And now Ma was squeezing my hand, asking me to be patient, and I realized that I’d have to hold on until she was brave enough, too.
True to her word, Ma did make an effort. She got up from the couch, took a shower, dried her hair with the blow dryer, and she even put on makeup. She smiled at me as she came downstairs, and I was struck by how beautiful she still was. The premature lines from years of smoking were still there—and there was a slight puffiness to her face from the drinking—but when Ma made an effort, she was stunning.
“You look great,” I told her.
“Yeah?” she said, blushing slightly.
My smile widened. “Yeah. You really do, Ma.” My gaze drifted to Dad’s picture on the mantel. They had been a beautiful couple.
Ma sighed and pressed her hands together like she was making a wish. “I’m heading to the Drug Mart on Pavilion. I saw an ad online that they’re looking for part-time help. Wish me luck?”
I swallowed hard, moved that she was trying. “Good luck, Ma.”
After she left I called Stubs, but it went right to voice mail. “Hey,” I said in my message. “It’s me. Call me about Payton, okay?”
I’d been racking my brain trying to come up with a solution that would honor my promise to Donny and still warn Payton in time for her to make another choice. But so far I had no good ideas, and I was also troubled by the possible fact that—no matter what we did—it might not make a difference. I kept returning to the same troubling question: Were the dates fixed? Or could they be changed?
I finally decided that simply because I didn’t know the answer didn’t mean that Stubs and I still couldn’t try to change destiny. And after what had happened to Tevon, I knew we had to try something that would get Payton’s attention.
While in my room studying, I was staring up at the bulletin board above my desk—where I’d pinned favorite photos and cards and mementos—and I suddenly had an idea about how to warn Payton. I tried calling Stubs again, but he didn’t pick up, so I texted him.
With a sigh I got up and went to the window, noticing with a frown that the familiar black sedan was back at the curb.
Then I saw Ma coming back home, her steps unsteady and clumsy. I knew immediately that she’d found someplace to stop for a few drinks. All that hope that’d risen to the surface earlier when she’d come downstairs looking so good had evaporated. My eyes traveled back to the sedan. Those agents must be having a pretty good laugh at seeing my mom stumble home. It filled me with anger, and I clenched my fists, ready to go out there and yell at them, but stopped myself. Yelling at them wouldn’t make things better, and it might actually make things worse.
A minute or two later Ma came into the house. “I got the job!” she announced.
But I was mad enough not to care. “You’ve been drinking.”
Ma shrugged, still happy about her news. “I thought getting a job was worth celebrating,” she sang. Then she moved passed me toward the stairs like coming home stumbling drunk wasn’t a big deal. “I’m going up for a bath. There’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
Her words were slurred and slow, and my anger deepened. I was about to say something really mean, when I heard my phone ping. Lifting it out of my pocket I saw that Stubs had sent me a text. Can’t make the diner tonight. TTYL.
After not hearing from him all weekend, his text felt like a snub. He’d never been ticked off at me this long before. I sat down in Dad’s chair and stared at my phone, trying to think of the words that would make it better between us, but nothing came to me, so I left it alone and hoped I’d find the right words in the morning.
I FOUND STUBBY AT HIS locker on monday morning with a fresh set of bruises to his right cheek and his hand in a cast. “Dude!” I said when I saw him. “What happened?”
“It looks worse than it is,” he told me.
I took hold of his casted hand. “Yeah, this doesn’t look bad at all. It’s only a flesh wound, right?”
Stubby humored me with a grin. “It’s a hairline fracture. I only have to wear the cast for a couple of weeks.”
“The half-pipe?” I asked.
Stubby shuffled his books into the crook of his arm and used his elbow to shut his locker. “I was trying a new trick.”
I took his books and helped load them into his backpack. “Yeah? Well, try harder next time.”
He shrugged. “It was worth it. Sorry I didn’t make it to the diner, but I was at the ER until late.”
I immediately felt guilty about thinking he’d snubbed me the night before. We started down the hall together. “I wish I’d known. I would’ve picked up a slice of pie and brought it to you.”
Stubs grinned, and I knew we were okay again. “Next time I’ll send you the deets.” And then he changed the subject. “Did you come up with a way to warn Payton?”
I sighed. My idea wasn’t great, but it was all I could think of given Donny’s warning and how Faraday and Wallace were watching nearly my every move. “It’s super tricky. The feds have pretty much camped out in front of my house, and they’re watching me like a hawk.”
“Do you think they’re tapping your phones?” Stubs asked.
My eyes widened. I hadn’t thought of that. “Don’t know. But if they are, they might also try and tap into my e-mail and texts. We can’t talk about any of this on the phone.” I was suddenly very grateful that Stubs hadn’t tried to call or text me about it over the weekend.
“What if I sent her an e-mail or an anonymous text?” Stubby asked. I started to shake my head, but he held up his hand and said, “Wait, before you say no, there’re a ton of apps that let you send someone an anonymous email or text, and the sender’s info disappears in, like, a minute. They’re untraceable.”
I sighed. “That could work, but how do we get Payton’s e-mail address or her cell number?”