“Wait, so now we’re bros? Then you definitely have to stay in tonight. You know, in solidarity.”
By unspoken agreement, they talked about their current relationships but didn’t discuss sex. Jamie had only been dating Amanda for a couple of weeks so they were nowhere near that stage yet, and Emma didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by bringing up the things she did with Justin. This meant that while Jamie knew she was going out with Justin tonight, she didn’t know about the overnight plan. Could she cancel? She liked Justin. She’d even dreamed about making out with him the other night. Of course, Tori and her light brown eyes had made an appearance, too, and U-19 World Cup qualifying started in a couple of months, which meant they’d be spending even more time together…
Her phone alerted again: “Never mind. Have fun tonight. I promise I won’t watch until we’re both free.”
Emma typed quickly. “Hold your horses, bro. I’m in. Let me text Justin and then we can make a plan, okay?”
“Really? ’Cause I don’t need your pity, Blake.”
“Are you kidding? I can’t wait to watch Arsenal get their asses handed to them.”
“Don’t you mean watch Man U get walloped?”
“Dream on. I’ll text you back.”
“Sweet.”
She switched back to Justin’s message, fingers still hovering over the keyboard. She couldn’t really cancel their sex date by text, could she? Sighing, she hit the phone icon by his name.
“So hey,” she said as soon as he picked up, “I’ve got some bad news. I sort of have to cancel.”
“What? Are you serious? Why?” He sounded angry. He definitely sounded angry.
“Well, I have this sick friend…”
He didn’t even let her finish. “A sick friend? No, really. Are you being totally serious?”
“Yes, I’m being serious.” She tried not to be irritated by his tone. They had been planning this night all week; it made sense he would be disappointed. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”
“What about tomorrow night? Can’t you get rid of your brother then?”
“No, I can’t just ‘get rid of’ my brother, Justin, even if I wanted to. It takes planning.”
“Even if you wanted to?” he repeated. “Nice, Emma.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.” His voice changed as he switched gears. “Come on, your friend doesn’t really need you. That’s what parents are for.”
“Nice, Justin,” she threw back at him. “How empathetic of you.”
“What friend are you even talking about? I don’t remember anyone at school being sick.”
“A girl from travel soccer. No one you know.”
There was silence for a moment, and then he said, “Tell me it’s not that Jamie chick.”
Well, damn. She had not seen that coming.
“It is, isn’t it? Are you fucking kidding me?” he said, his voice rising. “You’d rather talk to some dyke on the phone than spend the night with your boyfriend?”
“Don’t you dare call her that,” Emma said, her voice low and dangerous. “And for the record, you’re not my boyfriend anymore.”
“Emma, come on.”
“Fuck off, Justin.”
She ended the call and sat in her car, heart pounding loudly in her ears. What an asshole. How had she not realized this sooner? Probably because in addition to being a homophobic twat, he was a liar. Before they were officially hanging out, back when he was still trying to get her to go out with him, she’d mentioned Jamie as a sort of litmus test. She knew he had to have heard the rumors Josh’s friends had spread, but he’d only shrugged and said, “My cousin’s gay. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Had he only said that to get into her pants? To think it had almost worked. At least he’d let the mask slip sooner rather than later. Imagine if she’d found out what he was really like after she slept with him.
Her phone rang. Justin. She hit ignore and sent him a quick text: “I’m done. Don’t call me.”
She waited a second to see if he would call again, but he didn’t. A text popped up instead: “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I was bummed about tonight. Give me another chance?”
As if. She started a new text, but before she got very far gave up and hit the call button. She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as the line rang and rang. When she heard the voice she was waiting for, she launched in: “Why are high school boys such douchebags?”
“Uh-oh,” Dani said. “What did Justin do?”
“He called Jamie a dyke.”
“What the hell?”
“I know, right?”
“What a moron. I don’t get it. Why would he do that when you guys were about to hook up?”
“Welllll…”
“Emma, what did you do?”
She confessed her role in the disagreement quickly, knowing that Dani wouldn’t pull punches. That was one of the things she loved about her—Dani could always be counted on to tell it like it was.
But: “Okay,” was all she said when Emma finished, her voice uncharacteristically reserved.
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”
“Is that all I’ve got? You’re the one who cancelled sex with your boyfriend so you can talk on the phone with the girl who likes girls. To be perfectly honest, it kind of seems like you might have something you need to tell me.”
Emma pictured the door to the classroom where the GSA met. “I know, Dan. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. It’s just, I’m here or whatever. You know?”
The question was, would she still be after Emma told her the truth?
“I know,” Emma repeated, closing her eyes briefly. “Can I come over tonight after Jamie and I watch soccer? I don’t really want to stay at my house alone.”
“I was about to say the same thing. I mean, I don’t think Justin would try anything, but he can be kind of a hothead.”
Emma was glad she wasn’t the only one who had worried about that. “Can I bring Lucy? I don’t want to have to come get her later.”
“Of course. Ginger has been missing her buddy.”
“Cool. I’ll call you later then. And thanks, Dan.”
“You don’t have to thank me. Duh.”
When they hung up, Emma immediately texted Jamie. “Home in ten. First game in fifteen?”
The reply came while she was driving. She pulled up to a stop sign, checked to make sure there wasn’t anyone else around, and read, “Yesssssss!!!!!”
God, she was cute even in text. Emma sighed and tossed her phone into the passenger seat. Dani was so going to kill her.
Her cell rang again as she was pulling into the driveway. Better not be Justin. But it wasn’t. Instead, her mother’s cell number flashed across the screen. That was strange. Weren’t they supposed to be out on the ocean all day swimming with dolphins or something? Maybe they’d checked up on her and found out that she’d never planned to stay the night at Dani’s house. Briefly she considered not answering, but she knew it would only add to her parents’ displeasure. Anyway, now she really would be staying with Dani. Plausible deniability, that was the ticket.
“Hey, Mom,” she said, forcing herself to sound cheerful as she parked in the driveway and turned off the engine.
“Emma.”
Her neck tingled. From the heaviness in her mother’s voice, she knew immediately: Something awful had happened.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Where are you?”
“In the driveway. Jamie and I are going to watch soccer before I go over to Dani’s.”
“Is Ty with the Chandlers?”
“Yeah, he went home with Benji on the bus. What happened? Is it Grandma?”
“No, it’s not your grandmother. Emma, I need you to do something for me.” But she stopped and didn’t continue.
A thought occurred to Emma, but she told herself it couldn’t be. St
ill, she asked: “Where’s Dad?”
She heard what sounded like the rustle of fabric against the receiver. Then her mother came back, and this time she lapsed into what Emma and Ty called her “charge nurse” voice. “I need you to get to your brother. I need you to go to the Chandlers’ house right now and call me back when you get there. Do you understand?”
Emma’s heart raced. Her eyes felt strange, as if there was a pocket of air between her and the rest of the world. “Where’s Dad?” she repeated.
Her mother breathed out long and shaky. “Please, honey, can’t you just do what I’m asking?”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” Emma said, shaking her head even though her mom couldn’t see her. “You have to tell me, Mom. Did something happen to Dad?”
And then her breath caught as she heard her mother’s muffled sobbing. What had she done? She should have put the car in reverse and driven the two miles to Benji’s house. But she couldn’t move. Not until her mother said the words.
“Something happened to him, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” her mother admitted through her sobs. “Oh, god, Emma, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried, but we should never have been out on that boat. I should have known. I should have seen it but I didn’t and now he’s—he’s…”
“He’s in the hospital?” Emma finished for her, willing the words to be true.
“No, honey. I mean, yes, we’re at a hospital, but we didn’t make it in time. Your father had a heart attack. We did CPR but by the time we made it back to shore, he had been down for too long.”
A heart attack? Didn’t make it in time? What did that even mean? But she knew. She had grown up shadowing her parents around the hospital. Better than most people her age, she understood the euphemisms medical professionals used to describe death. Her mother meant that she would never see her father again. Not ever.
She should feel something, shouldn’t she? Something other than this profound sense of unreality? The tears kept falling, so she knew that at some level her mind was processing her mother’s terrible news. But it was like she was one of those prehistoric creatures who had suddenly been swallowed up in a mountain of ice, flash frozen with the remnants of her most recent meal still in her stomach.
“Emma?” her mother asked. “Honey, are you still there?”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Yes, I’m here.”
Her mother breathed out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to tell you like this. I wish I could be there with you. I wanted you and Ty at least to be together. I didn’t want you to be alone for this, Emma.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I should have gone over there. I don’t know why I didn’t.”
“No, sweetie, it’s my fault. Of course you would want to know what was wrong. I’m not thinking very clearly right now.”
Emma stared through her windshield at the basketball hoop that hung on the garage. The night before they left for Hawaii, he had shot baskets with her and Ty even though Ty kept whining about how cold it was outside. “I don’t understand. There was nothing wrong with his heart.”
Her mother didn’t say anything.
“Wait, did you know there was something wrong and you didn’t tell us?” she asked, her voice climbing.
“There were some warning signs, yes, but no indication that it was this far along. There was no way of knowing, Emma.”
“But you said you should have known.”
Her mom sighed again. “Maybe I should have. After all, it is my job.”
It wasn’t her mother’s fault; she knew that. And yet the tiny spark of anger felt so much better than the Titanic-sized numbness. She squeezed her eyes closed as hard as she could as if she could blot out the world simply by refusing to see it. This couldn’t be happening. She had talked to him a couple of days ago. He was so excited about the hikes they’d taken and the chance to swim with dolphins again. He couldn’t actually be gone. She would wake up and this would all be a dream, an incredibly vivid, oddly true-to-life dream and she would lie in her bed in the dark feeling her heart rate slow, thinking how relieved she was that her dad was still around even if it sometimes felt like he had these sharp points that hurt if she got too close. She would wake up and he wouldn’t be gone. She would wake up.
“I need to tell your brother,” her mother said, “and I’m hoping you can be with him when I do.”
“Right.” She opened her eyes. “I’ll go right now.”
“Do you really think you should drive?”
“I’m fine.” Emma wiped the tears from her face. Thankfully, they had dried up. Or maybe they were frozen like the rest of her. She turned her key in the ignition, and the car beeped out its seat belt warning even though she hadn’t undone the belt yet.
“Emma, I’m serious. If you don’t think you can drive, then don’t. I couldn’t handle it if…”
“Mom,” she said, “I’m fine. I promise. You know I wouldn’t drive if I thought I couldn’t, not after what happened with Jeff.”
Dani’s older brother had done three months in County for vehicular assault after nearly killing a ten-year-old kid in another car. His experience had served as a cautionary tale for pretty much all of Shorecrest High.
“All right, then,” her mother said. “Call me when you get there. I’ll get in touch with Karen and Mark and let them know you’re coming.”
“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“I love you, Emma, very, very much. I wish we were all together right this second.”
All of us somehow now meant only the three of them. She had worried that he would leave again, but in every scenario she’d envisioned he was still in the world, still somewhere he could return from just as he had the last time.
“Me, too, Mom. I love you.”
They hung up and she set the car in gear, and then she stopped and put it back in park. She scrolled through her calls and hit send.
“You ready to watch your boys lose?” Jamie asked, her voice hoarse.
Emma had forgotten she was sick. “You sound like crap.”
“So do you. Are you sick, too?”
“No. Jamie, actually, I need to tell you something.” But like her mother a few minutes earlier, all at once she couldn’t find the words. This was it. This was the first time she was going to have to deliver the news she would be retelling for the rest of her life. My father died. My father is dead.
“Are you all right?” Jamie asked. “Were you in an accident? Do you need me to call someone?”
“I’m fine. It’s—it’s my dad.” She stopped again. Why was this so hard? But she knew. As soon as she said it out loud, it would be real and nothing could undo it. Was this what her mother had felt on the phone? Was this what Jamie had felt when she told her about the assault? She remembered the way Jamie had seemed to fold in on herself at the beach that day. If only she were here now to keep Emma from falling.
“Is he okay?”
“No. No, he’s not. He had a heart attack.”
“Oh my god, Emma.” Jamie stopped and waited at the other end of the line.
Emma tried to figure out how to say what needed to be said. At last she settled on her mother’s phrasing: “He didn’t make it.” Her voice cracked and she felt the ice threatening to recede. “I have to go find my brother. I can’t watch soccer.”
“Of course,” Jamie said quickly. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you okay? Can I do anything?”
“No. I mean, go ahead and watch the games. I don’t know if I will.”
“Emma, I don’t care about soccer right now. I care about you.” It almost sounded like she was crying. “I wish I was there with you.”
“You do?”
“I really do. I’m supposed to be your anchor too, remember?”
Tears welled up in her eyes again, and Emma shook her head. She couldn’t cry, not now. She had to get it together and be there for Ty. Losing their father was going to be so much harder on him.
“I should
go.”
“Okay. Yeah.” Jamie hesitated. “I’m thinking about you. Sending you lots of love, okay?”
Love? Emma leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. “Me, too, Jamie.”
They sat in silence for a while, even though Emma knew everyone was waiting on her. Finally her text alert sounded. It was her mom, checking to see if she was with her brother yet.
“I really do have to go,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
“I know. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. I wish you were here.” She regretted the words as soon as they escaped. Even though Jamie had already said the same thing, she had been through enough. She didn’t need to have all of this dumped on her, too.
“So do I. Call me when you can, please? Anytime. I’ll leave my phone on tonight, okay?”
“Okay. I don’t know where I’ll be, but I’ll try to call you,” she promised.
“Good. I’ll talk to you later, then?”
“Yeah. Later.”
After another pause, she forced herself to end the call. Then she shot her mother a quick text—“Sorry, on my way”— started the car again, and headed across town. At her neck lay the silver pendant Jamie had given her for Christmas: a spiral sun meant to keep her warm, she’d said, through the chill gloom of a Seattle winter. Emma held onto the pendant now as she drove through the gray afternoon, trying to wring from it every last bit of imagined warmth she could.
Chapter Seven
JAMIE HELD THE PHONE in her hand, the Man U-Porto kick-off frozen on the TV screen before her. Meg had orchestra rehearsal on Fridays so she was alone in the house. Brushing her tears away, she left the den and headed into the living room to wait for her parents, who worked at the same software company in the city. While her dad was usually at work at least an hour before her mom, they commuted home together most evenings.
When she heard the key turn in the front door, she jumped up from the couch and ambushed them before her mom could even put her purse on the dining room table.
“I need to talk to you guys,” she said, rubbing the soft, shaved hairs at the back of her neck.
“What’s wrong?” her mother asked, and stepped toward her. “Have you been crying?”
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