The Secrets of Lost Stones

by Melissa Payne

  Now, Lucy, on the other hand, had a tendency to wander the house, and Jess had already found her inside her bedroom, staring at her bonsai trees or looking out the window. It was possible, she guessed, that Lucy could have found the picture during one of those visits. The damn drawer kept sliding out. She’d had to push it in a number of times already.

  Jess stared at Chance’s face in the photo and softened. She’d forgotten it was picture day, and he’d gone to school with his hair a mess of unkempt curls. She touched his face, felt a fresh wave of grief wash over her. It never got easier. He smiled up at her, his curls dancing above his wide, nearly toothless grin. She smiled back. He’d lost his four front teeth in a two-week span, leaving him with a gaping hole. He’d gone around for a week smiling and poking his tongue through the hole at Jess. Echoes of their giggles hit her like shards of glass. She closed her eyes, held the picture to her heart, and could almost feel the weight of his body leaning into the crook of her arms while she read him a book.

  From the hallway came the light patter of footsteps. Star? She ducked her head around the corner. The foyer was empty. She rubbed her eyes with one hand. She wasn’t sleeping well, and her tiredness had become a persistent partner, muddling her thoughts and making her see things wrong, like the mouse under Lucy’s bed and the coat-tree in the hallway.

  She was turning back to the kitchen when she noticed the music. It floated down the hall from the direction of the sitting room. Her leg muscles twitched, pushing her to where the music grew louder. She peered into the sitting room. The music came from a vintage radio that sat on a table by the window. She cocked her head and tried to pick up the tune, but the volume was so low she couldn’t make it out. She pulled at her fingers as she made her way across the room and the notes began to make sense. “Me and Bobby McGee.” The song was one she knew by heart, one she’d sung to her colicky baby because it was the only thing that would quiet his cries. One she remembered her mother singing after dinner, after half a bottle of gin and before she passed out on the sofa in front of the television.

  She wrapped an arm across her stomach, squeezed. She hadn’t told anybody about Chance’s funeral—she couldn’t bear the thought of sharing her grief with people she hardly knew. After Chance was born, she wasn’t interested in friends; she was focused on being Chance’s mother and working every minute she wasn’t with him to give him a life far better than her own. So it was just her and the small black casket and the minister. Afterward she sat huddled on the ground beside his grave, her eyes dry and sticky, her face chafed from the wind and the tears that came in waves. And she sang to him one last time, a song she’d never wanted to hear again.

  A surge of rage rushed through her body, and she fumbled with the dials on the radio until she turned the right one and the radio darkened, taking the last few lyrics of “Me and Bobby McGee” with it. Jess was left in a silence so thick it felt as though she stood at the bottom of a deep sea with miles of water pressing against her eardrums.

  Her wrist burned, and she looked down to see that she’d scratched it hard enough to leave red marks again. She studied the silvery white lines, ran her finger across the puckered flesh. The year after the funeral was gray and dim. She worked. She slept. She ate. She saw her son everywhere. And when she couldn’t take it anymore, she tried to join him. A sharp pain flashed across her wrist, making her gasp. The paramedics were at her door before she could do the other one. A fluke, because it was Mrs. Rodriguez who’d called 9-1-1 for Mr. Rodriguez, who was having another heart attack. The paramedics had busted through the wrong door. And Mr. Rodriguez had only had bad gas.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there, but the shadows outside had lengthened, which meant it was well past lunch. She inhaled sharply, surprised. It was unlike her to lose track of time like that. She hurried from the room and up the stairs to check on Lucy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  STAR

  She’d never met Chance’s mom. He’d wanted to introduce them, had invited Star over on more occasions than she could count for mac-and-cheese or pancakes shaped like snowmen and smiley faces. But she missed her own mother in a way that made her chest hurt. Chance eventually stopped asking, until one day he showed up at the fort with pancakes and warm syrup and a can of whipped cream. It was her favorite day.

  She rocked back and forth on the bed. Chance and his mom had been the perfect family. Star pressed her eyes into her palms, then shot to her feet. She shouldn’t be here. She grabbed an armful of clothes and stuffed them into her shopping bag from the other day. Her rock sat next to the note from Lucy on the bedside table. She reached for them both, paused, then swept the note and rock into the top drawer and stood undecided in the middle of the room. She’d leave as soon as Jess went to bed and—

  A soft knock rattled her door. “Star?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “What do you want, Jess?”

  She paused for so long, Star thought she might have left.

  “Can I come in?”

  She stashed her bag under the bed, checked her face in the mirror to make sure it didn’t look like she’d been crying, and, satisfied, opened the door.

  Jess stepped inside, and they stood facing each other, an awkwardness flaring up between them. Jess rubbed the back of her neck but didn’t speak. Star chewed on a nail, waiting. She couldn’t help but notice how the shape of Jess’s face mirrored the boy in the photo, her eyes the same soft brown. It was so obvious now.

  “I’m sorry for accusing you earlier,” Jess said. “I think Lucy probably found the picture in my room and unintentionally brought it downstairs.”

  Star looked down at the floor. She knew she should tell her who she was, but she was afraid that after Jess learned the truth, Star would disappear back into the system, where nobody cared about her like they did here. And that scared her more than anything. But Star couldn’t explain why Chance was here, could hardly believe it herself, despite what she had seen. Goose bumps raced down her spine. What did Jazz—Chance—want?

  “That picture you found . . .” Jess sighed.

  Star’s pulse thundered in her ears; she wasn’t ready to talk to Jess about Jazz. It was too much, and her spine curved forward from the heaviness of knowing. “I’m sorry about the police officer,” she said, hoping to change the subject.

  Jess scratched her head. “What? Why?”

  “For making you lie when I know you didn’t want to. I’ve been thinking that maybe you’re right about me.”

  “How so?”

  “That I should leave Pine Lake before I get Lucy in trouble.”

  Before Jess could answer, the antique lamp with the frosted white shade on the bedside table flickered on and then off in rapid succession. Star clasped and unclasped her hands. Jazz.

  Jess walked over to the lamp. “What the hell?” she said, and pulled the small chain, but the light grew even brighter until the bulb popped.

  A chill rippled across Star’s skin.

  “That was weird,” Jess said, unscrewing the blackened blub.

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that yours?” Jess murmured and bent over, peering at something on the floor.

  Star’s rock, the one she’d just put in the drawer, lay on the rug. She reached down and snatched it off the floor. “Yeah,” she said, and closed her hand around it.

  Jess stared at Star’s fist.

  “It’s just some rock I found when we went to the lake,” she said. “It has sparkles in it.”

  Jess shook her head, blinked, and her face softened into a small smile. “Hey, listen. You’re not a problem. In fact, Lucy perks up when she’s around you. I think you’re good for her.” She moved back toward the door. “I’m just worried that someone is missing you.”

  “Nobody’s missing me, Jess.”

  Jess nodded, and her mouth turned down at the ends. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Believe it.”

  She brought her hands up, palms out. “Okay, okay. We�
��ll table it for now,” she said. “Hey, I saw that teenage cabdriver when I was coming back from the lake this morning.”

  “So?”

  “He asked how you were doing. And if he could stop by and hang.”

  Star crossed her arms, pursed her lips. “With you?” she said.

  “Smart-ass,” Jess said with a smile. “He seems like he’d make a nice friend.”

  Star’s hand tightened around the rock.

  “Didn’t you have friends on the street, Star?”

  The question took her by surprise, and Star struggled to keep her emotions inside. “Not really.” The rock felt heavy in her palm. “I kept to myself.”

  “That must have been really lonely,” she said with so much compassion it made Star look away.

  If Jess knew the truth about her, she wouldn’t be so nice; Star knew that with a certainty that tied her stomach into knots. “I don’t need friends,” she said, but her voice carried with it a pathetic hoarseness.

  “Everybody needs a friend, Star.”

  She pressed her lips together, stared at her hands.

  Jess cleared her throat. “I’ve been homeless too.”

  “You have?”

  She nodded. “Twice. Once when I was a kid with my mother. We lived in an old van. It was only for a few months, but it wasn’t easy.”

  “And the second time?” But she already knew. That time had been with Jazz—no . . . Chance—right before they moved into the Lancaster.

  Jess hesitated. “The second time was my own damn fault. I got fired from a waitressing job after the owner grabbed my ass.”

  “Can they do that?”

  Jess smiled. “They could after I broke his nose with a serving tray.”

  Star gave her a tight smile. “Bet he deserved it.”

  “He did, but it put me three months behind on my rent. We got evicted.”

  They both grew quiet. Guilt gnawed at her, making it hard to keep from blurting everything out. Star held her breath, hoping the conversation would end there.

  Jess turned to leave, and Star felt her shoulders round forward. She opened her palm, stared at the rock, thought of Chance. Was he angry at her? Or, a small, hopeful voice asked, did he want to help her? She shivered. Lucy would know, and sooner or later Star was going to have to find out.

  Jess was looking at her, and for a moment Star felt her eyes get wet again. Chance had always smiled when he’d talked about his mom. She must miss him so much. She breathed in and tried to make the tears go away. “H-he died.” The words fell out so quickly Star wasn’t even sure if she’d said them out loud.

  Jess cocked her head to the side, looking confused. “Who died?”

  Star took in a ragged breath. She couldn’t believe she was saying it out loud, but she also couldn’t seem to stop herself. “The only friend I’ve ever had.”

  Her dad had been jittery that night, smoking one cigarette after another until a layer of smoke hung heavy in the apartment. It made Star’s eyes water and her nose itch. Her father paced the small apartment, his movements jerky, like he was one of those puppets with strings and someone else controlled him. Bastard owes me money, he mumbled, and gripped Star by her shoulders, the heated red glow of his lit cigarette inches from her cheek. Do not speak to him. Understand? He spoke through his teeth and had a look in his eyes that made her think of the stray dog who lived in the alley behind the building. Hungry.

  Before she could answer, he jerked away from her and disappeared into the bathroom, the door cracked just enough for her to hear him talking to himself. She’d thought of Chance then. Just that morning he’d told her that he was going to make oatmeal raisin cookies with his mom for his birthday. Her mouth watered. She’d never had a cookie like that. She glanced nervously toward the bathroom. The toilet flushed. Before she could change her mind, she grabbed the card she had made him and the only present she had, one of her mother’s bonsai trees. With the tree clutched to her side, she sprinted out of the apartment, not even bothering to close the door behind her, and into the stairwell, taking the stairs as fast as she could without falling or dropping the plant. Her heart had beaten so loud she could hear it thump in her ears. It was late at night; she didn’t know how late, but enough so that the apartments she passed were quiet, TVs turned down or off. She found herself standing in front of Chance’s apartment door. She brought her fist up to knock, hesitated, and dropped it back to her side. When did normal kids go to bed? If she woke him up, would his mom get mad?

  But Chance had said his mom was the nicest mom he knew, and besides, Star hadn’t wanted to go home. So she’d raised her fist again and knocked.

  Jess’s hand touched Star’s shoulder, making her jump. The rock lay in the center of her open palm. Had Jess seen it? She closed her hand and looked up, but Jess seemed not to have noticed the rock, staring down at her with her forehead creased, eyes bright with pity.

  Star clenched her jaw and stood. She didn’t deserve pity from Jess. “Guess what?” she said. “I’m hungry.”

  Jess’s face relaxed, and she smiled. “Shocking,” she said, and gestured for Star to follow as she left the room and walked downstairs.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  JESS

  She placed the last bonsai tree on a table in the sitting room, wiped the dirt from her hands, and stood back. The trees were soaked by the sun’s afternoon glow. She frowned. The light highlighted how lifeless the leaves had become. Something needed to be done, or she was going to lose all three. Maybe Jess should ask Star again if she’d help. It would probably be good for her to have something to focus on.

  Since Star had arrived, all Jess could think about was getting her back to where she belonged. But when she had offered to leave Pine Lake, Jess felt something tug at her heart at the girl’s stricken face, and in that moment, she couldn’t let it happen. At least not yet. Besides, Star’s youthfulness was good for Lucy; that was the truth.

  The doorbell rang, and Jess opened the door to Jeremy, who gave her a sheepish grin, his hands stuck into the front pockets of his jeans.

  “I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I’m a stalker.”

  She leaned against the door and smiled. He’d stopped by to see Star three times in the last two days. Star had turned him away each time. “You do seem to be trending in that direction,” she said.

  “Hey, but at least I stalk the old-fashioned way.”

  “As opposed to?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Duh, Jess, online. C’mon, you’re not that old. I’m sure even geezers like you stalk people online just like us young people.”

  He pantomimed snapping his suspenders, or at least that’s what Jess thought he was doing. She shook her head with a sigh. “You’re an old soul, Jeremy,” she said, and opened the door all the way. “Star’s in the library with Lucy.”

  He hesitated, losing his playfulness for a moment. “Shouldn’t you ask her first?”

  “Nah. I think she just needs a little push. Go on, surprise her.”

  He rocked onto his toes, looking unsure of himself.

  She smiled. “Are you scared of her or something?”

  His Adam’s apple moved slowly up and down his long throat. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered. “I think I am. She’s lit, you know?”

  Jess raised an eyebrow. “No, I do not know.”

  He clapped a hand to his forehead. “Cool—it means she’s cool.”

  She sighed and gave him a half smile, gesturing for him to come inside. “Get in here before I close the door.”

  He hopped inside, flashed her a wide smile, and loped down the hall. Jess shook her head and went into the kitchen to see what she could pull together for dinner. A few minutes later she heard the faint echo of Star’s laugh and was satisfied she’d done the right thing.

  She was wiping down the kitchen counters when Lucy appeared with Star and Jeremy tagging behind. “We’ll be back,” she said to Jess.

  “Where are you going?”

 
Lucy looked skyward. “Why does nobody check the calendar?”

  Jess sighed—that damn calendar—and squinted at the small square. Dinner, movie. She pointed to the refrigerator. “But I made lasagna.”

  “It’ll keep,” Lucy said with a pat on her shoulder.

  “You could come with us,” Star suggested.

  Jess tried to hide her surprise at the offer. It would be nice to get out, to do something other than work. But one glance at the hopeful look on Star’s face and Jess shook her head. She had to be careful how close she allowed herself to get to the girl, because neither one of them could afford the heartbreak that would happen when Star had to leave. “No, thanks. I’d like a quiet night here.”

  Star slumped.

  “Do you have a phone, Jeremy? In case Lucy needs me for some reason?”

  He pulled out a slim black phone and waved it in the air. “All set.”

  “Very well then,” Lucy said with a wave of her hand. “But if you’re in the mood to let loose,” she said with a wink, “I keep some liquor stashed in the library.”

  Jess couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a drink. Work always came first, and drinking never put her in a good place anyway. “Thanks, Lucy, but a good book will be all I need tonight.”

  After they left, she wandered into the library, hoping she could lose herself in a story for at least a little while. As she pushed open the door and flipped on the light, her eyes caught the corner cabinet to her left. A wineglass sat on a small silver tray next to a chilled bottle of chardonnay. Lucy.

  She walked over to the bar, intending to put the wine away, but she noticed that it had already been uncorked. Oh hell. Why not? She poured herself a glass before wandering over to the wall of books that towered above her head. She pondered her choices, feeling out of her depth. Reading was a luxury she didn’t often have the time to enjoy. She chose a slim volume at random and returned to the couch, book in one hand, wine in the other.