This Secret Thing, стр. 82
She heard barking and looked around. She’d forgotten all about Barney. She scanned the yard until she spotted a cage. She could just make out his brown nose poking out, protesting as he struggled uselessly to escape. She ran over and squatted down to make eye contact with him. He stopped barking and panted when he saw her. “Hey, boy,” she said in the most soothing voice she could muster. “It’s OK.” She slid her hand between the bars till it reached his velvety muzzle, stroking as best she could.
She felt someone standing over her and looked up to find an officer looking down at her. “You can’t let him out just yet,” he said. “Sorry,” he added. He squatted down beside her and, together, they studied the captive dog. “He yours?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. He’s my grandmother’s.” She gestured over at Polly. “But I take care of him sometimes.” She grabbed the cage wire and Barney sniffed her fingers hopefully.
“He’s had a hard night,” the officer said. “I guess you all have.”
He gave her a sympathetic smile. He was young and handsome. He seemed like someone she could trust, someone who would do the right thing. With her free hand, she reached into her pocket and let the drive fall onto the grass. She glanced down to make sure it hadn’t disappeared underneath the leaves that had been steadily blanketing the yard in the past few weeks. It landed in an open spot of grass right between them, but the cop didn’t notice. He kept talking to Barney, promising the dog he would get out soon.
“I’m gonna go check on my grandmother now,” she said. She stood, her heart racing. If she didn’t say anything, he likely wouldn’t see the drive; she could still take it back. She waited for him to stand up, too.
“I’ll let you know just as soon as he can get out, OK?” he asked. “It’s no fun being cooped up like that, is it, boy?” he asked Barney. And Violet thought of her mother, and freedom.
“I think you dropped something,” she said, and pointed at the ground. She hoped he didn’t notice her finger shaking.
She watched him spot the drive, shining white against the dark grass, and bend down to pick it up, a curious look on his face, before she walked away, leaving him to figure out what he’d found, hoping he realized what he had.
Casey
She sat on a hard chair in the emergency room waiting area, dialing her father again and again, wishing he’d answer. But he was MIA. He was supposed to be working late, but if he was, he would’ve answered by now. Nicole was at a friend’s, waiting for their dad to come get her and bring her to the hospital. Whenever Casey got ahold of him, that was. Casey had spoken with her little sister only briefly, but it had been the most pleasant conversation they’d had since she’d come home. She wished it didn’t have to be like that, wished everything could’ve been different. Mostly she just wished for her mother to be OK.
She tried not to think about how pale Bess had looked, how much blood she’d lost, how scary the ambulance ride had been with the technicians working on her the whole way. “Your mom will be OK,” they’d assured her, but Casey feared that they told everyone that, whether it was true or not. She feared whatever was happening to her mom back in that trauma room, feared the moment they would come out and tell her that Bess was dead. She would be all alone. She had come home to not be alone, yet she’d ended up that way anyway.
She looked up from her phone and scanned the room, then turned and looked at the doorway to the waiting area, willing her father to appear. But the doorway stayed empty. The lady behind the registration desk watched her. They exchanged glances, then the lady pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. The lady felt sorry for her. She was a victim, the object of someone’s sympathy and concern. She was tired of being a victim.
Suddenly someone waved a can of soda in front of her eyes. She looked up to see who it was, maybe Polly and Violet. Instead she saw a familiar set of eyes, brown and kind and also sad. But not sad for her, like the lady behind the desk, sad with her. Eli sat down in the empty chair beside her. “I came as soon as I heard.” He tossed his arm around her. The movement was casual, friendly. She didn’t feel threatened or uncomfortable. She just felt comforted. It wasn’t her mom or her dad or her sister. He wasn’t related to her in any way. But he felt like family.
She wondered if that was what love was: not sex and not attraction and not romance—not any of those things. She wondered if it wasn’t just this: sitting in a hospital together, showing up without being told you were needed. Knowing that Sprite was what you always wanted when you were upset. She popped the top and took a long pull.
“I was with someone else,” she blurted out. Because if he was going to leave her, she needed him to go before