“I always cared,” Mom says teary. “I loved you. You knew that.”
“Did I?” I ask. “What did you ever do to show me that? What did you everdo?”
I’m surprised at myself, the way my voice is rising, the way I’m spitting my words. I never thought we would talk about all of this. How do you condense eighteen years into one conversation?
“I kept going.” Mom’s voice is small. “I woke up every day, and I kept going.”
She shakes her head. “I know now that I should have gotten help sooner. I was so stubborn, and I hate myself for it every day, but my family ... you have to understand that being depressed wasn’t considered a sickness, just a weakness. I thought I could fight it on my own.”
“That’s what you call fighting it?” I ask. “Being in bed for most of my life?”
Mom gives Dad a desperate look. “I made a lot of mistakes, Jessi. But I’m trying to right them now. I know you can see how far I’ve come the last few months. It’s a work in progress, but I’m doing better. Everything is going to be different now.”
“It’s too late.” I hear myself saying as I back up, starting up the stairs past my father.
“Can’t we talk about this?” Mom asks, her voice breaking.
But it’s too late for that, too. We didn’t talk for the past seventeen years. We didn’t talk one year ago, when Mom started treatment and tiny changes started happening. We didn’t talk when she was back in bed a few weeks ago. Wenevertalk. Why start now?
I break into a run down the hall until I reach my room.
I slam my door and then bury myself in my bed.
Tears come unbidden, for everything I’ve lost and everything I never had. Two families. Two homes. Two brothers. My best friends.
Mel.
I’ve lost it all, and the saddest part is, I’m still not sure if they were ever mine to begin with.
I sniff my clothes, hoping they still have Luke’s scent that I love so much. But I smell nothing; it’s all me.
21
NOW
Willow’s lips forma long, thin line when I arrive at work.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to call you back,” I say, remembering the three missed calls from her that I have on my phone.
“That’s okay,” she says coldly. “I guess you were busy.”
“I was. Luke and I worked all day yesterday on this surprise ...”
Willow holds up her hand to stop me. “Honestly, it’s fine, Jessi. You don’t need to tell me. You don’t need to tell me anything about your life.”
I’m surprised at the bitter tone in her voice. I know I should have called her after Friday night at the lake, but I was kind of preoccupied with other stuff.
“Wills, come on,” I say, reaching for her shoulder.
She shrugs off my touch. “No,youcome on. I came here to this town and I wanted to be your friend. I told you about my channel. At camping, I told you about my issues from before ... And honestly, let’s talk about camping. Luke told us about his mom. You told me you likecountry songs,” she hisses. “Country songs.”
“I do,” I say lamely.
“Well, whoop-de-doo,” she says. “So does everyone in Texas, where I came from. Tell me something that freaking matters.”
I’m not sure if she’s actually asking me to tell her now, and then the moment passes, and she’s looking even more pissed than she was a minute ago.
“Um ...”
