Burn Girl (29 page)

The gift and his kind words caught me off guard. I accepted the bag but couldn't think of a thing to say.

“I'm sorry for how I've treated you,” he continued. “You mean a lot to Mo, and I've hurt you both by not taking the time to get to know you. I hope you can accept my apology.”

Mo sidled up beside her father and hugged him around the waist. “You're embarrassing Arlie. Go help her uncle. That's why you're here.”

He kissed the top of Mo's head and jogged over to where Frank was already showing James something on the foundation.

I felt choked up and confused. “I might just faint.”

“Not before you try these conchas,” Mo said. “I ate one on the drive over. Amazing.”

I grasped Cody's hand and we walked over to the picnic table. We sat on one bench seat while Mo sat cross-legged on the tabletop.

“Good thing Frank's picnic table didn't catch fire,” she said. “He treats it like some family heirloom.”

“He made it himself,” I said. “And it suits us more than a formal dining room.”

I watched James and Mr. Mooney scoop shovelful after shovelful of ash into the dumpster. Frank moved slowly, being careful with each movement.

“I can't believe all his hard work is gone,” I said.

Cody squeezed my hand. “You didn't start the fire. I seem to remember it was Lloyd who brought the gas can.”

He was so good at knowing what was going through my head. His freakishly acute senses never missed a thing. He and Mo were alike in that respect.

“You'd grown attached to the idea of having a house,” Mo said. “Admit it.”

“I had. I just didn't realize how much until it was taken from me,” I said.

“I already have an idea of how you should decorate your room,” she said. “We totally need a road trip to Albuquerque to shop.”

It'd been Thanksgiving when I'd last thought about returning to the city of my childhood, the day Mom had found me at the bus station. Mo was the perfect person to help me make new memories and chase away any lingering ghosts.

“I'm up for a road trip,” I said. “But only if Cody drives. You're a mess behind the wheel.”

We laughed and dug into the conchas. They weren't as good as the pastries Rosa used to bake, but they signaled a new start for me and Mo's dad—and possibly for me and Mo. Nothing could taste better.

After everyone had left for the day, Frank ordered pizza. We'd eaten takeout almost exclusively since he was released from the hospital because he didn't feel up to cooking and was tired of my scrambled eggs.

“Don't you get sick of this?” he asked.

“You've got to be kidding. I'm making up for seven years without taste buds. I could eat pizza every day for a year and not be tired of it.”

We finished a large pepperoni and then divided the cinnamon breadsticks evenly. My appetite hadn't waned since I'd regained my sense of taste. Cinnamon was my second favorite scent next to coffee.

“We'll be in the house by late July,” Frank said, stealing an extra breadstick for himself. “But we have a lot to do before then. I'm counting on you to help with the painting and trim work. We can do some of that after we move in.”

“No problem,” I said. “I'm thinking purple walls and yellow trim.”

“I'm thinking I trust Mo more than you when it comes to decorating.”

Since he was in such a good mood, I decided to broach a sticky subject again. “Any chance you've changed your mind about a television and cable?”

“Funny, you should mention that. I have a TV as well as a bunch of furniture in storage in Corpus Christi.”

“Road trip?” I'd never been anywhere but Colorado and New Mexico, so the thought of going to Texas with Frank was appealing. We could even go to Padre Island and the beach.

“Yeah, about that. I've been meaning to tell you something,” he said.

My gut clenched. “I thought we said no more secrets.”

“I wasn't keeping a secret. I was just waiting for the right time to tell you.”

I raised my eyebrows, indicating he'd better fess up. I couldn't take the suspense.

“Lily found me on Facebook,” he said. “We've been texting and emailing for about three weeks. We've spoken a few times on the phone as well.”

Lily? His old girlfriend? And Frank on Facebook?

“Okay. Mind completely blown,” I said. “Start from the beginning.”

Frank explained that his stay in the hospital—and my almost fatal confrontation with Lloyd—had made him see how tenuous life was and that we needed to do everything in our power to be happy, to live each day to the fullest. When Lily contacted him on Facebook, he took it as a sign that they might have a second chance.

“But you were together twenty years ago. Didn't she ever get married?” Lots of people reconnected with old sweethearts through Facebook, but my Frank? It was surreal.

“She's divorced now,” he said with a slight smile. “Isn't that just the saddest thing you ever heard?”

I was having a hard time synthesizing the news and Frank's playful mood. “What does any of this have to do with your television?”

“Well … I asked her to get some stuff from my storage unit … and, uh, bring it when she visits next month.”

“Holy cow.”

I don't know what my face looked like, but worry clouded Frank's in response.

“I'm sorry, Arlie. I should've said something sooner. Don't be angry with me.”

“No … no, it's okay. I'm just stunned. This is good news. I mean, it's great news.” No longer hungry, I put down the half-eaten breadstick I'd been holding.

“Really? Because I'm pretty psyched and I'd hoped you'd be too.” The furrow eased from his brow. He was now animated, explaining all the things I'd love about her and all the things we could do when she visited.

Jealousy pricked at my heart, but I hoped his happiness would help dispel it. After all, I had Cody. Why shouldn't Frank have someone special? I just needed to take it one step at a time instead of reacting to all the what-ifs—especially the “what if Frank and Lily marry and then I'll have a pseudo mom” scenario.

“You sure you're okay with this?” he said. “I still sense storm clouds brewing.”

How could I tell Frank I wanted it to be just us for a while? Our first few months together had been anything but normal.

“It's just a visit, Arlie. It's not like we're getting married.”

“Oh, I know,” I said. “I'm happy for you. Really. And I'm happy for us. To start over.”

Part of me was glad I was still seeing Jane and going to therapy. I had more to sort out than I'd thought.

In the chaos of the last few weeks, I'd forgotten to donate Mom's clothing and her old suitcase to the thrift store. When Lloyd trashed our trailer, he'd dumped the contents onto the floor. I'd stuffed them back in until I was ready to deal with it again.

After Frank went to sleep, I opened the suitcase. I knew each piece by heart—which shirts used to be her favorites and which she rarely wore. I brought one of her tees up to my nose, hoping some last bit of her scent lingered. It didn't.

It was time for me to move on. Frank was obviously excited about building a new life with Lily. I'd been given so many second chances that I'd lost count. Tomorrow, I'd wash the clothes and bring them to the thrift store.

I opened the drawer to the nightstand and retrieved Mom's notebook. That, I'd keep. The writings might just be gibberish, but they obviously meant something to her. Mo suggested I use the words or phrases in the notebook to write a “found” poem. I'd never heard of using words found in everyday objects like magazines or books or menus or even a cereal box as inspiration for poems, but I liked the idea of creating something new out of the old.

Also in the nightstand was something else I planned to keep. Recently, Dora had left an envelope in our mailbox. A sticky note on top read, “I should have given this to you sooner. I love you and want to see you again when you're ready.”

The envelope contained a letter from Mom, written the day she died.

Baby girl,

I hope you know I'd never let anyone hurt you, but today your stepdad was here. He found us. And it's my fault. I stole some money from him before we left Albuquerque. I was stupid to think he wouldn't track us down. I told him you'd run away to Texas. I have a brother there, in Corpus Christi. Frank. I know he'll take you in.

I asked Dora to give you this letter if something happens to me. Just ask her or Mo for bus fare and get out of Durango.

Please be safe. Please go to college. Please find someone who'll love you to the moon and back. You deserve it.

Love, Mom

I
was
safe now. And I'd found someone to love me to the moon and back. I hoped Mom knew these things now.

CHAPTER 34

Cody and Mo sat on either side of me. We'd been watching kayakers do rolls in the river. The Animas had hit its peak the first week in June so it was teeming with kayaks and commercial rafts holding a dozen people each. Every time a raft overturned, Mo and I described the frantic, bobbing tourists to Cody. Most of them just laughed after being plunged into the ice-cold water.

“I don't understand why we couldn't have gone rafting.” Mo handed me sunscreen, but I waved her away.

“Because the water is forty degrees,” Cody said. “And there are too many tourists. We'll go soon.”

I was glad to just be on the shore with Mo and Cody, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sense of normalcy they brought to my life. Since the beginning of summer, both had stuck to me like glue holding together a fragile, once-broken vase. I couldn't blame them. The incident with Lloyd had made us all very aware of the importance of friendship and trust.

I hadn't been able to rebuild trust with Dora as easily and hadn't seen her since the day Lloyd confronted me. Still, I vowed to call her and ask if we could meet for coffee in the next few days. How could I still punish her for lying about Lloyd and Frank if everyone had forgiven me for my lies? Neither of us felt we had choices, and both of us were protecting people we loved.

Dora believed Mom's overdose was an accident, but there was no way to know for sure. For a while, I tortured myself with speculating about whether she'd left me on purpose, what she could have done differently, and what I could have done differently. From time to time, I still wondered if Lloyd had played a larger role in her death.

Cody leaned in closer. “I don't have to see your face to know you've gone somewhere dark.”

“What's Cody talking about? You okay?” Mo was super-sensitive to my moods, and his remark drew her back to the conversation.

“Not too dark,” I assured them. “I have some complicated feelings to work through.”

“Well, you have me and Mo and Frank to talk to. And, of course, Jane,” Cody said.

“Especially Jane.” Mo rubbed my arm and then quickly turned her attention back to the river.

Since my arrest and subsequent release, I'd been seeing my therapist twice a week again. Although the plea bargain mandated it, I'd have gone on my own. Yes, it was difficult to look at how close I'd come to killing another human being, but I had to understand that piece of myself—the anger and fear and desperation that drove my actions. And I had to find a way to forgive myself and move on.

Mo and I had also worked hard to mend our friendship over the past month. She even suggested we see Jane together a couple of times, and it had made all the difference in how quickly we could trust each other again.

“I'm telling you, we're missing out!” Mo pointed to another capsized raft. “Can we please go tomorrow?”

“Whatever you want, Mo,” Cody answered for us. We were a couple now, one unit.

When she ran down to the river's edge to heckle some of her friends thrashing around in the water, I moved to Cody's lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. I loved that when he kissed me, he was never the first one to pull away. I liked to think we'd go on kissing forever if I didn't stop.

He reached up and ran his fingers through my hair. “I like it short. Will you keep it like this?”

His touch sent an electric current down my spine. “Definitely, if you promise to keep doing that.” I kissed him again.

I glanced up to see Mo had jumped in the river, fully clothed, and was now holding out a lost paddle to her friend.

“It's so freaking cold!” she shouted to us.

“That maniac changed my life,” I said. “I'm a better person for knowing her.”

“I think you both changed each other's lives for the better,” Cody said. “I know you've changed mine.”

“And you, mine.” Our lips met again and I shut out the summer sounds around us until Mo's shouting broke through our PDA.

“Hey, look! It's Frank and Lily!” She motioned for us to join her.

I took Cody by the elbow and guided him over the boulders until we reached the sandy strip near the water's edge.

We whistled and hooted to get their attention. Lily waved first. When Frank spotted us, he raised his oar above his head. A silly grin stayed plastered to his face as the raft went by. He looked like a love-struck teenager. I hoped that was the way he felt. It'd just be one more thing we had in common.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Although writing can be a solitary endeavor, I've never felt alone on this journey. My husband, Andy, has been the consummate cheerleader/therapist/coffeemaker who reminded me countless times that it was a question of “when,” not “if.”

First, many thanks to my agent, J. L. Stermer of N. S. Bienstock, and her assistant, Sammy Bina, who embraced Arlie's story and found it a home at Albert Whitman and Company. I'm grateful that my editor there, Wendy McClure, championed the project and made it even stronger.