We’re Not Alone
CHAPTER 53
I don’t sleep a wink.
Around five thirty, I get up and make omelets.
Eggs, milk, peppers, mushrooms, tequila—all whisked up in a big old silver bowl.
Omelet jizz in the pan.
Sizzle.
Sizzle.
Sizzle.
Fold over: O to D.
Flip, flip, flip.
Plates in the oven.
Oranges halved.
Donna’s juicer used.
Coffee put on.
The paper I get ready for Donna.
The table I set.
“Good morning, Amber,” Donna says, big old smile on her face.
“Hope it is,” I say, and then serve the omelet.
“Amber Appleton is making omelets for Ricky Roberts, yes-ssssss! Tuesday is omelet day. Yes.”
“Is it Tuesday?” I ask as I serve Ricky, noticing the Tuesday Chase Utley jersey. “I haven’t really been keeping track of the days.”
“Tuesday—all day,” Donna says from behind the business section.
We eat omelets.
“How do you think BBB is doing?” I ask.
“I’m sure he’s fine. We’ll pick him up just as soon as I get home from work,” Donna says. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I say.
I clean the table when everyone is done eating as Ricky does math problems.
After I have everything in the dishwasher, I go shower, put on makeup, and pick out a killer outfit from the new clothes Donna has been buying me for the past two months. I go with these designer jeans that make my butt look pretty good, and this crazy preppy purple v-neck sweater that makes me look like I might be going to play tennis.
When I come downstairs, Donna says, “You look great. But are you sure you’re ready to go back to school? I don’t want you to feel rushed.”
“Yeah,” I say, “I have to execute my plan.”
“What plan?” Donna asks.
“The Save Bobby Big Boy Variety Show,” I say.
“What’s that all about?” Donna asks.
But then—suddenly—Ty is beeping his car horn out front.
“Have to drive to school with Ty Hendrix!” Ricky says, and is out the door, backpack in hand.
“Take this,” Donna says, and then hands me a twenty.
“I don’t need your money,” I say as I put on my backpack.
“You have to eat lunch, Amber. Please.”
I take the bill, shove it in my front pocket, and then give Donna a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a good woman,” I say, and then I’m out the door.
Ty is just about to pull away when I yell, “Wait!”
He smiles all surprised when he sees me running toward his Volvo station wagon.
I’m shocked to see his beard.
It’s already three inches long.
He looks like frickin’ Rip Van Winkle.
“You comin’ to school today?” Ty asks as I climb into the backseat.
“Yep,” I say.
“Cool,” he says, and then turns up the radio before pulling away.
P!nk’s “God Is a DJ” is playing.
I sorta dig that song, which Ty knows, so I sing along—yelling out the curse words that the radio station bleeps out.
Ricky counts to himself—who knows what he is counting?
Bearded Ty keeps on looking in the rearview mirror, watching me sing—so much that I worry we might crash, but I only smile at him and sing louder.
P!nk kicks butt. Period. She’s another one of my women heroes. She doesn’t need a man to take care of her—no way.
We park two blocks from the school.
“Going to play Halo 3 with Mr. Jonathan Franks!” Ricky says, and then we follow him toward the The Franks Lair.
“It’s good to have you back in school,” Ty says.
“Are you going to shave now?” I ask.
“Not until you agree to go to Friendly’s with us.”
“Why?”
“Because I made a vow,” Ty says. “Respect the sanctity of the friendship beard.”
When we knock on Franks’ outside door, Jared kicks it open and I see ten or so boys playing Halo 3. Chad, Jared, Lex Pinkston, some other meathead football players, a few guys whose names I don’t know, and Franks.
“Amber?” Franks says, and then everyone turns and looks at me.
The Halo 3 game stops.
“I’m back,” I say.
“Welcome,” Franks says, and then walks over to shake my hand like I’m the president or something.
Everyone looks really nervous—I can feel the tension in the room.
No one knows what to say, because my mom was murdered.
Everyone is looking at me.
“Listen,” I say, “I know you are all probably freaked out by what happened to my mom, but it’s not contagious. Right?”
No one laughs at that one.
Blank faces all over the room.
“Listen. I don’t want to talk about my mom. Cool?”
“Cool,” Chad says from Das Boot.