Never Forgotten (Never Forgotten Series) (12 page)

"Oh my God, please shoot me now,” Katie mumbled from beneath her pillow. Jen moaned next to her.

“I warned you,” I said. Katie lifted her pillow long enough to shoot daggers at me. Then she winced and dropped it back on her face again.

“Where’s the aspirin?” I asked. “I’ll get some for you.”

“Bathroom medicine cabinet. Across the hall. Disposable cups on the sink.”

I chuckled to myself, pleased that I had shown restraint last night. I did not want to be feeling what they were right now. When I opened Katie’s door, the bathroom door opened at the same time. Evan wore his pajama bottoms, but his chest was bare, a towel slung over his shoulder. I raised my eyes to his, and he grinned.

“Mornin’.” He crossed the hall, wrapped his arms around my waist, and gave me a hug. He whispered in my ear, “You look good.”

I hugged him back. Unwelcomed, David’s voice whispered in my head. I mentally pushed him away, and then stepped out of Evan’s arms. His smile faltered.

“What if your parents come upstairs?” I didn’t want him to think I was rejecting him.

“I’m just giving you a hug.”

“They wouldn’t know that.”

“Fine.” He huffed out a breath. I’d won that argument. “What are you doing anyway? Did you need the bathroom?”

“I’m getting them some aspirin. Katie said it’s in here?” I motioned to the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’ll get it for you.” He went back in and pulled a bottle from the medicine cabinet. “I’ll let you fill the water cups.”

“Thanks.”

“Give my sister my best. I’m sure she’s in a sorry state.” Evan squeezed my waist as he passed me, which made me jump. He turned and winked at me before closing his bedroom door. I filled the cups halfway with water, knowing that I’d spill them otherwise.

Why did David visit here last night? What did he want? Why, after seventeen years, was he making an appearance in my life?

“Meara? Meara!”

I shook myself from my reverie. Katie screeched like nails on a chalkboard—so much for her pounding head. I walked in the room, handing her one of the Dixie cups and two pills. She swallowed them eagerly.

“What took you so long?” she whined.

“Sorry. I thought you fell back asleep.”

“Ha! Like I could sleep through this misery.”

“Some of us are trying to!” Jen snapped from under the covers. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate Katie’s volume in the morning.

“Sorry.” Katie apologized in a quieter voice. She scooted back against her headboard. “So, Brian asked me out.”

“That’s great!” I liked Brian and Joe. I wasn’t so sure about Peter.

“Peter asked Jen out, but she turned him down.” Katie patted the covers where Jen’s head would be. “Broke his heart.”

“Did not!” Jen’s voice rose from beneath the blanket again. Katie and I giggled. “You two are so annoying when I’m hungover,” Jen added. She sighed and threw back the covers. “Meara, you have some of those magic pills for me?”

“I don’t know how magic they are, but they should help.” I handed her the other cup and pills. She thanked me and tossed them back. I settled back onto the floor where I’d slept, or attempted to sleep. It hadn’t been too uncomfortable.

There was a knock at the door, and then Evan called, “Is everyone decent?”

Katie rolled her eyes before answering, “Yes, come in.”

“Good morning.” Evan carried a tray of muffins and doughnuts. In his other hand, he held a carafe of orange juice.

“A man who brings you breakfast?” Jen looked wistful. “Do you have a twin?”

“Thankfully, no,” Katie said as she rose from the bed and took the orange juice. She did kiss him on the cheek and thank him. He set the tray down at the end of the bed, and then sat on the floor next to me, crossing his long legs at the ankles.

“I wasn’t sure what you would want to eat, but grease is always good with a hangover.”

“And nothing beats sugar,” Katie added before she took a huge bite of a chocolate doughnut.

I
spent the last week of summer with my mom and Grandma Mary. I rarely saw my grandfather. He left early in the morning and returned late at night. I thought the life of a fisherman looked hard, but he seemed to enjoy what he did. He told me that he found solace by the water.

Evan’s classes started already and, apparently, there was no honeymoon period in college. He told me he needed to spend almost every moment of his free time in the lab or the library just to stay afloat. I missed him, but he called every night. Mostly, he told me about his classes. I listened with growing enthusiasm. The more I learned about the ocean, the more fascinated I was. He offered to bring me some books. I told him I preferred to learn from him. “You’re a natural teacher,” I teased.

It was Thursday night, and I was listening to Evan talk about his classes again. I closed my eyes. He had the best voice. It was smooth, with just the right amount of depth. Every time he laughed, my heart skipped.

“Tell me something that would surprise me,” I said.

“About me?” he asked after a moment.

I laughed. “Well, you could do that, too, but I meant about the ocean. Something few people would know.”

By his silence, I presumed he was thinking. “You know the exhibit on sea monsters that we saw at the museum?”

“Yeah?”

“Some of them exist.”

“What? Like mermaids?” I joked.

No,” he said, not rising to the bait. “Like the giant squid. They’ve already found them washed ashore in Asia.”

“Really? That’s amazing.”

“I know. It’s hard to believe that something that large lives on this planet, and only a handful of people can claim to have ever seen one.”

“Makes you wonder what else is out there,” I said.

“Exactly,” he agreed. “It’s getting late, Meara. I better go. We’re on for Saturday night, right?”

“Yes, but are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”

“Not a chance. Good night.”

“Night.”

I hung up the phone and glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. Definitely time to get some sleep. Mom and I were heading into Halifax in the morning. She had her usual appointment at the clinic but afterwards, she wanted to spend some time getting pampered. We were both in need of a haircut—the real fun, though, was splurging on manicures and pedicures. We were staying over at a hotel, returning home Saturday afternoon. I was excited to spend the time with her. I felt a stab of guilt for how much Evan consumed my thoughts. My mom needed me. She was struggling with her health. I made a promise to myself to be there for her going forward.

I more or less confessed as much to her on our drive to Halifax the next day. Mom patted my knee. “Meara, you’re a teenager, and Evan is your first real boyfriend. I’m happy for you.”

“But, Mom…”

“No buts. Why do you think I brought you here? If something happens to me…”

“Mom!”

“Let me finish.” She gave me one of her mom looks. “If something happens, you will be surrounded by people who love you.” She looked at me over the top of her sunglasses. “You are happy, right?”

I nodded and smiled at her. “I am.”

When we got to the clinic, a quick glance around the waiting room told me Ula wasn’t here. I wished she were. Hearing my mom’s contingency plan made me feel weepy. I wanted a friend to talk to, someone who was going through almost the same thing. Flopping down next to Mom, I picked up the latest copy of People magazine. I quickly buried my nose in it, not wanting my mom to see my tears. Too late.

“Meara, are you okay?”

I looked up at her. “You’re asking me? Shouldn’t I ask you that?”

Her hair was falling out. I noticed a few days ago. She kept it pulled back under a wide headband, but it was thin and wispy, not thick and wavy like usual. That was part of the reason for the haircuts. Mom was getting hers cut short.

“I’m fine,” Mom said. “I’m going to beat this. I did it once, and I can do it again.”

She smiled at me. I knew she was trying to be brave. I returned the gesture, wanting to be brave, too. Deep inside, though, I worried. She was getting so thin. This morning when I hugged her, I could feel all the bones in her back.

The nurse called her, and she stood. I jumped up and hugged her, afraid to let go. “I love you, Mom.”

She kissed my cheek. “Love you, too, kiddo. I’ll be back soon.”

As I watched her follow the nurse, my only thought was that I wanted things to be as they always had been between us. Everything was changing. Our relationship, our family, was something different, something new. There were my grandparents, Lydia, Katie, and most importantly, Evan. They had changed my life, in more ways than one. Thinking about all of them, I appreciated all that my mom had done for me, moving us here. I was determined that the rest of the afternoon would be just about Mom and me. With all that she was going through, I was determined to make it a happy memory.

***

“Meara, are you awake?”

I opened my eyes. Mom stood in front of me. My neck hurt, and my foot fell asleep. The last thing I remembered was putting down a magazine after I read every article in it and closing my eyes for a minute to rest. I guess I rested a bit too much. A quick mental calculation told me that I napped in the waiting room for about an hour and a half.

I stretched and yawned before asking, “Are you done?”

“For today,” she said. “Are you ready to get pampered?”

Her grin was infectious, so I smiled back. The circles under her eyes looked darker, but otherwise, she seemed okay.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go.” The clinic waiting room depressed me.

Lydia had recommended the salon, à La Mode. It was small—it only contained four styling stations—but what it lacked in space it made up for in style. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ornately tiled ceiling. The walls were painted in black, white, and hot pink. The effect could have been gaudy. They pulled it off. I’d never been to Paris, yet this is what I imagined it looked like.

Mom’s stylist gave her a pixie cut, which diminished the effects of her treatments. The cut flattered her delicate features. She chose a soft, neutral pink for her fingernails and toenails.

“Mom, you look great!” I said, and I meant it. The pampering was good for her; she looked more relaxed and happy than she had in weeks.

“I love your hairstyle,” Mom said. “It’s so bouncy.”

I didn’t get much length cut off, but I agreed when the hairdresser suggested layers. My hair hung past my shoulders, but the layers provided movement and framed my face. For my fingernails, I chose a color called Vampire Vixen, a glossy, burgundy shade. I picked bright silver for my toes. Mom raised her eyebrows, but didn’t comment. She liked neutral colors, and matching worked for her. I thought it was boring.

“Mom, are you sure you got this?” I asked when we got to the counter. It was more expensive than I thought it would be.

“I’ve got it, Meara. Don’t worry.”

When we left the salon, Mom wanted to shop. We were in a shopping district. Stores lined both sides of the street for blocks.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “You’re not too tired?”

She brushed off my concern. “I’m fine.”

Mom bought a new dress, two sweaters, and a pair of dress pants. The dress was for Thanksgiving, a coppery wrap dress that floated around her calves. It came with a braided belt of copper, silver, and gold. The clasp was a cluster of metal leaves. It was beautiful, and I told her so when she twirled to model it for me.

She insisted that I find a dress for Thanksgiving, too. We were going to go to the Mitchell’s house. They hosted a big dinner every year. The dress I found was much simpler, a deep green sweater dress. It was fitted and fell a little past mid-thigh.

“That’s too short,” Mom protested, but when I agreed to wear tights and boots with it, she bought it for me.

Originally, we planned to go out to dinner but, after shopping, Mom was pale and tired. I drove us to the hotel, checked us in, and carried the bags to our room. Mom followed me up the stairs, took off her coat, and laid down to rest. While she napped, I turned on the TV to channel surf. I ended up watching the last half hour of a spy movie, and the entire romantic comedy that followed. Mom barely stirred on the bed next to me.

When the movie ended, I ordered a pizza. I brought money with me, so I paid for it. Mom stirred and sat up.

“Smells good,” she said. “What did you order?”

“Cheese, sausage, and mushroom. Is that okay?”

“Perfect.” Mom came over and sat next to me. “What do I owe you?”

“I got it.”

“You don’t have to, but thank you.”

The guy who delivered the pizza forgot plates and napkins. So, we just opened the box and dug in. I was on my third piece before I noticed that Mom barely touched hers. She was picking at the mushrooms on top.

“Not hungry?” I asked.

Mom sighed. “I guess not. My stomach’s a little queasy.”

“The medicine?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to get you something else? I could see if they have crackers or bread downstairs.”

Mom shook her head. “That’s okay. I’m not that hungry.” She stood up. “I’ll go downstairs and get some tea. Do you want anything?”

“I can come with you.”

“It’s okay, Meara. I’ll be fine. Do you want a Diet Coke?”

“Yes, please, if they have one.”

When Mom left the room, I put the rest of the pizza on the dresser next to the TV. I didn’t have much of an appetite anymore. I was worried about her. She was so thin, and she barely ate.

I put on my pajamas, which were yoga pants and a T-shirt. We weren’t going out tonight, so I might as well get comfy. As I lay in bed worrying about my mom and waiting for her to return, I wondered, when did our roles reverse?