“What the hell?” Jude looks even angrier than Darcy. “Where is he now?”
“They can’t find him. A neighbor tipped him off when he saw Momo and me leaving the apartment with the EMTs. He’s been missing ever since.”
Momo was afraid to talk to the police at first. After the ambulance brought us to the hospital, she was admitted right away and assigned a room with ducks waddling across the walls and a teddy bear sitting on a big armchair in the corner. Momo was in bed receiving IV fluids for severe dehydration when a nurse in panda scrubs pulled me aside to let me know the police wanted to ask her some questions. It was difficult enough for Momo to let the doctor examine her. Now the police were going to make her talk about what she went through? I talked to Momo first, just the two of us.
“Everything will be okay,” I assured her. I pulled the big armchair up to the side of the bed so I could sit right next to her. “All you have to do is answer a few questions.”
“How do you know?” Momo looked so small under the covers, but she was already looking better than when I found her a few hours before. The nurse had given her a sponge bath after the doctor examined her. She was no longer sweaty or trembling, but she was still shaken up. I could not imagine how she must have felt, locked up in that crawl space. No wonder she didn’t want to hide in the closet when we were playing hide-and-seek at camp.
“The nurse told me the police won’t stay that long,” I said. “They want you to rest and get better.”
“No, not that. How do you know everything will be okay?”
I wished more than anything that I could guarantee no one would ever hurt her again. That no one would ever hurt any kid in the world again.
“The police are here to help you,” I said. “That’s why they came to the hospital. They want to keep you safe so this never happens again. But they need more information in order to protect you.”
Momo was skeptical.
“Okay?”
She nodded. “Where’s my mommy?”
“She’s on her way.” I tried to not let anger show on my face. When I spoke to Momo’s mom while Momo was getting set up in her room, her mom said she couldn’t leave right away. She sounded upset, but clearly not upset enough to come running to the hospital from wherever she was. Her excuse was that she was in the middle of a meeting. I would love to know what kind of work she travels for that doesn’t allow her to leave when her daughter is in the hospital after her boyfriend locked her up like an animal. That is not right. And it’s not right that Momo’s mom went on to say she had been okay with her boyfriend disciplining Momo if he had to, although she apparently didn’t know the extent of his abuse. Her parents smacked her around when she was little and she turned out fine.
Obviously our definitions of “fine” differ. By a lot.
Talking to Momo’s mom made me wonder how innocent she really is. Momo was so worried when she got her shirt dirty that time we were repotting plants, and she didn’t want Cecelia to call her mom. Did Momo’s mom know more than she admitted? Or was she too immersed in her own world to notice?
“Please tell me Momo isn’t going back home,” Austin says.
“She’s staying with her grandma until Child Protective Services investigates her mom.”
“Good. That woman is definitely hiding something.”
Darcy and I exchange a look. The irony of Austin accusing someone of hiding something is not lost on us. But I’m really happy that Sadie and Austin have found their way back to each other. They are so cute together. They keep touching and kissing like the happiest couple ever. Darcy keeps stealing glances at them. It must be weird for her to hang out with Jude like this, when they are supposed to be just friends.
“Okay, time for a subject change,” I announce. “Sadie, what are you doing for your next video?” I am amazed at how her West Village rant went viral. It really does make me believe that anything is possible. Especially in New York.
Sadie’s face lights up. “I found this little satirical graphic book called NYC Basic Tips and Etiquette. It is hysterical. All the annoying New York behavior is in there, like getting on the subway before people get off or texting at the movies. I was thinking of trying to catch some of those examples on video . . . or acting them out dos-and-don’ts style.”
“Yes!” Darcy cheers. “That would be huge!”
“Could you put in people who stand too close to you in line?” Austin requests. “It’s like, Why are you touching me? How do you have no concept of personal space?”
“Done.” Sadie beams at Austin.
Austin kisses Sadie. They are still kissing when someone shoves her way up into our group, bumping into Austin.
He spins around to see who bumped into him. I look, too, and it registers that I know her.
“Shirley!” I yell. “I can’t believe you’re here!” I almost didn’t recognize Shirley out of context from camp. Without her camp clothes and long feather earrings, surrounded by arts and crafts supplies, she almost looks like a different person.
Shirley turns to me. But she doesn’t say hi. She turns right back to Austin.
“You seriously left me for her?” she seethes.
Oh. Oh. Shirley is Shirley. Austin’s wife, Shirley. Sadie told me her name a while ago, but I didn’t make the connection. Now it all makes sense. Finding Shirley crying in the arts and crafts hut that day at camp. The problems with her husband she didn’t want to get into. That must have been the day after Shirley confronted Sadie outside our building. No wonder she was such a wreck.
“What are you doing here?” Austin asks her.
“It’s on your calendar.”
“How did you get into my calendar?”
“Your password is still the same.” Shirley glares at Sadie. “We weren’t done talking. You brushed me off at your place. I have a lot more to say to you.”
“You have nothing to say to her,” Austin interjects. “If you have something to say, you can say it to me.”
“But this isn’t about you. It’s about your husband-stealing whore.”
Darcy and Jude aren’t even pretending to give them privacy. They are watching this surreal scene unfold like I am, perplexed and fascinated at the same time.
“You do know you’re sleeping with my husband, right?” Shirley fires at Sadie.
“We’re not sleeping together,” Sadie says, her voice surprisingly level. “And he’s not your husband anymore.”
“I’m sorry, did I somehow sign the divorce papers without knowing? Because last time I checked, they weren’t signed.”
Sadie is startled. This is clearly news to her.
Other people standing around our group have stopped talking. They are staring at the drama playing out as if this were part of the show.
“Can we talk outside?” Austin asks Shirley.
“What, first I’m not good enough for you, and now I’m not good enough to be here?” Shirley wobbles on her high heels, grabbing onto Austin’s arm so she doesn’t fall over. “This is a public place.”
“You’re drunk.”
“You think?”
Whatever Shirley came here to accomplish is not going to happen. The longer she stays, the worse things are going to get. I put my hand on her back. “Why don’t we step out for a minute? It’s too crowded in here.”
Shirley lets me guide her out of the room, then down the stairs, then outside. She sits on the dirty curb surrounded by cigarette butts and a bunch of potato chips someone must have spilled. I sit next to her.
“I can’t believe this is my life,” she says. “Why is this happening to me?”
I shake my head, racking my brain for the right words that will make her feel better. “Sorry I didn’t know you were . . . I should have made the connection.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I ruined your night.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Uuuhhh!” Shirley rubs her forehead. “I made a fool of myself go
ing up to them like that.” She starts crying. We are back to her crying on the ground and me being useless.
“I don’t know what happened,” she says through an onslaught of tears. “At first I wasn’t going to do anything. The plan was to come by and watch them together for a few minutes, just to see what she has that I don’t. I was going to leave without them even knowing I was here. But then I went crazy when I saw him with her. That was the first time I’ve seen them together. It’s one thing to know your husband is having an affair, but then to see how he was with her . . . it’s like I came undone.” Shirley scuffs the sole of her shoe against a cigarette butt. “The way he was looking at her is what made me snap. I couldn’t stand all that affection. And when he kissed her . . . He never looked at me or kissed me that way. Even before we got married.” Shirley swipes at the tears on her cheeks. I wish I had a tissue to give her. “That’s when I realized she’s better for him.”
A rush of empathy tugs at my chest. Shirley’s heartbreak is the same as mine. The boy she loved was a better match for someone else.
We sit on the curb for a while, me rubbing her back, Shirley crying her heart out. My heart is breaking for hers.
I don’t know how much time has passed when she stops crying. She tries to stand but can’t find her balance. I help her up.
“Can you get home okay?” I ask.
“I’ll take a cab.”
“I’m really sorry about everything.”
Shirley sniffles. “Don’t be. Did Sadie tell you I cheated on Austin first?”
“She might have mentioned it.” I was wondering why Shirley would do something like that when Sadie told me. Now I can ask. “Why did you?”
“Cheat? I guess on some level I knew we weren’t right for each other. I just didn’t want to believe it. Why I went looking for answers in all the wrong places is beyond me. I obviously have a lot to work on.”
Shirley hails a cab and opens the back door. Then we hug goodbye.
“Let me know if you want to get together after camp ends,” I say before she gets in. I doubt she’ll take me up on the offer, but I feel like I have to put it out there.
“Thanks for sitting with me,” she says. “Oh, and preventing me from making an even bigger fool of myself. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course.”
“You want to be a social worker, right?”
I remember that time at camp when she asked me about college. Even though I told her about my career goals, she changed the subject before I could ask her the same.
“Yeah,” I say.
Shirley manages a small smile. “You’re going to make a great one.”
CHAPTER 25
SADIE
ONE THING I LOVE ABOUT New York City is all its secret places. Not only are there courtyards and pathways you might only find if you look hard enough, there are secret places hidden behind doors right out in the open. You never know what you are passing when you walk by them. Anything could be happening behind those walls.
Beauty & Essex is a perfect example. From the front of the store, it appears to be a small pawnshop. A bouncer guarding a back door inside is the only clue that there is more here than meets the eye. I’ve heard about Beauty & Essex, but this is my first time here. The massive space behind that pawnshop back door is actually a two-floor lounge and restaurant. This place is so fabulous there is a bar in the ladies’ bathroom. Oh yeah. With a couch and everything. You could sit and have a glass of champagne in the bathroom if you wanted to. Although I’m not sure why you would want to drink in the bathroom when there are two bars here, just knowing you could is badass.
The Last Blast party with my friends from high school had to be here. According to Darcy, anyway. All the research she did before she moved from Santa Monica is really paying off. Now that she can’t afford the kinds of places she researched anymore, she is determined to live vicariously through anyone who can. Starting with me.
Eight of us have a long table against the wall of the main room. Beauty & Essex has a killer atmosphere, all sultry colors and deco accents. A 50s Hollywood vibe is meshing with modern touches. This is the kind of place where women wore real fur coats and men smoked exotic cigars way back when both of those activities were socially acceptable.
A classy setting is always appropriate for distributing warm fuzzies.
I give everyone the warm fuzzies I made for them after we order. The plan was to wait until later, but I couldn’t wait. My friends love them, and I love thinking about the warm fuzzies in their dorm rooms across the country.
We’re all dressed up for this special occasion. But underneath the laughter and the happy energy buzzing at our table there’s a bittersweet tinge. We are planning to get together again when everyone comes home for winter break. But I know how uncertain life can be. This might be the last time we are all together.
Most of my friends are excited to leave New York. Growing up here is completely different than moving here from somewhere else. Kids who grow up in New York City tend to be jaded by the time they’re nine. They have this “been there, done that” attitude by middle school. Events that would be treats for any other kid, like eating out at nice restaurants or going to world-famous museums, are nothing special for most kids around here.
I am so thankful I didn’t end up that way.
As my friends talk about what they’re looking forward to at college, I remember my Java Stop rant. Most of my rage was sparked by the transformation of historic Bleecker Street, once a gathering place for social activists and home to mom-and-pop stores, into what is looking more like a suburban strip mall. And it’s not just Bleecker Street. You can see the shift happening in lots of different neighborhoods. I thought it would be really sad if New York looked like any other American city ten years from now. But listening to my friends talk about the new cities that will become theirs when they leave for college, I’m starting to see things differently. My rage over the Java Stop monopoly sucking up helpless little stores like a big bad boogeyman will never die. But hearing how excited my friends are to explore other cities is reminding me that every city contains its own beauty. Big cities and small towns all across America are each special in their own way because of the people who live there. The people who have made those big cities and small towns what they are today. My friends are going to become some of those people. They are moving away to create new lives for themselves, to contribute to new places in profound ways. They will fall in love with those cities, and that city love will inspire those places to flourish. City love is about community, no matter where you call home.
Eventually everyone breaks out into smaller conversations as people at large tables do. I’m telling Brooke about the wife drama last night at the Slipper Room.
“I thought they were divorced,” Brooke says.
“So did I. Or I assumed they were by now.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. Austin has made it really clear that he’s ready to move on. But Shirley obviously isn’t. I’m kind of worried that she might keep . . .”
“Stalking you guys?”
“Sort of. I mean, she hacked into his calendar to find out where we were. That must have been how she found out what time we were having dinner when she showed up at my place. Wait, does it still count as hacking when you already have the person’s password?”
“Yes.”
“How will I know where she’s going to show up next? What if she gets crazy, like Addison with Rosanna?”
“Who’s Addison?”
“I haven’t told you about Addison? Nasty Girl?”
“Uh . . . I don’t think so.”
“Oh, you would remember.” I fill Brooke in on how Addison turned Mica against Rosanna and how she lied to Shayla that Donovan and Rosanna were going to break up. Then how Addison showed up at Rosanna’s camp to confront her. Rosanna has no idea what Addison will do next or where she will show up. I don’t want to live like that, constantly a
fraid of what Shirley might do next.
Shirley might show up outside my door again. Addison might continue tormenting Rosanna. You never know what could happen with Darcy. All this uncertainty makes me even more grateful that Rosanna and Darcy are my roommates. It was a non-coincidence that we were placed in our apartment together. We were all running from dark secrets of our past toward a brighter future we desperately wanted to create. But you can’t just run away from problems. You can’t resolve your problems until you deal with them.
It was time to tell Rosanna and Darcy about my sister. Darcy felt close enough to us to reveal what happened with her dad. Rosanna shared her darkest fears about Donovan with us. Maybe by opening up to each other, showing the parts of us we keep hidden from the rest of the world, we can help each other heal. We can begin to create the life we have been running toward.
CHAPTER 26
DARCY
“YOU GIRLS FREAKING RULE FOR rescuing me from Java Stop hell,” I say as we’re walking downtown along the water in Hudson River Park. “All work and no play makes Darcy a dull girl.”
“Dull is like the last thing you would ever be,” Sadie says.
According to Sadie, tonight is one of those gorgeous New York nights that are so rare in August you are practically forced to go outside and enjoy the weather. Tonight feels like a summer night is supposed to feel: warm, breezy, and bursting with infinite potential.
Boys walking or running uptown pass us in a steady stream of hotness. Most of them turn to look at us. Maybe because Sadie thought it would be cute for us to match. We’re all wearing camis, cutoffs, and flip-flops. Some of the boys keep watching us after they’ve walked by. A lot of them are cute. But tonight isn’t about boys. Tonight is all about girl time.
One guy around thirty running past us helicopters his neck so hard he actually stumbles. He puts his hands out to break his fall. Then he runs away, smooth move embarrassment drifting after him.
We crack up so hard we have to stop walking. I am bent over laughing. Sadie has tears in her eyes she’s laughing so hard. Rosanna snorts, then clasps her hands over her mouth, horrified.