Eight

Our gravel driveway is dotted with puddles of leftover rain. Dragonflies zoom about, taking sips of water before it evaporates in the midday heat. As I kick off my boots and toss them onto the welcome mat, Pepper spins on the kitchen floor and then bolts for her stuffed zebra. I catch a glimpse of Mom closing the blinds in the living room.

“Hey, Tiger,” Mom says when I find her stretched out on the couch. “It’s a hot one … today.”

The coffee table has some legal-looking papers and three stacks of files strewn across it. House. Medical. Lily.

“So how was your date?” she asks, lingering on the last word.

I shoot her a playful evil eye. “Stop it.” I feel my face flush.

“You’re blushing.” She sits up and pats the cushion beside her. “Come on. Tell me why.” Her eyes beg for a tiny bit of detail and I know I have to give in.

I flop onto the sofa and sigh. “He kissed me and it was nice and weird all at the same time.”

Her face lights up like she’s seeing me walk for the first time. “Oh, Lily!”

“Don’t get too excited. I told him we’re better off just friends.”

Her shoulders slump a little. “I see,” she says.

In a matter of seconds, I’d given her hope and a glimpse into my life, then dashed it all away without thinking. “For now,” I add. “We’re just friends for now.”

“And friends are good.” She winks at me, leans back into the cushions, and sighs deeply.

I lean forward and reach for my file but Mom sets her foot on it. “Not now, sweetie.” She sits up and gathers the papers. “I need a nap.” Her arms, shoulders, neck, and head wriggle as the papers slip into one another.

“Leave them, Mom,” I say, rubbing her shoulder. Her tremor sends vibrations all the way up to my elbow. “I won’t look through them. I promise.”

She takes deep breath and lets her arms fall to her lap. “I’m sorry.”

I wrap my arms around her. I hug firmly and absorb her quaking. “Don’t be sorry, Mom. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

We’re wrapped together for almost ten minutes before her breathing becomes slow and steady and her body still.

“Let’s get you to bed now,” I whisper.

I hook my arm around her as she shuffles beside me to her room. Pepper tiptoes alongside with her ears down and the zebra dangling from her mouth.

“Can I get you some ice water, or tea?”

She melts onto the bed and closes her eyes instantly. “Crank the air.”

I switch her air on full blast. It sputters as Mom lets out a moan. I swivel around to see her pushing Pepper away from her.

I snap my fingers and point to the door. Pepper jumps down and slinks out of the room.

Mom’s propped up on an elbow. Her eyes are wide and flicking side to side. She moans again. “Get my waste basket.”

I snatch the basket from beside her bed and hold it under her chin. She gags and squeezes her eyes shut. I wipe her forehead and hold her hair back while she vomits.

She pushes the basket away and rests on her side. “It’s the heat.”

I dab her face with a tissue. “Oh, Mom. Maybe I should stay in here with you.”

“No.” She covers her eyes. “I just need … to be still.”

I pull the liner out of the wastebasket and tie it. “Get some rest now.”

The red light on our phone glows in the darkened living room. I pull the window shades up halfway, letting in some warmth along with the light, and hit play. There are two hang-up calls before I hear Shauna’s voice.

“Hi, Lily. It’s Shauna. Get your ass out of bed. Mom found a date and freed me from wedding duty. It’s going to be stifling hot today. Wanna go swimming or catch a movie? Call me.”

I’m tired from riding and worried about Mom, but the thought of a swim sure is tempting. Half of me wants to go, and the other half is saying stay until Mom gets up. I throw a load of towels in the washing machine. My swimsuit top dangles on the drying rope in the laundry room. It’s crispy and still smells like the hay I hauled the last time I wore it. Oh, who cares. It’s only Shauna. “Just go,” I tell myself.

I punch her phone number fast. Her voice is all excited when she answers.

After we make our plans, I make a few sandwiches. I wrap one in foil for Mom, put it in the refrigerator, and toss the other two into my school cooler.

Mom’s been sleeping almost an hour by the time Shauna pulls into the drive. I race to the door to be sure she doesn’t ring the doorbell and make Pepper bark. Pepper pushes through my legs, nudges the screen door, and bolts to Shauna.

“Hey, Pooch!” Shauna slaps her thighs and crouches to greet her. “She’s such a great dog, Lily. Should we bring her to Miller’s Pond?”

Before I can answer, Shauna’s getting Pepper all wound up. “Wanna go swimming? Wanna catch a stick? Oh, you’re a good girl!”

I pick up a stray tennis ball and laugh as Pepper jumps into the back seat of Shauna’s car. “Guess there’s no saying no now. I’ll get a towel for her and let my mom know I’m leaving.”

When I peek into the room, Mom’s breathing is deep and heavy. It won’t be long before it’s a good snore, I’m sure, so I leave her a note and place it on her water glass.

Went to Miller’s Pond with Shauna. Back at dark. Turkey sandwich in the fridge. XXOO Lily

I reach the screen door and suddenly have this urge to go crumple that note and stay home after all. I feel like telling Shauna I can’t go. Then I spot her in the driver’s seat, wearing some ridiculously huge sunglasses while Pepper licks her cheek. I smile and click the door closed behind me.

Pepper sticks her head out as we cruise the back roads toward our old swimming spot. She sneezes and snuffles and aims her nose to the wind. Shauna flips through the radio stations and settles on a country tune. She belts it out, singing along to lyrics about a cheating man. She knows every single word.

I crack up laughing until she socks me on the shoulder and keeps on singing. I join in, trying to learn the words as I go. When the song ends, she clicks off the radio and turns onto the dirt road.

“You’ve got a good voice,” I say. “It’s funny that you know that song, because it sure doesn’t seem to fit you.”

Shauna rolls her eyes and throws the car into park under a large oak tree. “Fit me?”

I swallow and try to explain. “Well … yeah. You’re not very ‘country.’” My feeble attempt only sticks my foot deeper into my mouth.

She strums her finger across the row of hoop earrings that hang from her right ear. “Don’t assume that I’m a headbanger. I like all sorts of music.” She grabs her stuff and hops out of the car, Pepper on her heels.

I try not to regret making plans with her as I gather my things and catch up with her. “I can’t believe we used to ride our bikes all the way here,” I say as I lay my towel down.

“Yeah. Those were fun times.” Her tone is a bit cold now. She whips the tennis ball as far as she can into the lake and Pepper’s on it before Shauna even sits down.

I pick at an acorn shell and take a breath. “Shauna, I didn’t mean anything back there. It doesn’t matter to me what kind of music you like.”

She gives me a half smile and sighs. “I know. I’m just tired of people judging people on what they wear, what they listen to, what kind of car they drive. All that crap.”

I hoot. “You don’t have to explain that to me. I feel judged all the time. Or maybe it’s pity. I’m always getting the sense that people judge me because I have one parent, live in the boonies, and wear hick clothes. Yadda yadda yadda. The fact that you know country music in spite of what people think is a good thing. It keeps you interesting. Keeps them guessing, you know?”

Shauna laughs and nods her head. “That’s the name of the game. Keep them guessing.”

I bite the inside of my lip and fling the acorn into the water. “Not much to guess about me now, is there? Most people think I’m up to my elbow in manure half the time, and they’re right!” I laugh. “I have ‘country girl’ written all over me.”

Shauna slaps her leg. “A country girl who doesn’t know country and an ex-goth who’s not a headbanger. Fine pair we are!”

“Yeah, who the heck are we, anyway?”

Shauna stretches and rolls onto her stomach. “I’m not sure, but I’m glad we’re finding out.”

I grin at that as Pepper approaches us with the tennis ball. She shakes, spraying us with cool muddy water. I jump up and rub my face and arms.

Shauna flies onto her feet and rips off her shirt, revealing a tiny, leopard-print bikini top. She pats herself dry and catches me checking out her suit. “It’s my mom’s. It’s cool, isn’t it?” She adjusts the small triangles of material, trying to keep herself from popping out, and then slides her jean shorts down. She kicks them onto her towel.

“It is,” I say, trying to sound convincing. “I think you’d make the cover of Playboy in that one!” As soon as I spew those words, I fear Shauna will take it wrong again. I’m relieved when she doesn’t.

She struts and purses her lips. “A cover girl who likes country!”

“Keep ’em guessing!” I say. I hop out of my shorts, exposing my long legs and yellow, boy-cut bikini bottoms. I peel off my T-shirt and suddenly feel twelve years old again. As if Shauna has grown and changed mentally and physically while I’m stuck in time somewhere. It feels a bit surreal to be hanging out with her. We were such good friends before Dad died, and here we are again. Only this time, it’s Mom I’m losing. But there will be no blaming the world this time, and I’ll try to be a better friend. I hope she does, too, because I don’t want her to bail.

Shauna races Pepper to the water and dives under. I stand at the shoreline and test the water with my toes. Jed’s words lap the surface of my brain. It’s not good to be alone so much. I wade in fast, trying to keep up. Trying to catch up with Shauna and lost time.

We float on our backs and soak in Oregon’s record-breaking May heat wave. The chorus of spring peepers is almost deafening as Shauna nudges my side.

“I said, ‘How was your ride with Trent this morning?’”

The rays suddenly feel hotter and make my skin prickle. I splash my face and dip under. When I come up for air, I smooth my hair back and smile innocently. “It was fun.”

Shauna cups her hand and splashes me. “Fun? That’s it? I want details.”

“Of course you do, Miss Million Questions.” I giggle and push weeds out of my path as I wade toward shore.

Shauna scoops them up and winds them around her wrists. “Did he make a move on you?”

“We’re just friends, Shauna.” I wrap a towel around my head. “Riding partners.”

She stretches the triangles of her teeny bikini to their absolute fullest and still can’t cover up fully. “That’s not what I asked you. Did he make a move on you?”

I plop down onto my towel and Pepper lays her soggy head in my lap. “Oh, all right. Yes! He kissed me.” I hurry through my words. “But I told him we’re just friends. Riding partners.”

She studies my face and squints. “Riding partners. Right.” Her skeptical, lawyerlike tone makes me squirm. “I don’t believe it for a second, Lily.”

“Well, it’s true. Trent and I go too far back as friends to be anything more.” I sound convincing, even to myself. “I can’t be more than friends.”

Shauna opens her cooler and hands me a Coke. “Why? Because of Emily?” She takes a gulp of her own.

“Emily has nothing to do with this.” I throw back my head and laugh. “If anything, I’d date Trent just to piss her off.”

Shauna covers her mouth, nods her head, and leans forward, trying to keep Coke from spewing out her nose.

“Really,” I say. “He told me she didn’t want him asking for my help with Rocky and threatened to break up with him if he did. So he broke up with her.”

Shauna snorts and can barely get her words out. “He broke up with her over his horse! I love it!” She slaps the ground. “But really, it was over you. He’s always had a thing for you, and that’s irritated the crap out of Emily.” Her face beams as she says this. “It’s a good thing she has Betsy as a sidekick now or she’d be all alone.” She makes an exaggerated frown face and laughs again.

“Boo hoo,” I add, pulling our lunch closer.

As the sun dips its bottom into the horizon, a neon path of orange rolls out before us. I dig into my cooler and toss Shauna a sandwich. A pang of guilt collides with my hunger. I think of Mom, eating her sandwich alone.

“You two would make a cute couple,” Shauna says with her mouth full. “Too bad you don’t like him.” She watches me while she chews and then swallows. “Maybe I’ll go after him.”

My jaw drops. “I never said I didn’t like him,” I blurt. I bite my lip when she nods, all cocky. “You’ll make a great lawyer,” I tell her. “You just totally baited me.”

“I don’t have to be an attorney to see that you like him.” She pushes my shoulder. “Right?”

“Shauna,” I say, stroking Pepper’s head, “our parents aren’t super fond of each other. I think I started to pull away from Trent after his dad was so uncompassionate toward Mom and the bee stings. As much as Emily would like to think it was because she had some magical hold on him, there’s more to it than that. I can’t be more than friends with him even if I wanted to.”

She sits up straight. “But you would if you could?”

I remain silent. Plead the Fifth. But the answer that pops into my head is yes, I would be more than friends. Right now, though, Mom comes first, and doing anything that would upset her is not on my To Do list. It’s a small sacrifice to make.

“Oh, wow,” she says, pulling her T-shirt on. “It’s like Romeo and Juliet ! Forbidden love!”

I roll my eyes. “Not exactly. Mom wouldn’t forbid it. I just wouldn’t be able to look at his dad knowing … ” I pause and backtrack. “I just wouldn’t be able to look at his dad. Period.”

Shauna fiddles with her row of hoops and stares into the sunset. “You’re deliberately holding back on me. I can tell. You’re feeling me out to see if you can trust me.”

I study the side of her face as she continues to watch the scenery. “I’m not sure I can even trust myself, Shauna.”

She faces me. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

I shrug as we gather our stuff and pile into the car. Moths and insects attack the headlights as we drive the dirt road. Pepper stinks of algae and fish shit. She’s in her glory as her ears ride the wind.

Finally, I take the plunge. I swear Shauna to secrecy and tell her my real-life version of Romeo and Juliet. That I do have a crush on Trent but can’t get past the fact that his dad couldn’t help Mom and then made her feel silly for trying the BVT. That I doubt Trent cares what his dad thinks, but still, it’s his dad and I wouldn’t want to come between them. And that I’m trying to be Trent’s friend but I don’t know if I can trust myself with him.

Shauna whistles. “Oh boy.”

I tell her that even though I promised Mom I wouldn’t look at the files, I peeked at the first page of the one with my name on it. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the ones marked House and Medical. “I suck at keeping promises, too. Consider yourself warned.”

“I would’ve done the same thing,” she says. Then, in true Shauna fashion, she asks, “What’d it say?”

“It was her will, and it was all this legal mumbo jumbo stating everything would be left to me.” A drip forms at my nostril and I sniff it in. I rummage through her glove compartment for a napkin. I answer Shauna’s questions until my throat hurts.

She rubs my kneecap. “Don’t cry.”

“Leaving everything to me is quite ironic, actually.” I exhale and slide myself against the door. “See, the thing is, Mom doesn’t want to quit the way you think she does. She wants me to help her. If a high dose of stings doesn’t work, she’s done.” I breathe in slowly. “Seeing the will made me sick to my stomach.” I can’t look at Shauna’s face.

One hand reaches for her cross while the other tightens around the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white. “You’ll be all alone? She really asked you?”

The answer squeezes out of my brain. “No, Jed is moving in for a while. Yes, she really asked me to let her die.” Saying it all out loud has me shaking.

My head spins like a sideswiped car out of control. I find myself answering Shauna’s questions methodically, without reservation. “No, Trent doesn’t know any of this.”

Her last question breaks a moment of silence. “Are you going to do it?”

My mind argues with itself. No! What, are you crazy? That’s like murder! Yes! Of course I’ll help her. Why would I want her to continue to suffer? No! She’s living whether she likes it or not. Yes! I’ll do it whether I like it or not. Yes? No?

We pull into my driveway and Pepper jumps through the back window before the car is fully stopped. I stare at a crack in the dashboard. “I haven’t decided yet,” I say. “But with my help or not, I’m afraid she’s made up her mind.”

I look at the house. Everything is pitch dark. A wave of panic rolls my insides when I realize the porch light isn’t on. I scramble out of the car. I should have stayed home with you, Mom. I’m sorry!

Shauna leans on the passenger seat and looks up at me. “Damn, Lily. Are you sure she’s in her right mind?”

A gasp of breath escapes me. “Right mind, wrong body,” I say, slamming the car door. “My mom’s the smartest and most realistic person I know.” I stomp away, fuming and worried as I make a beeline for the darkened porch.

“Sorry!” Shauna shouts after me. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

The pounding of my heart drowns out the sound of Shauna’s wheels crunching gravel as it rolls away. I step into the quiet kitchen. Mom’s still asleep? I turn, ready to call out to Shauna, Wait! Don’t leave!

But it’s too late. I’m alone. Alone with questions pounding in my heart. What if she’s … what if Mom is already …