Things We Didn't Say

Chapter 28

Angel



It’s kind of nice doing dishes with my mom. It’s so . . . normal.

When my phone bleeps in my pocket, I dry my hands and reach for it. I have to hold the phone out of my mom’s view because she’s stretching her neck to see.

It’s Scott. I’ve been trying to get his attention for weeks now.

Ru OK? Found him?

I hadn’t told him about Dylan, but word gets around. And he’s concerned! It’s sweet. I feel a little guilty being happy about his concern, considering the reason.

Yeah. He ran away, he’s fine.

Cool. Coming 2 the party?

I hadn’t even had a chance to ask my dad about Hannah’s party. It’s not the kind of thing he normally lets me go to. It’s not chaperoned, and there will be booze there. Not that I’d be up-front about that, but he’s not an idiot and he’d figure it out on his own. I pause, my thumbs over the buttons, not wanting to say “My dad won’t let me go” because that makes me sound like a baby.

Sure, I type in. I’ll figure out a way to make it work. Later.

The floor creaks behind me and it’s my mom, trying to peer over my shoulder. She rubs her hands together, like something really exciting is coming. “A boy, huh?”

I roll my eyes and walk past her, accidentally bumping her arm.

“Hey! You’re just going to shove me out of the way, now? Since I don’t live here, you think you can treat me like crap?”

I turn slowly on my heel, my heart starting to beat hard, like it always used to when she shouted.

Then she shakes her head a little. “No, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, hon. I just love a budding romance. What’s his name?”

“Scott.”

“Ooh, how old is he?”

“He’s in my grade.”

“How do you know him?”

“I said, he’s in my grade.”

“Do you have classes with him?”

“Yeah, some.”

“Which ones?”

“Algebra Two and drama.”

“Is he cute?”

“Mom, please.”

“What? I just like knowing what’s going on with you. In case you haven’t noticed, we lost a kid recently because no one knew what was in his head.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, someone thought I was such a horrible mother, but then look what my stand-in does?”

I’m no big fan of Casey, but this is so not fair.

“This is no one’s fault but Dylan’s. He’s the one who ran away. Be mad at him if you’re going to be mad at somebody.”

My mom puts one hand on her hip, looking at me with her mouth hanging open. “You sound just like your father. When did you get so judgmental?”

“So running away was not his fault? He just accidentally got on a bus?”

“I mean, there’s got to be more to the story. There always is.”

Oh, I get it. We’re talking about her, now.

“Well, fine, okay, something must be upsetting him. But seriously, he’s the one who did it. It’s not Casey’s fault.”

“Why are you defending her?”

“Why are you attacking her? Why not Dad? He’s the parent.”

“He works all day.”

“So? Dylan’s in school all day.”

“So you like her better than me, is that it?”

Her hands are shaking. I can see it from here. She’s also twisting her rings around, and working her hands like she’s ripping up pieces of paper.

“Hardly. In fact, given what she thinks of me, I’m surprised she can stand to be in the same house.”

This seems to snag my mom out of whatever she was fretting about.

“What do you mean?”

I glance around me quickly, not seeing Casey nearby, but I whisper, just in case. “I mean, I found her journal.”

My mother takes my hand and pulls me to the couch, patting the cushion next to her. “Talk to me,” she says.


Jewel comes up to sit next to me on the couch, after the dishes are all done. Casey hasn’t come down yet, so it’s weirdly like it was before the divorce, and Dad was working late, and it was just us kids and Mom. Dylan’s not here, but he could be practicing up in his room, or doing his homework. He likes to do his homework alone, upstairs. I like to be at the dining room table, so I don’t feel alone. I like to be part of things, and he doesn’t. Maybe that’s why he never talked to us about anything. I should be a better big sister.

I look down and see Jewel’s got her blanket. I haven’t seen that in a while.

“You okay, J.?”

She just nods, and snuggles up more. I take an afghan off the back of the couch, which Grandma Turner crocheted for us, and toss it over the both of us. I grab the clicker and change the channel. It was a cop show, and lots of people were getting shot and stuff.

“Hey,” Mom says from the armchair. “I was watching that.”

I nod my head toward Jewel.

Mom rolls her eyes. “Oh, she doesn’t even pay attention.”

I raise an eyebrow at my mom, surprised she doesn’t realize that Jewel hears everything. Just like I do.

I put it on Hannah Montana, and Mom raises her hands, making a little annoyed snort, and then wanders off to the computer.

Jewel shifts under my arm, and I remember holding her when she was a baby, and I felt so grown up. Eventually I realized that I did more for my baby sister than most kids, how I fed her a lot when Mom would get distracted, or Mom would be taking her extra-long naps, or be really upset or something and not notice the time, and how I’d change Jewel’s diaper when it started to hang down.

But she was such a funny little baby, and I liked how she pulled my hair and tried to stuff it in her mouth. I didn’t mind so much, except for when I had a lot of homework it was hard to remember to check on her all the time.

It’s a relief now that she’s bigger, and can remember these things by herself.

Of course, if Casey and my dad get married, they’ll have another baby and maybe it’ll start all over again. I’ll probably have to babysit so they can go out on dates. And they’ll probably get all kissy-face and stuff.

Awkward.

“Angel?” Jewel says, her voice extra young sounding because she’s so tired.

“Yeah, J?”

“Why did Dylan leave?”

“I dunno. I guess you can ask him.”

“Doesn’t he love us?”

“ ’Course he does. Boys are dumb, though. They don’t think.”

“Dylan’s not dumb.”

I sigh. “Everyone’s dumb sometimes.”

I actually hate Hannah Montana. So I pick up my phone with my free hand and send a one-handed text about the big party.

Mom suddenly stands up from the computer and snatches her coat off the couch. “I’m walking to the store,” she says.

She asks me if I need anything, and I wave her away with my phone.

“Keep an eye on Jewel,” she says.

Duh. What else is new?