“I wish Fay still lived with us,” Abe said—too loudly, because his hands were over his ears and he couldn’t hear himself talk.
I reached out and pulled his hands off his head. I shushed him, and whispered, “I do, too, Abe. But she doesn’t, and we’re fine. It’s your move.”
A dark part of me was bitter that he wanted Fay at a time like this. Jealous. I wanted to exterminate the mean parts of myself—the angry parts, the selfish parts. If I could just aim a can of bug spray at them and have them fall writhing to the ground, I’d be better off.
Abe drew a card and tapped his blue game piece around the squares of our old Sorry game board. From the kitchen, the sound of slamming cabinets and clanking pots grew more intense. Dad believed there was still a bottle of whiskey somewhere in the house, and that Mom had hidden it. She hadn’t, but there was no way to prove a thing like that to him.
I’d just keep Abe’s mind off it, and it would pass. This was just a minor backslide. Dad could get it back under control. Just yesterday after dinner, he took us for a drive. He said we should take advantage of the evenings while there was still a little daylight left. I’d always thought going for a drive in the country was boring, but it did remind me of being six years old. Mom even sang along with the radio like she used to. So this setback was nothing. It didn’t mean anything.
Abe landed where my game piece was, and he bumped me back to start. “Sorry!” he gleefully sang. “Revenge is sweet.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, but his eyes widened as a knock sounded on my door. Abe scooted back until he leaned against the wall by my bed, mostly hidden from view. I stood and opened the door.
“Celia, I hate to do this,” Mom said. Her eyes pleaded with me not to make a fuss.
“How much?”
“I think twenty ought to do.” She trained her eyes on the floor.
I walked to my dresser and opened the third drawer down. I fished the purple box from behind my stack of jeans, and opened it. I counted out twenty one-dollar bills and handed them to Mom. This was my tip money. I’d been giving her my paltry paycheck as long as I’d been working at Heidi’s, as my contribution to the household. The tip money had always been mine.
She took the stack of bills from my hand, her lips pursed. She didn’t meet my eyes as she said, “I’m sorry,” instead of I’ll pay you back. I wouldn’t be seeing that money again. Abe and I didn’t move from our places as she shut my door. We listened to her footsteps as she walked back to the kitchen. There was some murmuring, and then the back door swung shut with a thwack, and the car tires peeled out as Dad drove away.
Abe let out a big sigh.
I drew a card and moved my game piece. “It’s your turn.”
“I don’t feel like playing anymore.”
“Want to watch a movie instead?”
“Nah. He’ll be back, right? I’m leaving.”
“What are you talking about?”
His face contorted in anger. “I live here, you know. I know what comes next. And I’m leaving.” He got to his feet, toeing the game board and knocking over the pieces.
“You’re leaving?” My pulse thrummed in my ears. This wasn’t like Abe.
“Yeah. Why should I stay?” He stalked out my door and slammed it behind him.
A rising dread spread through me. I’d worried this would happen. Abe was too softhearted, too gentle of spirit to live in a house like this. I was hard enough to take it, but I knew it would take him down eventually. And there was nothing I could do about it.
I went to the kitchen, and found Mom at the table, her head resting on her folded arms. I wanted to talk to her about Abe. I wanted her to tell me he’d be fine. “Mom?”
“Abe went to Jeremy’s. Your dad will be back in a few minutes, but he’ll probably sit out back. Why don’t you just go stay in your room?”
I pulled out a chair across from her and sat down.
“I just want to be alone, Celia. Can I just have a few minutes to myself?”
Fine. I scraped my chair back across the linoleum. I’d go sit in my room alone. Maybe I’d practice putting on my new false eyelashes. That way I wouldn’t dare cry.
Twenty minutes later, I batted my eyes at myself in my bathroom mirror. They looked spectacular. Mom had turned on the kitchen radio and I could hear her singing softly over the light clank of washing dishes. Then the back door opened and closed, and Dad’s boots clunked around the kitchen. He said something about the price of whiskey. Anger made my throat raw.
I tiptoed to my open bedroom door and closed it without making a sound. I slipped on my shoes, put on a sweater, and absconded out my window. The crisp evening air woke up my lungs. I’d go see Paul. I didn’t know if he was home, but I could find him if he wasn’t. The swirling madness started up in my belly, the way it did whenever I thought about him, and I pushed my worries aside.
Only a few streets over, bright red fabric halfway up a tree caught my eye, and I paused. Closer inspection revealed it was a backpack, and beside it dangled a foot wearing a worn out sneaker that I knew was getting too small.
I gripped a low branch and swung myself up into the tree, heaving my body up a few more branches, thankful it was fall and my long clothing protected my knees and elbows from the bark. When I reached Abe, I straddled the branch beside him and held on to another branch for stability. He didn’t look at me, only glared out at the street through the sparse, yellow leaves.
“I thought you were going to Jeremy’s.”
He shrugged.
“I’m not going to tell Mom you lied, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
His head swiveled toward me. “I didn’t lie.”
“Oh, so you are at Jeremy’s? Has he moved into this tree?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I went there, okay? And now I’m here.”
I scooted down the branch so I could get a closer look at him. He face was red and blotchy. “What happened, Abe?” He didn’t say anything. I wanted to shake it out of him. “Tonight sucked, but one bad night doesn’t mean things are back to the way they were.”
“Things always go back to the way they were.”
“That’s true until the one time they don’t. It could happen.”
“It won’t happen, but that’s not why I’m in this tree.”
I reached out and flicked him on the knee. “What happened at Jeremy’s?”
He didn’t even flick me back. He leaned his head against the tree and looked up as he spoke. “I knocked on his back door like always. He opened the door, and I asked if I could hang out. His parents were at the kitchen table behind him. He asked if I could stay, and his mom said no, not tonight. She said he had to study for his science test. We do have a test tomorrow and I know he’s got a D in that class, so even though they’ve never told me I couldn’t come in before, I understood.”
He paused again, and I motioned with my hands for him to go on.
“Jeremy said he’d catch me at school tomorrow. He shut the door, and I sat down on their back step for a minute, just trying to think about where I’d go, because I didn’t want to go home. After a minute, I realized the door hadn’t latched, and I could hear his mom and dad talking.”
My heart dropped into my guts.
“I didn’t hear everything, but his dad said something about how I was over there practically every night. His mom said, ‘Not every night,’ and then his dad said it was close to it.” Abe paused to swallow. “Then he said he had a mind to come talk to our father. She told him not to. They were quiet a minute, and then he said it was like having two kids, and then his mom said I ate all the Doritos the other day. I didn’t eat all the Doritos, Celia. I just had a small handful. It was Jeremy who ate half the bag.” His voice cracked and he sniffled, letting his head fall into his hands.
My desire not to fall out of the tree prevented me from pulling him into my arms, but I scooted as close to him as I could and pressed one hand into his knee. “Abe, I believe you. You would never eat all the Doritos. I bet Jeremy offered at least three times before you even took any.”
Abe swiped his hand across his eyes and nodded.
“Listen, that was just adults blowing off steam. You know Jeremy’s parents love having you around. Like you said, they’ve never turned you down before, and it’s because they like you. Did you stick around to hear what they said after that?”
He shook his head.
“You’re like a brother to Jeremy, seriously like one of their own kids. And what do adults do? They gripe about their kids, and then they gush and carry on about how great they are. I wish you’d stayed and eavesdropped a little longer, because I’m certain you would have heard them say they loved having you around because you help Jeremy clean his room and you have way better manners than he does, and you’re a good influence, and you always help him with his math homework—”
“Okay, okay, I get it, just stop talking,” Abe said, and then pinched his lips together so he wouldn’t smile. “What are you doing out, anyway? What…what was happening at home when you left?”
“Mom just wanted to be alone for a while, but I didn’t really want to be alone. I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I think you’re right. We should go visit Fay.” She’d know what to say to him.
He smiled dimly and ran his hands through his hair, a move so reminiscent of Malcolm—whom he idolized—that I had to work to suppress my laughter. “Nah, it’s late. And I don’t need Fay. Not when I have you. Let’s just go home.” He reached out and squeezed my hand with his sweaty, soft one, before swinging his backpack up and on, and gripping the tree trunk as he made his way down. I gave myself a minute before I followed, pressing my scraped-up palm to my scraped-up heart and making sure the tears wouldn’t fall.