“You will,” Lexi promised. “I had a best friend once, and I could tell her anything. She always made me smile. I never felt alone when she was around.”
She hugged her daughter one last time and forced herself to walk away from the bed, past the copy of Jane Eyre, touching it once more (it didn’t mean anything that he’d kept it; don’t think otherwise). In the hallway, she paused and looked back.
Grace sat huddled in the big bed, looking incredibly sad and small.
“I love you, Gracie.”
“Bye, Mommy.” Grace sniffled.
“Tell your daddy I said … hey.” She closed the door behind her.
She should have run from this house as fast as she could. And she would have, if she hadn’t looked down the hallway to Mia’s room. She moved toward it almost instinctively, opened the door.
The room welcomed her as it always had, drew her in. She went to the dresser, where Mia’s phone lay beside an English lit paper with an A written across the top. A row of plastic Breyer horses lined the windowsill. There were a dozen pictures of Mia—at play rehearsal, at dance class, sitting by the beach with Zach. There were no pictures of her and Mia in the room anymore. Once, though, they’d been everywhere.
“I haven’t let myself come in here in … a while,” Jude said behind her.
Lexi spun around, her face hot. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Jude reached down for the stuffed puppy on the nightstand, picked it up. Daisy Doggy. “I used to sleep in here. It worried Miles and my therapist after a while, so I closed the door. Erica cleans it, but I don’t come in.”
“I can feel her in here,” Lexi said quietly.
“Can you? You’re lucky then.”
Lexi moved closer. “She loved this room but hated that mirror. She always said it looked like an art project. But she knew how much you liked it.”
Jude sat down on the bed. When she looked up, her eyes were glazed with tears and her mouth was an unsteady line. “Why did you drive that night?”
Lexi was actually grateful for the honesty of the question. “I’ve asked myself that a million times. Zach was hammered, and Mia wasn’t much better. Neither one of them could stand up, really. They didn’t want to call you. It was so late, and they were so drunk.” She paused. “I didn’t want to call you. I wanted you to love me so much … and then Zach got behind the wheel. I couldn’t let him drive.”
“Why did I let you go that night? I knew there would be drinking. And I gave him the keys.”
Lexi moved toward the bed, feeling like a ninety-year-old woman with rickety joints and watery eyes and sat down beside Jude. “It’s my fault, Jude. All mine.”
Jude shook her head slowly. “I wanted to believe that, didn’t I?”
“It’s the truth.”
“I’m trying to be a little more honest these days. I know you love Grace. Do you still love Zach?”
“I’ve tried to stop. I’ll keep trying.”
“You should talk to him.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“He’ll be back soon,” Jude said quietly. “Talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”
Lexi almost broke at that small kindness. It reminded her of all the conversations she’d had with Jude over the years, all the moments when they’d been like mother and daughter. It was because of Jude that Zach had taken Lexi to the dance, where everything between them had really begun. “They were so lucky to have you, Jude. And they knew it. Mia loved you so much.”
“I miss her voice.”
Lexi slipped off the bed and crawled under it, feeling beneath the slats until she found what she was looking for. Holding it, she crawled back out and sat back on her heels, offering Jude the small pink journal with an orange lily painted on the front.
“Oh my God,” Jude breathed, reaching out. “Her journal.”
Lexi placed it in Jude’s hands and then got to her feet. “I’ll go now. Tell … Zach that I’m going to call Grace once a week and I’ll write even more often.”