Sometimes Mom can be insightful without even realizing it.
My mother is incapable of real love. It explains so much.
? ? ?
The next time Mom calls, she’s shouting into the phone and I can’t understand what she’s saying. It’s only after I tell her to calm down that I realize she’s crying hysterically.
I mouth to Jamie that she’s crying, and he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. I start to make a joke about changing my number, when Mom’s voice cuts so roughly into the phone that I feel like I’ve been stabbed with a rusty, jagged blade.
“Shoji is in the hospital. He tried to kill himself.”
? ? ?
I don’t draw. I spend all night trying to get ahold of Shoji, but nobody will let me talk to him.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Jamie brings pancakes to the guest room. It’s almost nine in the morning, but I’ve been up crying since five. Jamie knows this because he spent the whole night lying next to me, telling me everything was going to be okay.
I push myself up. I feel groggy. “Thanks.”
He puts the tray in my lap and sits next to me. “I can drive back with you, if you want.”
It takes a lot of effort to cut off a bite of pancake—there’s no strength left in my arm. “You don’t have to do that. I think I just need to be with my brother.”
I’m struggling to comprehend it. Shoji didn’t seem particularly happy, but none of us did. It never occurred to me that Shoji was dealing with everything worse than me—I was always the problem. I was always the one in trouble for stirring the pot of our screwed-up family.
Shoji was the quiet one. The one who seemed to be able to ignore everything the best.
I had no idea how much he was hurting.
I’m the worst sister in the world.
Mom insists she doesn’t know why he did it, even though Shoji begged the doctors and Dad not to let her see him.
In the afternoon, Mom calls to say she needs me to come home tomorrow. Even though I was already planning to go home, and even though I feel like this should be my choice and not hers, I’m too tired to fight with her.
She’s not crying anymore, but she’s somehow found more energy through the night. “Your dad is trying to tell me Shoji is going to live with him. Can you believe how ridiculous this is getting?”
I flinch at her choice of words. “I think everyone needs to do what’s best for Shoji right now.”
“The best thing for him is to be with his mother. Not around two newborns and a father he barely sees,” she says testily.
“Maybe he asked to stay with Dad.”
“Just because you hate me doesn’t mean everyone else does,” she snaps.
“I can’t do this today,” I growl into the phone. I’ve barely slept. My little brother is hurting. My dad is just trying to do what’s best. Why does my mom have to overcomplicate everything?
“I’m in pain too, you know,” she argues. “You don’t have kids. You don’t know how it feels to have one of your children hurt themselves. Nobody ever cares how I feel. This is hard on me, too.”
“I have to go. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” I hang up before she can infect my mind with anything else.
The air on the balcony is heavy, making it harder to breathe than usual.
Or maybe it’s just me. I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I want to get to Shoji, to ask him if he’s okay.
Oh my God, he’s not okay, is he? He tried to kill himself.
Elouise taps on the glass door. “Jamie and Brandon went to get the groceries. They didn’t want to interrupt your phone call.” She’s holding a wineglass in one hand and a book in the other. “Any news?”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I think he’s okay. He’s been asking to live with my dad, I think, so he’s well enough to talk to people.”
Frustration flickers in her eyes. “I’m sure your father will make sure he’s fine. Do you know when you’re going back?”
“Tomorrow.” I expect to see relief in her eyes, but I don’t. She looks a little sad.
“I can imagine this isn’t the way you wanted to say good-bye, but at least you’ll be back soon.” She takes a sip of her wine and sits down in one of the chairs.
Sickness fills my stomach. “I can’t leave Shoji all by himself.”
She blinks in surprise. “You’re not coming back?”
“I don’t know. How can I? He’s only staying with Dad because he hates Mom, but what happens when he realizes Dad abandoned us a long time ago too?” I don’t mean to say it, but the words are pouring out of me like they’re foaming right from the edge of my mouth. “Dad was never around. Not after his affair. Maybe if he was, Shoji could have had someone else to talk to. Maybe all of us wouldn’t have been left to deal with Mom on our own. He replaced us with a new family. How’s Shoji going to feel when he realizes he doesn’t belong there? He needs a real family. He needs a better sister.” I can’t stop crying. I feel like I’ve failed him.
Elouise looks like she’s being suffocated by something too heavy for her to push away. It draws me in—a secret that she wants ripped off for good.
“What is it?” I wipe my eyes with my sleeve.
“Your dad didn’t have the affair, honey. It was Brandon with—” She doesn’t want to say it. Not out loud, and not to me. But maybe the truth was too heavy for too long.
Everything goes still. The air presses down on me and I can’t move.
“It was Mom.” My voice is hollow. I’m hollow. Mom had the affair. With Jamie’s dad.
The wineglass trembles in Elouise’s grip. “I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m sorry. You were upset. I thought it would make you feel better about your dad, but . . .” She shakes her head and gulps down the rest of her wine.
Something inside me dies. I think it might have been the dream. “Did Jamie know?”
She doesn’t have to say a word—her eyes already give away the answer.
He knew. He knew the whole time.
? ? ?
I rip out every sketch I ever drew that reminds me of Jamie. Hiroshi thought they were honest, but they’re not. They can’t be. Because Jamie lied to me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Jamie reaches for me, but I push his hands away. If he touches me, if I feel his skin and remember how gentle and soft his lips are on mine, I’ll crash into his arms and never reemerge.
It takes everything inside me to be strong.
“I’m sorry, Kiko. I didn’t know how to tell you. I tried, but—”
“—but you didn’t.” The skin under my eyes boils with tears. “You knew my mom cheated. You knew she broke up my family, and you never told me.”
His hands extend toward me, but I step backward in to his desk.
“You don’t get it.” Tears burst from my eyes. “All this time, I thought it was my fault. I thought my parents split up because of”—I try to push Uncle Max from my memories—“because of me. I thought I was the reason they were fighting. Because of what I told my mom.”