The Distance Between Us (25 page)

“What? Why?”

“He thought I was rich, Skye. It’s the only reason he liked me.”

She coughs and adjusts her position on the couch. “Um . . . no offense, but he has been here, hasn’t he? Why would he ever think you were rich?”

“Because he knows my grandparents. My mom’s parents. And apparently they are some of the richest people in California.”

“What?”

“They were there tonight at the benefit.”

“Wow. That’s crazy.”

I push myself to sitting. “It is crazy, right? I should be mad about it. At my mom. At Xander.”

“You’re mad at Xander because your grandparents are rich?”

“No. Because that’s the only reason he liked me.”

“Is that what he said?”

“Well, no. But . . .” I run my hands down my face. “But how is either of us ever going to know for sure one way or the other? Even if he claims he would’ve kept dating me either way, we’ll never know because he did know and we can’t prove anything now.”

Skye takes my hand in hers. “Not everything has to be proven. Maybe you should just trust him.”

“And what about my mom? Should I trust her, too? Because she lied to me my whole life. And I’m angry. And I feel guilty for being angry because she’s sick.” I flop back on the couch and stare at the ceiling.

“I understand. I’d be angry, too. But don’t you think they deserve to know she’s sick?”

“Who?”

“Her parents.”

I nod. I know she’s right. “Tomorrow, will you call Xander and get their information for me?”

“You don’t want to talk to him?”

I press my palms to my eyes. “No. And please don’t tell him what’s going on with my mom. The last thing I need is for him to feel sorry for me and come to see me out of guilt.”

“Yes, of course I’ll get their info for you.” She moves to the floor and lays her head next to mine on the couch. “Why don’t you try to sleep. I’ll watch the phone for you.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Do you want Henry to come over? He can play his guitar. Maybe distract you for a while.”

“It’s three thirty in the morning. Don’t you think he’s asleep?”

She looks at her phone, which confirms the time. “Probably not. He’s a night owl.”

“I think night ends at two. He must be an early-morning owl.”

“Why does night end at two?”

“I don’t know. That’s usually as late as I can stay up so it must be when night ends.”

She laughs and fires off a text message. “If he answers he’s awake; if not he’s asleep.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty scientific way of determining whether someone is awake or asleep.”

She playfully taps my head. “I’m glad you haven’t lost your sarcasm.”

Sometime in the early morning I decide Henry is a nice guy. I’m glad Skye was able to see past his pointy nose. I fall asleep to his guitar playing.

When I open my eyes I see Skye across the room on the phone. I go from half asleep to fully aware in one second, springing off the couch and nearly tripping over Henry, who is asleep on the floor. She sees me coming and waves her hand at me, shaking her head. Then she mouths “Xander,” and I immediately turn back around and drop onto the couch. Hopefully she’s getting my grandparents’ info without too much trouble, and then he can completely rid his life of me.

“No,” Skye says. “She’s asleep.”

What time is it anyway? I reach down and twist the watch on Henry’s wrist so I can read it. Ten thirty in the morning. Wow. I got at least five hours of sleep. Then how come it still feels like someone bashed my face in with a bat? And why isn’t Skye off the phone yet? How long does it take to write down a phone number and address?

“Xander, please,” I hear her say. She’s too nice. I would’ve had the number by now. Maybe I should call the hospital while I’m waiting. I look for the phone but then realize Skye’s on it. Why didn’t she use her cell? What if the hospital is trying to call right now? My anger toward Xander is coming back full force.

“No,” Skye says with a sigh that sounds too sweet. I’m about to stand up and take the phone from her when she says, “Thank you,” and writes something on the paper she’s holding. “Yes. Of course, I’ll let her know.” She hangs up the phone.

“Let me know what?”

“That he wanted to talk to you.”

“Good to know. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“I know.” She hands me the paper and then squats beside Henry, running a hand over his cheek. “Henry. Wake up.”

I kick his leg and he jerks awake. “Sometimes you have to be a little more forceful, Skye.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles. I say she should be more forceful, but I wouldn’t change her for the world.

An hour later I’m standing in the hospital lobby waiting for someone to help me. Nobody had called, but after Skye had to leave for work and I called my mom’s parents and filled them in, I couldn’t wait around any longer. Finally the receptionist hangs up the phone and says, “She’s in room three oh five. Take the elevator to the third floor and someone will buzz you into the wing from there, okay?”

“Thanks.”

I’m anxious. I just want to see my mom. If I see her, I know I’ll feel better. Most of my anger has changed to worry, but the anger still lingers there and I want it to leave. The moment I’m in her room and see her face, pale but peaceful, I breathe a sigh of relief. I pull a chair to her bedside and force myself to take her hand. “Hey, Mom,” I whisper. She doesn’t stir.

I don’t know how long I sit there holding her hand (An hour? Two?), but eventually the doctor comes in and gestures for me to step into the hall.

“Sorry I couldn’t let you see her last night, but we had her downstairs and it’s a lot harder to have visitors in those rooms because they’re shared. But we had her moved up here late last night.”

“So what’s going on?”

“We’re still waiting on a few more tests. Has your mom been tired a lot lately?”

“Yes.”

He nods as if he suspected as much. “I have a hunch as to what’s going on, but what we’re going to do is thread a camera into her stomach so we can take a look around. The ultrasound didn’t show me much, and I’d like a closer look.”

“Okay. Is that dangerous?”

“No. It’s a common procedure with minimal risk that will hopefully give us some definitive answers.”

“Does she know?”

“She hasn’t woken up yet.” I must’ve gotten a scared look on my face because he adds, “Which is no cause for alarm. We gave her something to help her sleep that should be wearing off pretty soon. Then we’ll talk with her and you can talk with her, and if she agrees to it we’ll plan on the procedure for first thing in the morning.”

“Can I stay here now?”

“Of course. Like I said, now that she has a private room, you’re welcome to stay. You can even sleep in the room if you want.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

As I’m preparing to reenter the room, I see my grandparents round the corner. Why isn’t my mom awake to deal with this? These people are strangers to me. I rub my arms and then give a small wave.

“Caymen, right?” Mrs. Meyers? Grandma? The woman says.

“Yes. Hi, I’m Caymen.”

She covers her mouth for a moment as she takes a small breath of air. “You look so much like your mother did at your age.” She touches my cheek. “Except you have your father’s eyes. You are so beautiful.”

I shift from one foot to the other.

The man grumbles at her under his breath then holds out his hand to me. “Hi, I’m stranger one and this is stranger two. Are you uncomfortable yet?”

I give a half smile.

“The only thing that is going to make her uncomfortable is your twisted sense of humor, Sean. He’s kidding, honey.”

“I know.” Could a sense of humor be genetic? I point to the door. “She’s not awake yet, but you’re welcome to see her.”

The woman takes several deep breaths followed by several rapid ones.

“Should I get you an oxygen tank, Vivian, or are you going to be okay? I’m sure there’s an extra one lying around.”

She hits him on the chest. “Just let me have a minute. I haven’t seen my daughter in seventeen years, and now I’m going to see her in a hospital bed. I need to let that sink in.”

“The doctor thinks he knows what’s wrong and said she’s going to be . . .” I started to say, “okay,” but then realize he hadn’t said that. Maybe she’s not going to be okay.

“Caymen,” Sean says. “Can you point me in the direction of this doctor? I have some questions for him.”

“Sure. That’s him, actually, talking to the nurse.”

“Thank you. Go on in without me, you two. I’ll see her in a minute.”

He leaves, and Vivian stands at the door, doing her weird breathing. “You should go in by yourself. I’ll wait out here for a while,” I tell her.

She nods but doesn’t move. I hold open the door for her and that sets her in motion. Will my mom be mad if she wakes up to see her mother sitting by her? After the way she crumbled in the doll store when I told her about her parents last night, I have a feeling she’s wanted this for a long time.

My gaze drifts down the hall to where Sean is talking to the doctor. I’m glad to have someone else on my side dealing with the important things. If Sean is as shrewd as Xander and his brothers described then I know he can take care of business.

My grandparents are rich. Weird.

Soon Sean is back by my side. “So how long do you think she needs to work through seventeen years of issues?” he asks, looking at his watch. “Do you think ten minutes was long enough?”

I smile. “My mom’s asleep so that will probably cut some time off.”

He breathes in through his teeth. “No, Vivian is really good at arguing with herself.” He turns to me. “They probably need more time. Have you eaten yet?”

“Don’t you want to see her? You haven’t seen her in seventeen years.”

“I haven’t seen
you
in seventeen years either.”

My eyes sting and he gets blurry, but I’m able to blink back the tears.

“I have some time to make up, don’t I? Will ten minutes be enough?”

“I was thinking five, but we’ll see how you do.”

He smiles. “Ah, so you’re my granddaughter after all.”

Chapter 39

T
he rest of the day is spent watching my mom go from sheer happiness to anger to tears to happiness again. It’s quite a cycle and the doctor doesn’t like it. He kicks us all out by the afternoon even though he had said I could spend the night. My mom doesn’t fight it, though, which makes me realize she probably needs the rest.

“That went well,” Sean says out in the hall.

Vivian shoots him a look. “Caymen, we live a few hours away. Do you think we could stay with you while your mom is recovering?”

“We could get a hotel room if it’s too much trouble,” Sean adds quickly.

“Our place is really small. I don’t know how comfortable you’ll be there. I’m sure you’re used to much bigger.”

Sean throws his hands up. “She thinks we’re spoiled, Viv. We can’t have that.”

“Stop,” Vivian says. “We’ll be fine either way, honey. What would you prefer?”

I’d prefer they stay at a hotel but that sounds so rude and maybe company would be nice. “You can stay with me; that’s fine.”

As we walk to the parking lot Sean clears his throat. “So Xander Spence, huh? He’s a little too pretty for my taste, but he’s from good stock.”

“It’s not about your taste, thank goodness,” Vivian chimes in. “He seems like a really nice boy.”

“We’re not together.”

“Oh. We just assumed because of last night.”

“Things happened. It’s fine.” So this is what having grandparents is about? More people to give you dating advice?

Vivian puts an arm around me. “I didn’t want to say it, but he’s too pretty for my taste, too, honey.”

My automatic defend-Xander-at-all-cost side comes out and I say, “Once you get to know him he’s . . .” I stop myself. I don’t need to defend Xander anymore.

Vivian gives my shoulder a squeeze. “It’s been a long twenty-four hours, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

I can tell they think the apartment is small. Especially when Sean opens the hall closet door thinking it’s going to lead into another section of the house and has to stop with a jerk.

“It’s plenty for the two of us and you know we have the whole doll store downstairs, so when it gets too cramped up here, we have room to spread out.”

I don’t know her well enough, but it seems as though Vivian feels guilty for the way we live. But I meant what I said: sure our house is small, especially when compared to what others have, but growing up, I never felt deprived. I was always happy. It seems only lately I’ve started seeing everything I didn’t have.

Vivian insists on shopping and comes home with more food than we’ll be able to eat in a month. She puts herself to work finding a home for everything she bought. Then the dreaded questions start.

“So you said you’re a senior, right?”

I nod.

“So what are you going to study next year?” Sean asks innocently as he reads the label of a can of corn Vivian had bought. It’s obvious he’s avoiding eye contact because what else would be in a can of corn besides corn? Does he somehow know this is a bad subject for me?

“I’m not—” I start to say, “I’m not sure,” but I can’t. Not because I’m embarrassed to admit it or because I need to help in the store. After discovering all the empty boxes in the back last night, I realize I haven’t been much help at all. My mom has to figure out what the store needs and me hovering is not going to help. I need to move forward. “I’m going to study science. I’m not sure where yet.”