No no no no.
Willow looks stricken, but she quickly schools her face. “Did anyone leave a message?”
When I shake my head, she says, “Okay, so we don’t know for sure. Maybe there’s another emergency. Maybe ...” She seems to reconsider putting any other potential emergencies in my head.
“Let’s just sit down and call someone. It’s probably nothing,” she says.
But it’s not.
It’s not nothing.
I know it the way I knew what had happened to Ro.
Still, I nod, and my shaking fingers touch Naomi’s name on my screen.
After the fight with my mother, the last thing I want is to hear it from either of my parents. Besides, they won’t know as much as Naomi knows.
As the phone rings, I start to tell myself that Willow’s right. It could be a million other emergencies. I mean, Mel is the most likely one, but it might not betheone. She might have another infection. Maybe she’s in the hospital.
Maybe it’s good news.
“Jessi?” I can tell from Naomi’s stuffy voice that it’s not good news. I look at Willow, but she just nods encouragingly.
“I saw you called.”
She’s not dead she’s not dead she’s not dead
“Mel’s unconscious.”
She’s not dead.
She’s not dead.
“Okay, so what do we do? Is there a drug or a surgery ...”
“Honey, they’re not expecting her to wake up,” Naomi says now. “You probably wanna come and say goodbye.”
22
I want totell Mel ...
That Naomi called me honey.
I want to tell Mel that I never got over her oldest son.
I want to tell Mel that I lied to her, thatwelied to her.
I want to tell Mel that she saved me, that she cared about me when it seemed like nobody else did.
I want to tell her that I’m sorry. There’s a whole list of things I’m sorry for, and I’d start at the beginning and go through it.
I’m sorry that the day we met, when she put me and Ro in the minivan and drove us to her house for our first playdate, I purposely spilled the root beer she bought me, because I think root beer tastes like toes.
I’m sorry that a couple of years later, when my dad took me to the clinic because our babysitter canceled, I saw Dr. Cohen walk by the store window, laughing with a blond woman, and I never told anyone. I thought she was beautiful, and I’m sorry for that, too.
There’s so much that I want to tell Mel, but when I sit down beside her and hold her hand, all I do is cry.
Cry, whisper “I love you I love you,” and choke on the rest of my words.
