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“Oh, you know. That’s a lost battle. Cramp her style.”
“Lorraine! She’s not that bad.”
“She moved out, didn’t she?”
No use fighting that argument again, Zoë thought. “Oregon.” She sighed.
Lorraine groaned. “Yeah! This is hideous. It’s the wilderness or something. I’m not ready for the great trek. I could stay with you,” she added hopefully.
“I’ll ask,” Zoë said, although there wasn’t a chance. They both knew that was impossible right now.
“Nah!”
What will I do? Zoë thought. “You can visit.” It seemed a pathetic suggestion.
“Big deal!”
“Yeah.”
“Can you come over?” Lorraine asked.
“No. I better stay here for now.”
“Uh-oh! Something wrong?”
“She’s in the hospital again.”
“Oh, hell.”
This is where Lorraine shuts down, Zoë thought. Why can’t she talk to me about it? Why does she have to back off every time? She’s my best friend, damn it, not like those nerds at school who are too embarrassed even to look at me anymore. She searched for what she wanted to say. Something to keep Lorraine on the line.
There was silence.
“Listen,” said Lorraine, “you don’t really feel like talking now. Call me later when you’ve heard. Okay?”
No, it’s you who doesn’t want to talk, Zoë thought, but she found herself saying, “Uh-huh.”
“Okay. We’ll talk then.” But she didn’t hang up. “Hey, listen, Zoë, I love you and all that mush. Like sisters, you know.” It tumbled out fast to cover the unaccustomed shyness. “Call me.”
“Sure.” Zoë smiled wryly. They wouldn’t talk about it.
“Bye.”
“Bye, Zo. Hold tight,” Lorraine whispered before she hung up.
She does care, Zoë reassured herself. She just doesn’t know how to deal with it. Who does? But Zoë was angry anyway. They could always talk before. Usually Lorraine’s choice of topic, but they could talk. And now, Lorraine leaving. Was the world coming to an end? They’d been friends forever. What’s wrong with the way things were? Why did you have to go and change every damn thing? she felt like yelling at a God she wasn’t even sure existed. Am I being punished? What did I do?
It all made her so very tired. I’m ready to take a nap, she decided. She went upstairs. Sleeping had taken the place of eating lately. She lay down on top of the sp
read and escaped for a while.
She awoke with a jolt. She grappled with the fleeting blur of dreams and recognized sounds that might have been the front door slamming, or the thud of her own room’s door. She got up stiff and unrested and made her way downstairs. Rattling and crackling came from the kitchen. She entered to find her father making himself a bowl of cereal. White-faced, he looked at her, dark circles etched beneath his eyes.
“Dammit, Zoë, the front door was open.”
“Sorry, Dad. I must have forgotten. No one was here. It scared me. I went to find a note.” Her fingers picked nervously at the seam of her jeans. How could she have forgotten the door?
“You can’t just leave doors open, Zoë. For crying out loud, look at the newspapers.”
