The hotel room was clean and neat and pretty. All shades of green and blue with striped covers on the beds and some kind of painting that I guess was supposed to be a river. Or a bridge. Or maybe a sandwich.
I went into the little bathroom and shut the door. I just needed a second to myself. I needed to be in a space where Mace didn’t exist and I didn’t have to look at her rock star haircut or breathe the same air she was breathing. I shrugged my backpack off, unzipped the little side pocket, and pulled out the KOB Trip had given me one hundred years ago on his hill. I had kept my promise. It was still folded. I tucked it deep and safe into the pocket of my jeans.
When I came out, Mace hadn’t moved from the bed. I didn’t know how to handle all the things I couldn’t help thinking around her. But I knew I could Say It Like It Is.
“Listen,” I said. “I—I appreciate your help and especially getting around the city and all. I plan to pay you back every penny. Trip already knew I was going to pay him back. I work hard and I can babysit.”
Mace sat up and shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
My face got hot. “Well, I’m sorry that money isn’t a big deal to you, and maybe you wouldn’t miss a couple hundred dollars, but for me and DiDi—”
“Defensive much?” said Mace. “I mean it’s not a big deal and—you can pay me back whenever you want. I know how hard you work, okay? What do you think DiDi talks about half the time?”
“What—what do you mean?”
Mace looked down. “Nothing.”
Then she turned away and got busy sorting her things.
She pulled out the map and began to study it.
I just stood there. And she just kept staring at the map.
“What’s at that trailer park, anyway?” she finally asked. “What’s on Red Cedar Road?”
I turned away.
Mace looked down at the map again. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” I could hear the crunch of the paper as she gripped it harder. “Why should I know?” she muttered. “I only got you all the way here and paid for everything and got us a room so we wouldn’t be murdered in the middle of the night at some random train station.”
I didn’t answer. I knew she had gotten me to the city. To the train. To this hotel. I knew how much she had done. And at that moment, it occurred to me that she was asking because Trip hadn’t said a word to her about the details. She’d done it all without even knowing why. Or what it was about.
She knew nothing about Mama. Or Cherries in the Snow.
“Forget it. It’s just—” She began studying the map again. “Forget it. Here, give me your phone.”
I didn’t know what to do for a second; then I fished Haven’s phone out of my bag and handed it to her.
“I’ll add my number just in case you—you screw up and need me to bail you out.”
I watched as she busied herself setting up the phone for me.
When she was finished, she handed the phone back. “I guess you’re ready.”
I took it. And still didn’t say anything. There was a long stretch of quiet.
And then it got a little longer.
Finally, Mace looked up at me. “Do you—do you want me to come wi—”
I shook my head.
She looked down again and got busy in her backpack. “Here.” She pulled a bright-pink water bottle from her bag and held it out. I just stared at it.
“It has a filter, so you can drink water from anywhere and it won’t be gross. My mom always says a body can handle just about anything as long as it’s properly hydrated.”
I took the water, because taking it just somehow felt like the only way I could actually give her something.
There was nothing more to say. She folded the map and handed it to me, then picked up the phone to call for a cab.
I held the map tightly.
Like it was filled with answers, and I didn’t want a single one to escape.