Arty grumped and groaned and stomped, but came back
out in a minute with a box of cheese crackers. He hurtled
himself into a beanbag placed close enough to the TV he
could have read Braile on the screen, and turned on
cartoons loud enough to make me wince. He wasn't happy
to scoot back or turn it down, but he did. I tried to ignore
the crumbs spewing from his mouth with each guffaw.
I took my bag up the narrow stairs and down the dark,
close hal to the room at the back of the house. My mom
close hal to the room at the back of the house. My mom
had taken the front room, overlooking the street, with a
panel of four large windows. Arty's smaler room was
between hers and the bathroom. The room at the end
should've been a nice den, a sewing room, a playroom, but
for some reason nobody in the house used it.
There was a bed, at least, a creaking twin bed that
matched one of the dressers I'd inherited from my
grandma. The sheets were clean, and the bedspread, and
my mom had laid out clean towels for me, too. I set my
bag on the rickety, spindle-legged chair I'd never have
dared sit on, and I colapsed onto the bed. The ceiling had
cracks in it, and water damage. One high, narrow window
had a blind but no curtain. That would be pleasant in the
morning.
"Paiiiiige! I'm hungry!"
The wail drifted up the stairs and I heaved myself out of
the bed to holer, "I'l be right down!"
When I yanked the door opposite the foot of the bed,
though, al I did was chip a nail on the knob. The door
stayed stubbornly shut. Not the closet, then. It must have
been the door to the attic. I tried the one next to the
been the door to the attic. I tried the one next to the
dresser, revealing a set of wire hangers I used to quickly
hang my work clothes for the next couple days. Then it
was downstairs to the kitchen, which looked as if it had
been cleaned in preparation for my arrival.
Which meant my mom had wiped down the counters and
cleared out the sink, but the floor was a little sticky in front
of the fridge and crumbs coated the table. When I was
younger, it had never occurred to me that other people
stored leftover food in the fridge or the freezer. When we
got pizza it often stayed out on the counter until it was
gone. Sometimes she put it, stil in the box, in the oven until
we remembered to take it out and throw it away. My mom
cooked but haphazardly, so spaghetti sauce had always
made Rorschach blots on the stovetop and stiff noodles
stuck to the ceiling where she'd tossed them to see if the
pasta was done.
When I was in elementary school, I'd come down with
food poisoning. To be fair, it wasn't my mom's fault. I'd
spent the day with my dad at his country-club pool, where
they fed me extravagantly on fries and hot dogs instead of
making me eat the peanut butter and jely sandwich my
mom had packed for me. I brought it home and ate the
sandwich later that night for dinner. An hour after that, the
sandwich later that night for dinner. An hour after that, the
world began to spin. An eternal half hour after that, I
started to puke.
I had a morbid fear of food gone bad after that. I wouldn't
eat anything I suspected, even vaguely, of having turned.
When I opened my mom's fridge and saw the containers
and jars, al potentialy swimming with bacteria, my
stomach clenched tight in protest.
"Let's go out to eat, okay?"
I didn't have to say it twice. My arms filed with squirming
little boy as Arty tried to squeeze the breath out of me and
mostly succeeded. I put the kibosh on McDonald's, but
conceded to Wendy's, where he thought he tricked me
into letting him get a Frosty, when realy I just wanted an
excuse to get one for myself.
Inside the restaurant, Arty launched himself across the
room. "Leo!" Arty seemed incapable of using a voice at
anything less than a shout, but Leo didn't seem to care. He
patiently let Arty leap al over him, then looked at me over
the top of Arty's head.
"Hey, Paige."
"Hey, Paige."
I stuttered for a second. "What…hey. What are you doing
here?"
He lifted his bag of food. "Getting dinner."
Arty had settled back down to the toy he'd found in his
kids' meal bag. Leo was hesitating, but I gestured at the
table, and he sat. "It's good to see you, Leo."
"You, too. What's been going on?"
Of al my mom's boyfriends over the years, Leo was the
one I liked the best. He'd never tried to be my dad, and he
hadn't forced friendship on me, either. Maybe it was
because I was already grown up and moved out of my
mom's house when they started dating.
I glanced at Arty, lost in his own world of ketchup-firing
French-fry cannons. "I thought you and my mom were
going away together."
Leo's eyes never left mine, though his mouth set into a hard
line centered in his bushy, biker beard. "Obviously, we
didn't."
"So where did she go?"
He shrugged and looked away. "That's between you and
your mom, Paige."
Another guy? It had to be. Why else would Leo look so…
lost? And on a man his size, with that beard, the tattoos
and the denim biker vest, lost wasn't a look I'd ever
expected to see.
"I gotta run," Leo said and leaned across the table to ruffle Arty's hair. "Take care of the kiddo."
"Of course." I watched him head out and turned back to
Arty. "Where did Mama say she was going?"
"To a spar," he said.
"A spa?"
"Yeah, that's what I said. A spa. She's going to get a
message."
I sighed. "A massage?"
He grinned, showing the gap between his teeth where he'd
He grinned, showing the gap between his teeth where he'd
lost one. "Yeah."
"Alone?"
"I guess so." Arty shrugged.
It wasn't like I could realy expect him to know more, but
why had she lied to me?
I woke, disoriented, when a smal hand tugged my arm.
Expecting Arty, I sat up and fumbled for the light next to
my bed, but there wasn't one. I blinked until my eyes
focused, but my brother wasn't hovering over me. The
touch I'd felt had come from nothing.
I sat straight up, the blankets I'd tucked so carefuly
around me fighting against me now. At the foot of my bed
stood two smal children, both about Arty's age, clutching
each other's hands. Pale, white children I didn't need a
lamp to see because they both gleamed in the darkness.
Pale children with empty black holes where their eyes
should've been and blood dripping from their ragged
fingertips. Behind them, the attic door gaped wide.
I waited for the blood to start pouring out of the door like
it did in The Shining, but al that happened was they
it did in The Shining, but al that happened was they
stared. And stared. The pounding of my heart became a
roar and I did the only thing I had the courage to do. I
closed my eyes, then clapped my hands over them, too.
Nothing happened until I heard a smal voice whisper,
"Take care of us."
Then I screamed, and screamed and screamed…until I sat
straight up in bed to the sound of my phone ringing. The
attic door was stil closed. No ghostly children were
begging me to adopt them. The room wasn't even that
dark, lit as it was by the light from an outside streetlamp
through the window.
I stumbled out of bed and dug in my purse for my cel. My
heart had started pounding again, but for a different
reason. I got al kinds of texts and cals in strange hours,
but this one felt wrong, and I didn't recognize the number.
"Ms. DeMarco?"
"Yes, who's this?"
"This is Dr. Philips at the Hershey Med Center. I'm sorry
to cal you so late, but your mother's surgery has had some
to cal you so late, but your mother's surgery has had some
complications—"
I had to blink twice to make sure I wasn't stil dreaming
and even then I wasn't convinced. "I'm sorry, hold on a
second. Her surgery?"
"The breast-reconstruction surgery had some complica
tions," he explained patiently, probably used to waking
people up to give them bad news. "She's running a high
fever and has been hemorrhaging."
My mother had gone and got herself a boob job. I gritted
my teeth. "You're her plastic surgeon?"
"Yes. I've been working closely with her oncologist, Dr.
Frank, since your mother was diagnosed."
I was stil stupid. "Wait a minute. Her oncologist? I thought
she was having her breasts done."
"Your mother had a double mastectomy," the doctor said.
"With a planned reconstruction. But as I said, there are
complications."
I sagged against the headboard. "What kind of
complications?"
complications?"
"Can you come to the hospital?" he said. "I think you should."
Chapter 33
Leo probably hadn't even gone to bed yet when I caled
him to come sit with Arty and get him on the bus in the
morning. He was there in fifteen minutes. I should've been
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