“But she’s kept her figure after all these years.” Aunt Bev smiles. “You’re so beautiful.” Standing next to me, she strokes my arm.
“You’ve seen Mom?”
“From a distance. I’ve always respected her space.”
“I didn’t even know you still lived in Burlington.”
“It’s what your parents thought best. I knew someday you would look for us.” She pours from the kettle into a teapot now.
“But I thought you had moved to another part of the country.”
“Sooner or later, you would have discovered the truth.” She sits down beside me, placing the teapot on a trivet.
“I didn’t know about the E. coli.” I hesitate. “I’m so mad at Mom. I would have gladly done anything to keep Kim alive.”
“It wasn’t anybody’s fault.” Aunt Bev bites into a cookie, and I watch as her eyes turn teary. “But your mom just couldn’t give up on Kimberly.”
“What are you talking about? She should have insisted on a kidney transplant. Mine had to be a perfect match.”
Her tears spilled over. “Kimmee was so weak, honey. I couldn’t allow it.”
“But Mom said …” I stop.
“No doctor around here would consent to a live organ transplant from such a little girl. You would have had to be at least sixteen. Your mother found a doctor in India, but we couldn’t go along with it. It was too big a risk.”
It makes sense. I can picture Mom at my bedside trying to get me to squeeze her hand or to blink my eyes long after everyone else has given up on me. “She should have let me visit Kim.”
“Maybe. But she went so quickly, and you were very young.” She hugs me. “Don’t waste your time being angry.”
She’s right. With only Monday left, I have no more time to waste. “Do you think Mom would be ready to see you?” I ask her.
“After all these years, I hope so,” Aunt Bev answers.
Maybe with some luck, they would bond again, and then when Mom needed to pull the plug and let me go, Aunt Bev would be there for her. “I have an idea,” I say, “let’s all go out for Chinese.”
Aunt Bev likes the idea, so for my last supper together on this earth, I call Mom at the store and tell her we should meet at the Mandarin.
“For a Canadian, Chinese, Japanese kind of smorgasbord?” she asks, laughing.
“Yes. I’m embracing my roots. Mixed as they are. Mom? Aunt Bev and Uncle Jack are coming.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath. “I see.” Then there’s a long silence. Finally, she speaks. “It’s probably time. Okay, then. We’re locking up now. We should be there in twenty minutes.”
No argument from her, even though I put her on the spot. That was easy.
Uncle Jack arrives home as I set down the phone. “Well, look who the cat dragged in,” he says in a pleased voice. He’s lost most of his hair since I last saw him, and he looks shorter, if that’s possible. Like Aunt Bev, he’s put on weight.
“Don’t get too settled. We’re meeting Paige’s parents for dinner.”
“Really?” He looks me over slowly, his face opening like a sunrise. “Just see how beautiful our girl turned out.” He smiles. “Everything we could have imagined.”
It was exactly what I would have wanted my biological parents to say if I could have found them somehow. Uncle Jack and Aunt Bev instantly fill a hole; maybe it’s the one Kim and I were always digging.
Uncle Jack opens his arms. I stand up and step into his bear hug.
After a few moments, Bev taps my arm. “Time to go. Let’s get our coats.”
Jack holds Bev’s out as she slides her arms in. Then we all head out to the car in the driveway. They’ve replaced their larger four-door sedan with an electric blue hatchback. Kind of zippy and tiny for such slow-moving big people. I slide behind the pushed-up seat.
We beat my parents to the restaurant, so we put our names down for a table. When they finally arrive, I watch Mom hesitate and stumble over her words. “It’s been so long, it’s so good …” One hand lifts, then the other.…
Aunt Bev rushes to hug her. The dads shake hands and lie about how they haven’t changed a bit. One set of parents looks too thin and the other too heavy. They all look a bit sad and tired. Everyone and everything has changed.
The hostess interrupts to show us to the back, a room almost to ourselves.
By this time tears shine in Mom’s eyes. “We’ve let too much time go by.”
“I wish we could have been there for you,” Dad adds.
Uncle Jack shakes his head. “Seeing Paige today is just perfect.”
The waiter stops by, and I ask for chopsticks. He whisks away my cutlery and lays down a package.
“I’m a little nervous about eating here,” Mom says.
To say the least, I think. How do they feel about sitting and dining with Kim’s parents after everything that happened?
“All that food sits out under hot lights for a long time,” Dad agrees.
“Don’t worry. This is a popular place. They replenish the dishes frequently,” Jack tells them.
“Let’s get up there,” I suggest, and we line up behind the other diners. I take shrimp, sushi, egg rolls, a steamed dumpling and something that looks like a stuffed dead leaf. I think it might be authentic Chinese. Back at our seats, I fail several times to lift the brown leaf bundle to my mouth. Finally, I lower my face and scoop it in. Instantly, I begin choking.
My mother rubs my back. “You’re not supposed to eat the lotus leaf.”
It’s dry and tasteless and doesn’t dissolve, so I spit it into a napkin.
“The dim sum chef steams food in the leaf to give it a good color and aroma,” Bev explains.
“You’re supposed to hold the chopsticks more like a pencil,” Mom continues.
“Okay.” I drop the chopsticks with a sigh. “I’ve changed my mind, Mom. Let’s go to China.”
“Well, that’s a big leap. From the buffet to another continent,” Dad says.
“I always wanted to take Kim,” Bev says.
“We were going to take you together; that was the plan,” Mom says, frowning.
“Why don’t we still do that?” I suggest. “The more the merrier.” Is there even a million-to-one chance I can avoid that train tomorrow? Avoid some other death that may replace the train accident? Will Mom and Bev somehow stay in contact after my death? In my mind, I picture them going together despite my death.
Everyone gets along well. It’s as though the tragedy of Kim’s death had bonded us instead of creating that seven-year rift. Mom is going to inquire at the travel agency next to their store about a group discount for five. Bev says to call her with a time and she will meet her there with a list of must-go- to places. We start tasting foods from each other’s plates. Mom accidentally eats some beef but doesn’t make a fuss about it.
When the tea comes at the end, I open my fortune cookie. It says: Destiny has other plans for you. I shudder.
MONDAY:
D-day Morning
This’ll be the day that I die. It’s the line from one of my parents’ favorite songs, but it’s also true. I leap out of bed the moment the alarm sounds at seven, greedy to enjoy much more of the day than last time, when I buried my head under the pillow. After I dress, I head to the kitchen and pause when I see Mom staring out the window watching the sunrise.
“Good morning.” Mom sips from her coffee.
I sit down beside her and look outside, too. A thin line of orange glows along the horizon.
“Why did you make me think it was Aunt Bev who wanted the kidney transplant? Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”
The horizon swells with a bump of bright gold.
She turns to me. “Because I was ashamed.” She sips again. “I was so wrong about it.”
The bump becomes a perfect small orb, the gold spreading around it.
“How do you know? Kim could have been alive today.”
She shakes her head. “Did
you ever hear the story of wise King Solomon and the two mothers?”
“This is from the Bible, isn’t it?” The sky transforms now. Clouds begin to light up in pink and gold.
She nods.
“When’s the last time you took me to church?”
“Never, but I thought you might have studied it in school, literature or something.” As she speaks, the sky continues to open into soft Popsicle pinks and purples.
I can’t believe I missed this display last time.
“Anyway, two women come before King Solomon, both claiming to be the mother of the same baby boy. One of the women had accidentally killed her son by rolling over in her sleep.” Mom pauses and drains her cup. “King Solomon tells his guards to cut the baby in half and give each mother a piece.”
“But that would be killing him. Neither would get a live child.”
“Exactly. So one steps forward and tells the king to give the whole baby to the other woman. At least he would stay alive.”
“Oh, I have heard this one. So the king declares that woman the real mother because she loves him enough to save him, even if it means giving him up.”
“That’s right.” Mom looks up at me. “So tell me, Paige, which mother was I?”
“Oh, come on. Giving away one kidney isn’t like cutting a baby in half.”
“Taking a severely ill child to India? Risking a healthy child?” She shakes her head. “Bev was right. This way, at least one child lived. But maybe I was the wrong mother to keep her.”
“How could you even think that?”
“Because Bev made the sacrifice without even asking. And I couldn’t even share you with her and Jack.”
“What do you mean ‘share me’? I was your adopted daughter. There was never any question about that.”
“But we cut off all contact. We said it was for your sake because you were too young to deal with death. But it was really because I couldn’t share you.”
The sunrise is complete now, and the sky looks bright and clear. No snowstorm today? No volleyball team at school to beat us up, except for Kierstead. No walk along the track necessary? Maybe the fortune cookie’s different plan does include a longer life. My heart double beats with hope.
I lean over and hug Mom tight, feeling her bones against me. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I hug her some more, and my body feels curiously lighter. When we let go of each other, I smile, feeling open like that sky outside. Maybe all those family secrets clouded our horizon for too long. For the first time, I look at Mom without feeling angry. “I think you were meant to be my mother right from the moment I was conceived. It was destiny.”
Mom smiles back. “All things considered, you must be right.”
Dad joins us and we enjoy our granola and chia seed cereal together. “Looks like the meteorologists were wrong about that storm they predicted. It’s a perfect clear day.”
Predictions can be wrong, fate can change. If it doesn’t snow, maybe I can live.
Only outside the window, I now spot one feather-like flake drifting to the ground.
“Anyway, we’ll shut down early if it does turn into a storm. You should come straight home, too, Paige,” Mom says.
Coming straight home, that could work. I wouldn’t be on the track at the same time as before. “Yes. I won’t volunteer at the library today.”
We all head out together, like so many other times in our life. But this may be the last time for me. I hug them both and blink back tears. As the van drives off, I wave till I can’t see them anymore. I will miss our daily routine. I will miss them, my family, crazy mixed-up and mismatched as we are. If I can’t make fate budge for me, I will miss life.
I walk a few blocks and meet up with Jasmine.
As we stroll toward school, I tell her about our dinner at the Mandarin and the plans being made for a two-family trip to China. I also explain about the kidney transplant.
A few more feathers of snow drift down. A chill runs up my spine.
“Wow, your mom is a brave lady.”
“Maybe she’s too tough for her own good. Kim’s mom seems to have recovered and gotten on with her life.” I stop and glance at Jazz. If I have to die, I need to save her. That’s why I came back. Helping Jazz will make up for the best friend … sister I couldn’t help. “Did you explain to your mom about Cameron?”
“I tried. But she’s not hearing me. She calls Cameron a cake boy. Cripes, it was Max who baked the cream puffs.” She marches along quickly.
The snow feathers perform pirouettes, now. My heart sinks. The weather is playing out exactly the same as my last death day.
“Secrets weigh you down, Jazz.” To save her, I need to convince her. “I didn’t even know my family had any. But I feel so much better now understanding everything about Kim.”
“Yeah?” She looks at me.
“I can’t cover for you today. I promised my mom I would head straight home. ’Cause of the storm.”
“Oh, come on. I need you. I don’t get to see Cameron at all on Sunday.”
“Bring Cameron to my house after school. I’ll ask Max, too.”
“What if Mom spots us?”
“She thinks he’s safe, remember? You have to wear your parents down on the dating thing. You have to, Jazz. Promise me.”
“Okay, okay! Here come Cameron and Max.”
Thankfully they’re both agreeable to hanging with us at my house. So I’ve managed to change our school leaving time. And nothing can make me take that shortcut along the track again. There will be four of us walking together, one of us being the love of Vanessa’s life. Surely she won’t beat us up in front of Cameron if she still has feelings for him.
We head off for our separate classes. In English, we finish Romeo and Juliet. Mrs. Corbin reads the last scene out loud to us. You can tell she loves Shakespeare and she makes me love it, too. But Romeo and Juliet still die in the end.
I feel sick.
When the bell rings, I wait till everyone leaves. “I just want to say, Mrs. Corbin, that I never liked English class until you taught it.”
“My goodness. Thank you, Paige.”
“You’re welcome.” I smile and leave. As I step into the hall, someone bumps into me, shoving me into the wall.
“Good work, Banana.” Kierstead puts her face right close to mine, and I swear I can smell smoke on her breath, the liar. “You killed the volleyball team. After school, I’m gonna kill you.”
Those words. Will she be my new fate, my new death?
I stand up to her, anyway. If things can’t be changed, why should I cower?
“Kierstead, even if you kill every girl at school, Cameron’s not gonna go out with you.”
She steps back. “What are you talking about? He’s Van’s boyfriend.”
“You knew that was over, didn’t you? He just felt sorry for her. He was itching for someone new.”
“Shut up.” She rams me against the wall and heads off.
Max runs over. “What did you say this time?”
“I was hoping to persuade Kierstead to leave Jazz alone. But it didn’t go well.”
He loops his arm through mine. “No career in diplomacy for you.”
Later, in gym class, Mrs. Brown asks me if I want to play on the volleyball team. A few spots have opened up.
I grin, still hopeful, and answer, “Sure.”
But the snow starts coming down harder at noon and buries the streets by second break. For that lunch, I eat poutine at Max’s suggestion. “It’s got all your fat needs for the week in one meal,” he tells me.
It will have to satisfy my fat needs for my lifetime. My last lunch on death row. I like the salty gravy. And the texture of the melted cheddar over the softening fries.
Someone is watching me, though. I can feel the eyes. I whip around and see Kierstead, her face screwed up as she stares.
I give her the finger.
She winks.
We arrive at F
rench class at the same time, but I notice she’s texting on her phone right from start to dismissal. I will Madame Potvin to notice. But she doesn’t.
“Your attention, please,” Mrs. Norr’s voice sputters to life over the intercom. “The school will be closing at dismissal due to the storm. No library, gym or Environment Club.”
With Kierstead’s texting, the former volleyball team has to know that we’re leaving the school at 3:15 sharp today, although they can’t be certain of our route. On the bright side, there is nothing smeared on anyone’s locker.
MONDAY:
D-day Afternoon
Max and I dress as warmly as we can. He even picks up a hat from Lost and Found.
“Oooh. You’ll get lice.”
“Over frostbite and amputated ears, I’ll take bugs.”
We meet Jazz and Cameron at his locker. I feel I should at least warn them about Kierstead’s texting. I won’t need to use prior knowledge of those Facebook plans I saw the last time I lived through this day. But when I tell them, neither seems to take it all that seriously.
“Really, what are they gonna do?” Cameron asks as we head for the door. “There are two guys with you, don’t forget.”
“Oh, against ten girls? You figure that’s an even playing field?” Jazz says.
Max pushes open the door, and the wind blasts snow up against us.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky.” I raise my voice over the wind. “How can anyone see anything in weather like this?”
“Anybody got any money? We could grab a cab,” Jazz suggests loudly.
“No,” Max says. “Happy engagement to Beena, remember?”
“I’ve got five bucks. That’s not enough for bus fare, is it?” I ask.
Jazz shakes her head. “One of my uncles is a bus driver. He’ll tell my parents. Let’s just walk along the tracks. It’s quicker, anyhow.”
The tracks.
She’s right, waiting for the bus might take forever. Still. How is the storm affecting the train’s schedule? Can we predict when one will come? I swallow hard as we struggle through the drifts and wind. “On one condition,” I announce.
Best Friends Through Eternity Page 12
