I hear him kiss her tenderly, and decide it’s time to make my presence known.
“Dad? Are you home?”
He turns away from my mom as I enter the kitchen and flashes me a smile.
“There’s my girl.”
I finch.
Girl, not girls, like it was only a few short months ago.
He notices my reaction and frowns. He has more wrinkles around his mouth than he’s ever had before.
“I’m okay.”
I won’t break.
He clears his throat and wraps his arms around me. “Hungry?”
“I guess so.”
I grab a plate and start piling pasta and sauce onto it. It smells delicious, but my stomach is suddenly silent.
We all sit down to eat like we always do. I don’t mind the time with my parents, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t monotonous and boring on occasion.
“How’s school?”
I look across at my dad. “Fine.”
“What colleges are you thinking about applying to?”
My applications need to go out soon—way too soon—and I haven’t been giving it enough thought.
“Not sure yet.”
His fork clangs against the bowl, dropping from his surprised fingers. “Violet, it’s crunch time. You need to get your applications in order, your admittance essays, I don’t know what you’re—”
“Anthony.” My mom places her hand over his, her eyes sliding to me. “Give Vi a break.”
“She doesn’t have time for—”
“He’s right.” I force a smile at my mom. “I need to get that taken care of.”
“I can help you,” he insists.
I stir the pasta around my bowl. “Thanks, Dad. I might take you up on that.”
I doubt I will. Even though I know he’d offer valuable advice, he’ll also want me to go to a certain type of school and get a certain type of degree. I don’t know what I want, and I won’t have it decided for me either. I know it doesn’t come from a malevolent place, he truly wants what’s best for me, but no one knows that but me. I just have to figure it out.
We finish dinner and I load the dishwasher.
“We’re putting a movie on, Vi, you want to join?” My mom calls from the family room.
The dishwasher clicks into place and I start it.
I want nothing more than to escape to my room with Will Ferret, but I also know moments like this are fleeting. In less than a year I’ll be off to college, starting my own life, and movie nights with my parents will be no more.
My chest aches with that realization. As much as my parents can bug me—doesn’t everyone’s—I love them wholly. They always wanted to be close to me and Luna, making time for special family nights. Ones I never missed, even when I was caught up in my own social life.
“Yeah,” I call back. “I’ll pop some popcorn.”
I pull the canteen of kernels from the pantry and fix them in the microwaveable popper with oil. I stick it in the microwave and push the button. I listen carefully to the pops and when they start to slow I pull it out before it can burn and add movie theater butter to it. The stuff is greasy and artery clogging, but it’s a popcorn must.
Carrying the popcorn with me to the couch, I curl up in the empty spot they left between them for me. I pull the blanket over top my crossed legs and exhale a breath.
Fast and the Furious comes on the screen and I smile at the old family favorite.
By the time the movie ends it’s late, and we all trudge our tired butts up to bed.
I ease my bedroom door closed and let Will out for a little bit. He runs in circles and twirls happily when I offer him a treat. When I feel like he’s tired out I put him away with promises to take him on a walk tomorrow—yes, I walk my ferret, he deserves fresh air too.
Drawn to the window overlooking the backyard I notice Finn’s figure in the distance. As if he senses me he turns and waves. It’s not a wave of hello, it’s an invitation.
I don’t hesitate.
I yank on a sweatshirt and put on some warm boots so I don’t freeze to death in the fall night. From what I could see from the window Finn was only in sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt, but while these temperatures feel downright artic to me, I’m sure it’s nothing more than a cool breeze to him.
I tiptoe my way down the hall and stairs, slipping outside.
If my parents ever get wind of my late night meadow adventures with Finn they’re likely to lock me in my room and throw away the key—the ironic part is I used to sneak out for far more nefarious reasons.
The tall grasses in the meadow brush against my clothed legs, making a rustling noise that is probably no more than a whisper in the night but sounds like thunder to my ears.
I reach the spot where Finn sits, one knee drawn to his chest and his arms draped over it. He quirks his head to the side as I join him, crossing my legs under me.
“You haven’t been using your telescope as much,” I comment, wiggling my butt around as I try to get comfortable on the hard earth.
He shrugs, rubbing his lips together. I look up at the stars, not expecting an answer from him, so I’m shocked when he does speak.
“I’m learning sometimes the things closest to us are worth seeing too. We see them every day and after a while we stop taking notice, but when you look with a sharper eye you find things you never spotted before.”
I turn my head, expecting him to be looking at the night sky, but he’s looking at me instead.
I freeze as his hand comes up slowly and his index finger gently touches my cheek. He pulls away and I squint in the darkness, staring at the tip of his finger.
An eyelash.
“Make a wish,” he murmurs, his voice deep and almost husky. “I don’t believe wishes come true, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth making.”
My eyes meet his for a second before he drops them, still not comfortable making eye contact, and I close mine, thinking of a good wish. When I have it my breath falls upon his finger and the eyelash disappears into the night.
“Why don’t you believe in wishes?”
He lies down, keeping his one leg bent, and tucks his right arm behind his head. His shirt rides up a bit, exposing a small sliver of his smooth stomach and dark hair beneath his belly button. He turns his head slightly in my direction and it makes me angry how much I want to fit my body into the curve of his left side. Back in Texas I had a few flirtations with different boys, but nothing that ever made me feel like this.
Like my heart is going to beat out of my chest.
Like my skin hums with a song only he can create with the barest touch.
Like gravity doesn’t exist and I’m floating through outer space.
I lay down, turning on my side to face him, waiting for his response.
“They never come true. I wished for my dad to come back—not for me, but for my mom and brother and sister. But it’s not the wish we need. It’s the hope.”
“You have a brother and sister?” I’m startled by this revelation.
“Yeah, they’re in college.”
“What are their names?” My curiosity gets the better of me. It’s so rare to get any tidbit of personal information from Finn. I don’t think it’s that he does it on purpose, he just doesn’t deem it necessary.
“Husten and Della.”
“Husten, Della, and Finnley,” I murmur, and a soft shudder of a breath passes through his lips like hearing me say his full name does something to him.
Lying down on my back I spread my arms at my sides and look up at the night sky.
I startle when his pinky hooks into mine but then smile to myself.
We stay like that for a while, twenty minutes at least, before he sits up.
“We should go to bed.”
“We should,” I echo, following suit.
But I don’t want to.
We trek through the grassy meadow and he pauses before we reach the spot where we need to part to head to our
respective houses.
He cocks his head to the side, and I can tell thoughts are darting through his mind.
“Goodnight, Nebula. You’re my new favorite part of the night.”
He takes off for his house, his long steps carrying him away in seconds.
I stand there stunned, but there’s no denying the butterflies in my belly.
Chapter Seventeen
Nebula.
Nebula.
Nebula, Nebula, Nebula.
The nickname repeats through my head all through the night and into the next morning. I looked up what a nebula was exactly, a giant cloud of dust floating out in space, but what stood out to me the most is some are where new stars form and that sounds pretty cool to me.
Will Ferret scurries through my bedroom as I get ready for the day. It might be the weekend, but I don’t plan to vegetate in my pajamas all day.
It’s nice out, but according to my phone a little chilly, so I put on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I swipe on a little mascara and gloss, it’s not much, and way less than I used to wear, but it makes me feel more put together.
Fluffing my brown hair around my shoulders, I exhale a sigh. I’m sure I did, but I can’t remember sighing before we lost Luna. It’s like sometimes I hold my breath without realizing and when I let it go it’s this mighty gust leaving me.
Slipping my feet into a pair of Vans I scoop up Will, give him a kiss, on his head, and put him back in his cage with a treat.
Downstairs, my parents are making breakfast together—my dad is preparing waffles, and my mom is cooking eggs and bacon.
“There you are.” She turns and smiles over her shoulder. “I heard you moving around.”
“Yeah, I was letting Will play while I got dressed.”
“You look nice. Going somewhere with the boy next door?” My dad raises a brow, a challenge in his voice.
I roll my eyes playfully as I slide onto the stool and cross my right leg over the left. “No and no. But I did think I might go grab a coffee or smoothie or something.”
“Do you need one of us to take you?” My mom asks. “You have your license, you’re welcome to borrow one of the cars for a bit.”
“Thanks, I might. Do you need help with anything?”
“Just put the plates on the table. We’re almost done with all of this.”
Someone looking in from the outside might think everything is normal, that my parents are already over Luna’s death, but I know better. I see the sadness in both their eyes, or the times my dad disappears and I know he’s left to drive around and cry to himself, or how my mom is cooking and baking incessantly to keep busy so she’s not constantly reminded of the way she used to spend her time worrying about Luna and trying to make things easier for her.
That’s the thing about grief, after a while people learn to mask it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not still there.
I hop up from the stool and distribute the plates and utensils on the table. Then I gather the syrup and butter, placing it in the middle so it’s easy for all of us to get to.
My dad carries over a plate piled high with waffles that’ll last a few days for the three of us. Luna, however, would’ve devoured as many as she could before our mom told her to stop.
Mom joins us with the eggs and bacon and we each pile a little of everything onto our plates.
“I think I’m going to try out for the play,” I insert casually, taking a bite of waffle.
Their eyes swivel to me. “Really?” My dad sounds shocked, and for some reason I feel mildly offended by that fact.
I shrug, pushing the eggs around my plate. “I wasn’t going to at first, but…” I hold off on finishing my thought of Finn asked me to.
“But?” My mom prompts.
“I thought it might be a good experience.” It’s not a total lie. If I get a part I’m sure it’ll be a great experience, but that’s not why I’m doing it.
“Oh.” She smiles, crossing her fingers together. “I think it’s an awesome idea.”
“But you didn’t do cheerleading this year.” My clueless dad interjects.
“I wasn’t interested.” It’s the easiest explanation since they don’t know the true reason.
“Interests change,” my mom pipes in. “And this is a very important time in your life. It’s important to try new things.” When I first spoke of joining theatre she didn’t understand, but I’m glad now she seems to be on my side.
“Yeah, I guess so.” My dad shrugs in agreement.
“I probably won’t get a part anyway.” I take another reluctant bite of food, it now sits in the pit of my stomach like a heavy and unyielding rock. “I’ll probably just end up working on sets or something.”
“Aw, honey, be optimistic.”
I force a smile, and don’t bother telling her I don’t really want a part.
I know Mr. Rochester will only give me a part if he feels I’m deserving of it, in which case I’ll accept, but it’s not something I’m dying to do. If I end up benched, it won’t hurt my feelings.
But I want to see Finn get a bigger part, to step out of his comfort zone and stop hiding in the background. If my auditioning gives him the support he needs, then I’ll do it.
We finish breakfast and I clean everything up, stacking the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and turning it on, then also scrubbing the counters clean until they shine.
I didn’t used to be bothered to do anything like this to help my parents. When it came to nights and weekends, I couldn’t dash out of the house fast enough to meet up with friends. I was selfish, not uncaring, but my world definitely revolved around me.
I’ve finished when my mom pokes her head around the corner.
“Your dad and I are going out for a while. He wants to get a snow blower before it gets really cold.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “Men and their toys. The keys to my car are on the counter.”
I look over to the catch-all bowl and find her keys resting in it along with some change, a pack of gum, and a receipt.
“Thanks.”
“Send one of us a text if you leave though, we … we worry.” Her face falls and once again I’m exhaling a deep heavy sigh, as if I’m weighted down by the burden I know she must feel.
“I will,” I promise.
I still feel horrible about the first day I went to theatre club and forgot to let her know.
She nods and gives me a forced smile before she turns and leaves.
“Bye, Violet! We’ll see you later!” I hear my dad call, and then within a minute or two they’re gone.
Since it’s still early, I decide to clean out Will Ferret’s cage. My happy little ferret dances giddily through my room as I take apart his cage and dump the dirty bedding in a trash bag before I carefully scrub the bottom of the cage and fill it once more with clean fluffy bedding. Little tufts of whatever it’s made of coat my floor like a downy snow. I grab the vacuum cleaner from the hall closet and Will eagerly tries to play with it. I don’t know why he likes it so much, I would assume most don’t but maybe I’m wrong.
With my room spotless once more I return the vacuum to the closet and pick up Will, plopping on my bed with him cradled in my arms.
He burrows his pink nose against my neck and I giggle when his whiskers tickle me.
“Hey, bud.” I rub the top of his head and I swear he smiles. “You’re the cutest ferret ever. I know all ferret mom’s probably think that, but I’m the only one who’s right.” I nuzzle my nose against his.
After a few more snuggles I tuck him back into his cage and he promptly climbs into his hammock.
I send a quick text to my mom, letting her know I’m leaving. I’m tempted to take the car, it’ll be quicker and I’ll have heat, but I know my days of using my bike are coming to an end until spring. I tuck my phone into my purse and deposit my purse into the basket before taking off.
Despite the cool temperature I stay plenty warm through the ride into town. I park my bike outside the coffee shop,
leaning it against the brick exterior. I head inside the bustling coffee shop and wait in line to place my order for a latte.
Once it’s in my hand, I start to leave, but a hesitant call of my name has me pausing before I can.
“Violet?” The voice calls again and my eyes land on a girl in a black turtleneck waving madly to get my attention.
I walk over, recognizing her from school but unable to put a name to the face.
“We’re in theatre club together. I’m Lydia.” Her inky black hair is tipped in blue and magenta tones. Her eyes are slanted and she has dark olive skin. If I had to guess her ethnicity I would say she’s Vietnamese.
“Violet,” I say before realizing what a ridiculous response it is since obviously she knows my name.
She smiles at me in clear amusement, but doesn’t mock me. “I see you hanging out with Finn.”
I nod, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. I don’t really know what she wants, since she’s yet to ask a question.
The coffee shop continues to bustle with activity as I stand in front of her, waiting for more.
“Sit.” Lydia points to an empty chair. “You don’t have to keep standing there.”
“Oh.” I toss a thumb over my shoulder. “I was just getting coffee and heading home. I don’t really have time to hang out.”
Aka: I don’t want to hang out. I don’t even know you.
Her face falls a little and her eyes look sad, but she quickly returns to a smile. “That’s okay. I’ll see you at school then.”
I walk out of the shop, confused and shaken by the awkward conversation. She’s never said a word to me, and even though I know I’ve seen her around school there’s not been any indication of her wanting to speak to me before.
I secure my coffee in the basket along with my bag and bike home as quickly as I can.
Spotting Finn sitting on his front porch stairs, I slow my bike and hop off.
Jack lies on the ground near Finn’s worn black Converse shoes. Finn’s dark blue eyes watch me from behind his glasses as I approach, my latte clasped between both hands so I can finish it before it gets too cold.
“Chai tea latte?” He looks up at me, squinting to see me against the sun behind me.
Whatever Happens Page 9
