking about it. How about we plan on that, E?”
“In the morning?” With the time difference, that probably makes sense. It’s two hours later for them, and I don’t mind getting up early. Especially for Austin.
“Sure,” Mom says. “Nine o’clock your time, eleven ours? How does that sound?”
“Sounds good.”
“We miss you, kiddo,” Dad says.
“So much,” Mom adds. “It’s way too quiet here. I’m not ready to be an empty nester, that’s for sure. I think we’ll have to get a dog or something once you’re off to college.”
“Once I’m off to college? How about now? I want a dog!”
Dad laughs. “One thing at a time, E. One thing at a time. We’ve got plenty on ou
r plates right now as it is.”
I think about Dumbledore for a sec and how he’s maybe sort of grown on me. “What about a cat?”
They’re quiet for a second. “Let’s talk about that once you’re home,” Mom says. “We’d better rustle something up for dinner. Say hi to Delia and the crew and send them our love. I’ll text some updates tomorrow, but otherwise expect to hear from us bright and early Sunday morning, ’kay?”
“Okay.”
“Love you, Emma,” Dad says.
“Love you, too,” I tell them, and then click to end the call.
I flip back to that picture I showed Tyler, that one of Austin from last summer. I zoom in on my brother’s face, back before everything happened. Is that what he’ll look like when I see him on Sunday? Or will he look like the Austin I last saw, the one Dad had to practically babysit?
No. I shake my head, willing that image away.
He’ll be back to how he used to be. He’s better now. He promised.
* * *
Later that night, after I’ve finished the buffalo book, I tidy up the den. While we’re at Yellowstone, a cat sitter will come by to take care of Dumbledore, but I do not trust that cat around my Becca box. I make sure to stash all the stuff I’ve collected from Goodwill and yard sales in a few file boxes in the closet. I put the Becca box on the highest shelf. Dumbledore is too fat to jump that high. It’ll be safe.
At this point it’s about 75 percent complete, but that’s okay because I’ve still got another three weeks to work on it after Yellowstone. Plus, whenever I’m working on a shadow box, time away seems to help. With a weeklong break from working on it, maybe I’ll come up with some new ideas I wouldn’t otherwise have if I’d kept working on it every day.
Before he left earlier today, Tyler gave me his grandmother’s cell phone number, so we can stay in touch. He says I have to send him pictures of any and all buffalo I see. Easy.
* * *
When we get to the park the following day, it’s late afternoon. All four of us are sick of being cooped up in the car. Since we’re spending the first night at the Old Faithful Inn, Chris suggests we start with the park’s most famous attraction.
