Chapter Nineteen
The walk is torturously long and quiet. Neither of us seems to be able to think of anything comforting to say, so we both hold our misery inside. My mom stares at us when we arrived back at my house, eyeing us carefully. We hardly look like we had an enjoyable morning together. When she asks if something is wrong, I nearly lose my composure and starts bawling right there on the doorstep. My grandpa handles the question much better, thankfully.
“No, no, Judy. We went for a walk and ended up going a little too far. I think we’re both just a little worn out.” He lies surprisingly well.
“Well, why don’t you stay for dinner then, Alden? Robert will be home in a few hours,” she says.
My grandpa glances at me and nods his acceptance quickly. I sigh. He doesn’t want to leave me alone, but I can’t stand sitting around staring at him all afternoon, not when he knows the truth.
“I think I’ll go take a nap,” I say. I somehow manage a faint smile at my mom. “I’m beat.”
“That sounds like a good idea, honey. I’ll wake you for dinner.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I kick off my shoes next to the door before starting for my bedroom. I don’t know if the dream will come during the daytime, but what does it matter if it does come? I know what will come next. There is no denying it now. I just wish I could have seen my brother one last time. I will miss his smile and endless pranks. He never fails to lighten any situation.
Thoughts of David enjoying his college life, unaware that fate has somehow claimed me for its own, fill my mind. Exhaustion sweeps over me. Sleep is all I want, dreams or no.
“Oh, Arra,” my mom says, handing me a slip of paper. “Tanner called this morning. He wanted you to call him back.”
I briefly wonder how he got my phone number, since it isn’t in the phone book yet, but I suppose the mom network that seems to exist no matter where you live took care of that pretty quickly. I am certain my mom had something to do with it. Thankful to have a phone jack in my new room, I retreat to my bedroom. I quickly dial the number and wait.
On the third ring, a hesitant voice answers. “Hello?”
“Tanner? This is Arra,” I say. “My mom said you called.”
“Yeah, I did. Um, thanks for calling back.”
Silence.
“Did you call just to say hi, or, uh…was there something else?” I ask. Fatigue is overriding my manners. Realizing how rude that surely sounded, I quickly add, “I had a lot of fun yesterday.”
“Did you?” he asks. “I wasn’t sure. You seemed kind of upset when we were eating.”
I wince. I have never been any good at hiding my feelings from others. Last night was obviously no exception. I wonder if this is the last time I will speak to Tanner. That really doesn’t help me come up with any words to soothe him. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I didn’t mean to be such an awful date.”
“You weren’t awful, you were great,” he says. “It’s just that sometimes you seemed kind of sad or something. I hope it wasn’t anything I said or did yesterday.”
“No, of course not, Tanner. It’s just that the move has been kind of rough, I guess.”
“Yeah, I bet. I can imagine it’s been kind of a shock after what you were used to in Manhattan,” Tanner says. “I’m glad you’re here, at least.”
“Thanks, Tanner. I’m actually glad I’m here too,” I say and mean it.
“Then what is it?” he asks.
What can I possibly tell him that will actually make sense? “It’s just some family stuff. Things have been a little tense for me this past week.” It is so much more, but how can I tell him any more than that? I want to. I don’t want to leave our short relationship at a phone call. Sitting under the moonlight wrapped in his arms would be a much better way to say goodbye. I want that moment.
“Hey, Tanner,” I say. My voice sounds shaky and strange to my ears. Hopefully Tanner doesn’t hear it as well.
“Yeah?”
“You know the park down the street from my house?”
“Sure.”
I can’t believe I am about to say this. “Would you meet me at the park tonight? I just need to get out of the house and maybe talk for a little while. That is, if your offer to listen is still good. I don’t want to pull you away from something.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and I panic. What is he thinking?
“What time?” he asks.
I breathe in a sigh of relief. “Nine o’clock?” I can definitely convince my parents I’m going to sleep by then. I don’t even have to fake being tired.
“Sure, Arra, no problem,” Tanner says. “I’m happy to listen whenever you need me.”
“Thanks, Tanner. I’ll see you tonight then,” I say.
“See you tonight.”
I wait for the inevitable dial tone before releasing my grip on the receiver and dropping it back onto the base. My last ounce of strength seems to evaporate as soon as the phone leaves my fingers. I can hardly believe he agreed to meet me. I have barely known him for two days and I go and ask him to meet me at a park after dark.
Although thoughts of sitting next to Tanner at night are dancing in my head, I’m not worried that he mistook my invitation for anything other than a chance to get away from my house for a few hours with a friend. Tanner is sweet and sincere. I feel safe and happy with him near me. I need to feel that way again, even if it only lasts a few hours.
Planning to sneak out does leave me feeling a little guilty. If I just ask, my parents would think about it and play the overly concerned parents for a while, but given that the park is less than a hundred feet from my house and my dad can probably stand on the front porch and watch us if he really wants to, I’m sure they would agree. The fact that my dad can watch us is the biggest factor for sneaking out. David may be in college, but my dad is hardly ready to see me grow up. No, letting them believe I am in bed is the best way to go. I need some time away from any reminders about what tomorrow will bring.
In Tanner’s arms, I can pretend that I will see him again the next day and that he will actually pick me up Saturday night to go to the bonfire on the beach. With him, I can pretend everything is fine for one more night.
Pulling a thin blanket over my shoulders, I drift into a dreamless sleep. It only lasts a few hours, but it is a welcome break all the same. The timid knock at my door barely registers in my weary mind. The knock comes again, a little stronger. I stir, but don’t answer right away.
“Arra, honey, wake up. It’s time for dinner,” my mom presses.
“I’m not hungry,” I complain. My head is groggy and I can’t seem to get my eyes to open all of the way. Wondering how long it has been since I had a good night’s sleep, I shove my face deeper into the pillow. How many nights since the dreams started? I don’t want to count anymore. I don’t want to think about dreaming or photos or anything remotely connected to my bizarre heritage.
“Arra, get up,” my mom says a little more harshly. “Everyone is waiting on you.”
“Fine,” I say, tossing the blankets back.
“If you would sleep and eat properly, you wouldn’t be so tired all the time,” my mom mutters under her breath as she backs away from the door.
“If only that was all I needed,” I whisper.
Trudging from the hazy room, the brightness of the kitchen and its heady aromas fill me. Pot roast with brown gravy and homemade mashed potatoes. One of my absolute favorites. My mom must still be pretty worried about me. At least she’ll believe me when I tell her I want to go to bed early after dinner. She will probably want to tuck me in herself. I step into the kitchen, and green beans smothered in butter and garlic push a little more of my sleepiness away. My mom is a wonderful cook. I will miss her cooking immensely.
“Well hello, sunshine,” my dad teases. “Did you two have a nice day together?”
I nod a little too enthusiastically as I try to look sincere.
; “We had a nice walk,” my grandpa says.
My mom quickly serves everyone and the meal begins. There is little talking at first, for which I am very grateful. As the plates empty, though, the chatter springs back to life. A playful grin spreads across my dad’s face and I almost groan. What now? I wonder.
“So tomorrow’s the big day,” he says.
I gag on my roast. “What?” I ask between fits of coughing. “What did you say about tomorrow?”
“It’s your birthday,” he says, with a question in his voice and a quick glance at his wife. My mom only shrugs helplessly and swishes her hand at my dad, prodding him forward. “What would you like to do? It’s your day.”
“Oh, I don’t know dad. Is there even anything to do here?” I say, pretending that my melancholy is still due to my previous dislike of the town.
“Of course there are things to do. There’s the beach, a movie, dinner, bowling, skating, hiking. Take your pick.”
I appreciate the effort. Actually, Grainer seems to have a surprising amount of things to do. Most of them require me to be outdoors, which I am not used to, but I would have been willing to try if I had more time. Grainer is just not that important anymore. Truly disappointed that I will miss the bonfire on Saturday, I cough, trying to cover up an unexpected sob. Too tired to continue the charade, I simply say, “Dinner and a movie sounds great, Dad.”
“What do you want to see?” my mom asks. “I’ll have to call and check the times of the theater here.” Always planning ahead. My mom makes me smile.
“I think that show I wanted to see before we moved is still in theaters. You know, the one with that actor I like,” I say.
I don’t have a clue what movie I am even talking about, but it seems plausible that there might be something playing that fits that description. My mom nods her head. Maybe she knows what movie I’m talking about. My grandpa tries desperately to hide the pain in his eyes. Mom and Dad seem oblivious, but seeing his pain doubles mine and I have to look away before tears start falling.
“I’ll get tickets in the morning,” my mom says, calculating where to fit it into her schedule. “We can go to Willowby’s Steak House. I’ve heard it’s delicious.”
“That sounds great, Mom.” I smile. Of course we’ll go there. It’s the only real restaurant in town. Everything else is a diner or fast food. That might have bothered me greatly before, but now I truly wish I could survive long enough to spend the evening with my parents. I have spent so little time with them the past few days, and most of what we have spent together was filled with me complaining about everything in sight. A sniffling cough snaps me out of my musings. My grandpa is standing up.
“Well, I better head home. Thanks for dinner, Judy.” He pats my shoulder roughly.
“You’ll come tomorrow won’t you,” my mom asks.
Another stifled coughing sob.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” he agrees.
We all stand to walk him to the door. He gives hugs all around, holding me longer than the others. “We’ll get you through this. I won’t let them have you,” he whispers fiercely. “Don’t give up yet.” I smile encouragingly and nod. Watching him close the door, my hope dwindles to nothing.
“I’ll be in my room,” I mutter. “I’m still pretty tired.”
My parent’s voices follow me as I walk away. I can hear the deep concern in their voices. I can hear my mom worrying over me. What more can she do? she’s asking. My eyes burn. If only it was a matter of making friends, of fitting in. They have no idea that tomorrow will be the last birthday I will ever see. Who can blame me for not wanting to celebrate that fact?
I fall into my bed to wait.