Lillian rushed in and hugged me. “Why didn’t you answer the door sooner?”
“I was taking a nap, and I didn’t hear you, I guess. Sorry.”
“You scared me.” She offered a warm, matronly smile. “Hey, I brought you some dinner.” She held up a McDonald’s bag.
I grabbed it from her hands and pulled out a burger and fries. I gobbled several fries, then offered some to my sister.
“No, thanks. I already ate. That’s all for you.” Lillian pulled the armchair in the room to the side of the bed.
While I devoured the meal, Lillian said, “Your mom came to the house looking for you.”
“You didn’t tell her where I was, did you?”
“Of course not. If I had, she would already have come to get you. Mark played it really cool. He said you probably ran off to one of your friends’ houses.”
“What did Mom say?”
“She was worried about you.”
Part of me longed to hear that my mother had changed her mind about moving to Denver, that she’d come to her senses and realized she didn’t want to put her kids in the horrible situation that awaited us there. But I knew that just wasn’t possible. “What did she do?”
“She left. I guess she went back home.”
I wish I could go there and comfort her, tell her I hadn’t meant to hurt her by leaving, tell her I wanted to be with her and Celia, just not working for Dan Jordan. I couldn’t hold back a yawn. “I can’t believe I’m so tired. I slept for most of the day.”
“Yes, but you’ve gone through a lot.” Lillian checked her watch. “Listen, I need to get back home. Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”
“You’ll pick me up tomorrow, right?”
“Yes. I’ll be here by 9:00 a.m.”
“Then I’ll be fine. It’s just one night.”
Lillian hugged me tight and left.
Exhaustion took over, and I barely moved all night.
I woke early the next morning and watched reruns of Sesame Street until Lillian arrived. She knocked lightly on the door, and when I opened it, Lillian was talking to someone behind her. My eyes widened in shock when I saw my sister Marilyn, who was three years older than I was. Lillian gave me a paper bag with a couple of pieces of cold toast inside. “Sorry I couldn’t get you donuts again, but I’m in a hurry to go open the shop.”
I kept staring at Marilyn, waiting for an explanation. “What? How?”
Lillian glanced from me to Marilyn and back again. “Oh, sorry. I guess I didn’t tell you. Marilyn is going to stay with you for the next few days until things settle down.”
Marilyn offered me a weak smile. Though I’d seen her just before I left our house the previous day, it seemed like weeks ago. She looked tired. I understood completely. Leaving family, leaving everything you’re used to, everything you hold dear, takes a toll on you.
Lillian reached inside her purse and took out a few bills and coins. “Here’s some cash for the vending machine. Stay inside the room unless absolutely necessary. I’ll stop back by soon to bring you food and check on you.” With that, Lillian left.
“I-I didn’t know you were leaving too,” I said.
“Yeah, same here. I had no idea until Lillian told me on the way over here.”
I sat down on the bed I had been using. “So how are you doing?”
Marilyn plopped down on the other bed with a big sigh. “I’m scared.”
I nodded. “I know how you feel.”
She burst out laughing. “That’s so true. If anyone can understand how I feel, it’s you.”
I joined her in laughter, despite the gravity of our situation.
Over the next few days, Marilyn and I had many such talks as we bared our souls to one another and faced our fears. I found comfort in having her there, someone who was going through the same thing I was. TV and Lillian’s visits with fast food were all we had to break up the long days in hiding.
After we had been confined for three days, Lillian showed up one evening without food. “Girls, I have some news that I will tell you at dinner. We’re going out to eat tonight.”
“What?” My heart leapt at the thought of leaving the self-imposed prison, but I worried about being spotted.
“That’s right. You’re leaving. It’s time to go home.”
Marilyn and I cast panicked glances at one another.
“Well, it’s time to go to my home. It’s finally safe for you to leave the motel.”
Lillian, Marilyn, and I hugged each other, gathered a couple of toiletry items, and left the room. The three of us walked to the front desk to check out and return the key. A different clerk —a thin man with red hair and freckles —gave Lillian the printed receipt.
We got into Lillian’s car and headed out of the La Quinta Inn parking lot and onto the crowded Houston streets.
We drove most of the way in silence. At first, my eyes were half-closed, but when we passed some familiar landmarks, I sat up. We were close to my house. “What are you doing? What if they haven’t left yet?”
“They have. Someone checked on the house, and it’s deserted. Your things are still there, though, so we’re stopping by to get them.”
I pictured my siblings and half-siblings, forced to move yet again. “Did the kids know where they were going?”
“No, your mom just told everyone they had to leave again, that Houston was no longer safe.”
I cringed when I heard that. Houston was safer than any other place we’d ever lived. Mark and Lillian loved us and really wanted what was best for us. They provided us with a good education and a nice place to live, and when we worked for them, we were actually paid —more than we ever made in Denver. What was Mom thinking?
Lillian pulled into the driveway of the recently abandoned house. Marilyn and I slowly got out of the car, still skittish that Mom or Dan would appear around the corner and haul us back to Denver. Lillian used her extra key to get inside. It felt dark and ominous, but I was determined to collect my belongings, something I’d never been able to do before. I packed up all my clothes and the little odds and ends that held meaning for me, filling three small boxes and two paper bags. Marilyn quietly packed her things as well. The house felt empty and eerie, so we worked quickly. Lillian helped us carry our boxes and bags to the car.
Marilyn and I rode in silence, our belongings piled on our laps. I struggled to process everything that had just happened, but the stillness and quiet felt peaceful.
Lillian broke the silence. “Marilyn, you’ll be staying with Ramona for a while.”
Marilyn’s face brightened. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lillian drove to Ramona’s house and pulled into the driveway. I got out of the car and hugged Marilyn good-bye. I knew I’d see her soon, but we had lived through such a powerful event, having only one another for support. Lillian helped Marilyn carry her bags of clothes to the front door, but she returned quickly.
Before Lillian backed out of the driveway, she turned toward me. “Ready to go to your new home?”