Happenstance: Part Two (Happenstance #2) Page 6

  I nodded.

  Patty winked. “We’ve got you covered, sunshine.” She jerked her head to the side. “Beat it.”

  My head moved forward, and my eyes bulged. “What? Now?”

  “Yep! I have your shift today.”

  “Oh no, Patty. Thank you, but I would give you more notice than that.”

  She giggled. “No problem, as long as you’re okay with it. I’d already discussed it with Julianne, and we’re prepared. And she’s right. You’ve worked your little tail off. Now go be a kid while you still have a little time left.”

  I looked to Frankie, who looked lost. “She’s right,” she said. “Go, kiddo. I’ll text your new hours after Patty and I talk.”

  The urge to move didn’t come. I just stood there, dumbfounded.

  Patty’s expression turned apologetic. “You don’t have to leave. I’m not kicking you out. Julianne only suggested it, and I assumed since Frankie said you had something to talk to me about, that was it. Was it?”

  I nodded.

  She grinned. “Okay then. What are you waiting for? Go get a pop at Sonic, or take Weston a dip cone. They’re still practicing, aren’t they?”

  “Just a little longer. They have their last game the week after next.”

  Patty looked to Frankie. “Make sure we take her off the schedule for that day. Weekends off too.”

  Frankie agreed.

  “I didn’t know,” I said to Frankie.

  “I know,” she said. “It wasn’t fair for me to get all Medusa on you. I told you before that you should ease back on your hours. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think you actually would. I’m just going to miss you.”

  Patty held out her hand. “I need your apron, Erin. Have a good rest of the day!”

  I untied the black strings at the small of my back and pulled the strap over my head, handing my apron to Patty.

  “You’re still going to keep me on the schedule, right? I’m not fired?”

  “Of course not, silly!” she said, playfully swatting me on the backside with the apron.

  A car pulled into the parking lot, and Patty turned her back to me, opening the window and greeting the family walking toward her.

  Frankie smiled at me. “I’ll see you next week. I’m okay,” she said with a forced smile. “I’m sorry. That was stupid.”

  “Okay. See you in a few days.”

  For some reason, I took a detour home to pass by Gina’s house. It looked the same. The windows were still dirty, the screen door was still hanging off-kilter, the porch still needed paint, the backyard fence was still broken. I wondered if she’d left my room the way it was, or if she’d sold everything. Nothing ever seemed to change there. I wondered if she cared enough about me that she didn’t want to look at my things, or if she was so relieved to get rid of me that she wanted to be rid of any reminder of me too.

  The garage door slowly closed behind the BMW, and I pressed the ignition button to turn off the engine. Silence. Absolute silence. Just me, the garage, and the new car smell.

  Julianne opened the back door with a big grin. “You’re home early! Did you talk with Patty?”

  I grabbed my backpack and shut the driver’s side door behind me, nodding as I passed her, heading straight for my usual stool at the kitchen island. She followed me and leaned against the stove with her arms crossed.

  “What’s up, buttercup?” she asked. “Patty wasn’t upset, was she?”

  I shook my head. “She said you already talked to her about it.”

  Julianne cringed. “Oh gosh, Erin, I hope that’s okay. I didn’t mean that she had to cut your hours. I just told her I was hoping you would want to, and that I was going to talk to you about it.”

  “It’s okay. I was going to…She just beat me to it.”

  “Oh. So…you’re not upset with me?”

  “No. But I need to tell you something. I think you’re going to be upset with me.”

  “Oh?” she said, suddenly worried.

  “I was going to wait until Sam got home, so I could tell you both.”

  “He has a late case.”

  “Then I’ll tell you, and maybe you can tell him?”

  She nodded and took a few steps until she could lay her palms flat on the granite of the island.

  “I, um…I went into Alder’s room. I was curious, not that it’s an excuse. But I saw her tub full of journals.”

  Julianne didn’t react. She just listened.

  “I read one. Not all of it. But I read a few entries.”

  Julianne dipped her head, and after several seconds, she wiped her eye with her wrist.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I won’t go into her room again. The worst part is that I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway.”

  Julianne looked up at me with wet eyes. “You’re not the only one.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’ve always known that she kept journals. I’ve been reading them too, since she died. Curiosity is an awful trap, isn’t it?” she said, sheepish. “But, Erin…You shouldn’t read any more. You won’t like it.”

  “You sound like Weston,” I said, looking away.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He said the same thing. That I shouldn’t read any more. He acted really weird about it.”

  “Really? What else did he say?”

  “Nothing else.”

  She fidgeted. “He came by today.”

  “He what?”

  “He told me you were reading Alder’s journals, and he told me to tell you to stop.”

  Weston had left art to tattle on me? There had to be a reason he didn’t want me to read the journals. He wouldn’t just try to get me into trouble with Julianne. Something was in there that would hurt me, and he knew about it.

  “Why would he do that?”

  She looked down, troubled. “Alder is different than we thought, Erin. Some of the things she wrote are…upsetting. She knew things. Things Sam and I had no idea about. And…” She shook her head. “I haven’t read all of them. It was too hard. I haven’t told Sam. I’m not sure how he would react.”

  “I’ll keep it between us.”

  “Thank you,” she said, relieved.

  “Julianne? Is there anything in there about me? I mean that I should know.”

  She hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Can I read them?”

  “I don’t know how to answer that, honey.”

  “I think…I think I have to.”

  MY BLACK CONVERSE KNOCKED AGAINST THE BLEACHERS AS I climbed to the top. The baseball team was running laps, their T-shirts soaked in sweat, their faces red. I hadn’t been seated for more than five minutes when Coach Langdon called practice, and they ran to the dugout.

  After a short meeting, they began filing out to the parking lot, including Weston. After a few moments, he ran back in, looking up to where I sat. He jogged up the bleachers, taking two at a time until he reached me. His arms wrapped around me, and he pressed his lips against me. His skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, but he could have been covered in toxic waste, and I still wouldn’t have complained.

  “I was just getting ready to drive across the street, and I saw your car in the parking lot. What are you doing here?”

  I shrugged. “Just thought I’d come watch you practice since you don’t have many left.”

  He looked out on to the field. “I can’t believe it’s my last year. I’m going to miss it. For the most part. Prom. Graduation. Then it’s all over.”

  “Have you talked to your dad about Dallas?”

  He shook his head. “He’s too excited about Duke, Erin. Every time I think about bringing it up, it doesn’t seem like the right time.”

  “There isn’t a right time for something like that, and you’re going to wait until you run out of time.”

  “Maybe he’s right. Maybe Duke will be good for me.”

  “So you want to be a lawyer?”

  His face twisted into disgust. �
�No.”

  “Weston,” I said, turning his dirty, sweaty face toward me. “You have to tell them. You only have one life. One shot. Don’t waste it on someone else’s dream.”

  His eyes danced back and forth to each of mine. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  I looked down, embarrassed.

  “Do you have a date for prom yet?”

  I shot him a look. “You know I don’t.”

  “Will you go with me?”

  I shook my head. “We talked about this already.”

  “That was when you didn’t have Julianne Alderman for a mother. She’ll help you find a dress.”

  “I can’t ask her to buy me a dress.”

  “You don’t have to. Just tell her I asked you to prom.”

  “I don’t dance,” I said, squirming.

  He held my necklace between his thumb and index finger. He leaned down and kissed it and then moved up to my neck.

  I sighed, moving my chin to the side, stretching my neck just a tiny bit to give him better access.

  He pulled away and frowned.

  “What?” I asked, surprised at his reaction.

  “You don’t smell like ice cream.”

  I chuckled. “I was barely at work today. Patty took over my shift, and my hours have been cut to give me more free time. Julianne’s request.”

  One side of Weston’s mouth turned up, and then his mouth stretched into a full-blown grin.

  “Thank you, Julianne.” He looked down at my lips and then moved toward me, kissing me softly at first. His mouth opened, and I welcomed his tongue with mine.

  “Please go to prom with me,” he whispered against my mouth. “I don’t want to go by myself. I don’t want to go with anyone but you, and it’s my senior year. I don’t want to miss it. Even if we only stay long enough to pose for a stupid picture.”

  “I understand your dilemma, but I really don’t want to go.”

  “Well,” he said, his lips moving to my ear, “sometimes we have to do things we don’t like to do. It’s a good life lesson.”

  “You’re right. If you break the news to your dad about Duke, then I’ll go to prom with you.”

  He sat up, shocked at my proposal. “That’s not fair, Erin.”

  “You just said—”

  “I know what I said. But prom and pissing off my dad are not exactly the same thing.”

  “It’s close.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’ll go to prom if I tell him I want to go to Dallas? What if he says no?”

  “That’s between your dad and you. But if you tell him, I’ll go.”

  “Deal.”

  “Really?” I said, suddenly feeling sick.

  “You better start looking for a dress now.”

  I swallowed.

  We stood, and Weston intertwined his fingers in mine, walking with me down the steps and out to my car.

  “Why don’t you follow me home? My parents won’t be home for a couple of hours.”

  “Remember what Sam said?”

  He nodded. “He said to keep my hands off someone else’s wife. But you’re not going to be someone else’s wife.”

  “Slow down, speed racer.”

  “You know what I mean,” he said, opening my door.

  “I’ll see you in a minute,” I said, ducking into the BMW.

  I lay there, resting against Weston’s bare chest, wrapped in his arms. The ceiling fan was whirling above us, the picture he’d drawn of me just overhead.

  “I love that you wear this every day,” he said, touching my necklace.

  “I love that you gave it to me.”

  “I love you.”

  I sat still, wondering if what he’d just said was really what he’d just said. He’d alluded to being in love with me before but never actually said it. Not so direct. Not out loud.

  “Erin?”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You’re glad,” he said flatly.

  I closed my eyes, knowing I’d upset him. “I want to say it. It just feels weird.”

  “Would you mean it?”

  “I think so.”

  “You think so.”

  “Stop doing that,” I said, sitting up and pulling my arms through my bra straps, and then my shirt over my head.

  He sighed, clearly regretting the turn of the conversation.

  “It’s scary, Weston. Even if you go to Dallas, you’ll be five hours away. We’ll live separate lives. No one stays together when they go to different colleges.”

  “You don’t know that.” He frowned. “Why do you have to be so negative? We’re going to see each other as much as we can. We’ll talk on the phone every night. We’ll stay together, and then you’ll come visit me and fall in love with Dallas, and you’ll move there after you graduate.”

  “Is that so?”

  He sat up against the headboard. “Yes.”

  “I’m not being negative. I’m being realistic. I don’t want either of us to get hurt.”

  “If we don’t stay together, it’ll hurt. It’ll tear me up. I don’t want anyone else.”

  “Weston, you’re eighteen. You don’t know what you want.”

  He stood up and slipped on his jeans. “You definitely don’t know what I want.”

  I finished dressing and tied my shoes. “It’s just common sense. We live in a fishbowl here, but there are thousands of young, beautiful women in Dallas.”

  “There’s only one you.” We were standing on opposite sides of his bed, staring at each other. He shifted his weight, nervous. “Are you…are you saying this because you plan on meeting someone new in Stillwater?”

  “No!”

  “Sounds to me like you’re keeping your options open.”

  “God, Weston, that’s not it at all.”

  His breathing faltered, and he looked around on his floor, then saw his inhaler on his nightstand and grabbed it. He shook it, then took a puff.

  “Why are you getting so upset? Why do we even have to talk about this now?”

  “I’d kind of like to know if the girl I love sees me as temporary.”

  “Blackwell is temporary.”

  “I’m not even staying here!”

  “I know! I’m just not making any promises I can’t keep.”

  “Well, that’s just great. Thanks, babe.”

  My shoulders fell. He was fighting dirty. “I have to go home.” I walked around his bed to his door, but he stood in my way. He took a deep breath, touched my arms, and pressed his forehead against mine.

  “Homework?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I want to read Alder’s earlier journals. I want to know why they quit talking to me.”

  He stiffened. “I thought you weren’t going to read them anymore.”

  “I changed my mind. Julianne kind of doesn’t care.”

  “What?” he yelled.

  I leaned away from him, stunned by his explosive response.

  “They’re none of your damn business, Erin. It’s wrong, and you know it!”

  I blinked and then gritted my teeth. “Move.”

  “Fine.” He stepped to the side, and I stormed out, passing Veronica on my way.

  “Erin?” she said.

  “Sorry, I have to go.”

  When I got to my car, Weston caught up to me, breathing hard. “Don’t read them, Erin. Just don’t do it.”

  “Why not? What are you afraid I’ll find?”

  His jaws worked under his skin, and he swallowed. After a few seconds without an answer, I got in my car and drove home.

  I parked and ran up the stairs, straight to Alder’s room.

  “Erin?” Julianne called after me.

  I shut the door and leaned against it, out of breath. Alder’s closet door was shut, and I glared at it, knowing now that whether it was right or wrong, I had to read them. I had to know what was so terrible that Weston didn’t want me to continue.

  I marched over and swung open the do
or, dragged the tub out of the closet and into the middle of her room. I pulled all of them out, one by one, until I got to the plastic diary, skimming over the descriptions of dreams and boys she liked. Once I finished reading that diary, I moved on to the binders. I wanted to skip over to her journal from our fifth-grade year. That was when they’d stopped talking to me, but I forced myself to read one at a time.

  Fatigue began to set in when I opened the yellow, plastic, covered binder titled 5TH GRADE. Any mention of me was like before. We were still friends. She still liked me. On a few occasions, she talked about asking her parents if Sonny and I could join them on their family vacation, and Sam and Julianne were considering it. I flipped the page to the entry I’d been searching for.

  Most of the entries after that were about how much they hated me, and what mean things they did and said to me. Sonny’s parents had never gotten a divorce, so I assumed they had worked it out, but it wasn’t until I got to the binders that I fully understood. Sonny’s father and Gina had an affair. Harry had gotten Gina pregnant. I shut the binder. The Erins were half sisters.

  That’s why they hated me. They thought Gina and I had nearly caused Sonny’s parents to divorce.

  “Gina,” I whispered, flipping the pages.

  That was what Carolyn was talking about at the restaurant. Gina’s daughter had been a reminder, an object at which Carolyn could direct her anger. After the accident Carolyn figured out that she had welcomed Harry’s illegitimate child into their home, taken her on vacations, and bought her Christmas and birthday presents. In a strange twist of fate, Harry helped raise his own daughter, even when he thought he was ignoring her to save his marriage.

  My thoughts drifted to Gina. Sonny’s parents were quite a bit older than her. He was part owner of a prosperous fabrication plant just outside town. He would have to have been in his early thirties when Sonny was born—when we were all born. Gina wasn’t even old enough to buy alcohol when she got pregnant, and she never spoke about the man we both thought was my father.

  A sudden sympathy weighed me down, making me feel so heavy, I felt stuck to the floor. I’d been so angry with her, but the truth was, we both knew what it felt like to be hated by everyone. To have no one. To learn early that the best defense was to shut everyone out, even those who try to help. She was too broken to be my mother; it wasn’t that she didn’t want to be.