Walk Me Home (15 page)

“Now you know why your mom didn’t want you to go,” he said.

With some effort, she pulled herself stiffly to her feet and threw her arms around him. He sighed. Wrapped her up in warmth. Not just physical warmth, either. Every kind of warmth. Every version of warm that existed anywhere in the world.

A moment later he held her at arm’s length by the shoulders.

“Question number one: Should we be making a stop at a police station? Or a hospital?”

Carly shook her head.

“Nothing happened against your will?”

She gathered herself up to speak. It wasn’t easy.

“He stopped when I told him he had to stop. But then he just…he just…He totally turned on me.”

Teddy sighed and pulled her close again. Carly let the tears flow. She could feel her teeth chattering and couldn’t figure out why she should be colder now, all wrapped up in Teddy. Maybe it was because of the truth. Letting the truth back in.

Teddy held her at arm’s length again.

“Let me tell you something about boys. It’s a subject I happen to know a thing or two about. Because I used to be one. In fact, there are those who’ll tell you I still am. So take it from a pro. A surprising number of boys are assholes. Not all. But a surprising number. Total assholes. Well, no. Not total. Assholes, but not complete assholes. This is the part I’m trying to tell you. They’re actually not trying to be assholes. They’re trying to figure out how to be men. And, let me tell you, it’s not as easy as it looks in the directions. And all the different ways that man thing gets modeled for them…well, that’s definitely not helping. I’m not trying to let them off the hook. I’m not saying it’s not their fault. Exactly. Because if it’s not their fault, then whose fault
would
it be? I’m just saying they’re trying to figure out something tricky. How to be a man is a tricky thing to figure out on your own.”

Carly sniffled. She could barely see Teddy through the snowflakes that had gathered on her eyelashes. Carly had her mother’s thick eyelashes.

“How old were you when you figured out how to be a man?”

“When I get there, I’ll be sure to let you know. Now come on. I don’t have snow tires, or chains, or four-wheel drive. I’m in a low-clearance vehicle here. And it’s really coming down. We need to get out of here while we still can.”

“I don’t like this,” Teddy said. “I don’t like this one bit.”

He maneuvered the car around a series of tight turns, at about five miles per hour. Every now and then the rear tires fishtailed dangerously on the icy road. It made Carly lose her stomach, like a sharp drop on a roller coaster.

“I can’t really touch the gas or the brake. Or it tries to spin out. And it’s steep here. I’m putting it in low.”

Teddy shifted the automatic transmission, and Carly heard and felt the deep thrum of the added engine compression.

“We’ll be down soon,” she said.

Somehow she knew, or at least felt with all her being, that in a minute they’d return to a reasonable altitude. To something like the world she’d always known. Then this nightmare would be over. Unfortunately, that reminded her there might be other nightmares. Waiting.

“What was going on when I called, Teddy?”

“Oh, God,” he said.

Then, for an extended and difficult moment, she thought he might not be willing to say more.

“You know,” he said at last, “I was about to offer to go find this guy and beat the crap out of him for you. If that would help your situation. I don’t mind doing the ninety days or whatever the law would give me. I’d be happy to. Except it wouldn’t help your situation, and we both know it. Word would get around, and then no boy in the whole school—hell, the whole town—would ever come near you again.”

“Why are you changing the subject?”

“I’m not. I’m trying to tell you, Carly. I was just thinking…you know…the part I just said. And then it hit me that you really don’t have a problem at all. I mean, not an ongoing one. Because you’re never going to see that guy again. Because your mom is home packing
you guys up to go. She’s not only moving to another town, she’s talking about another state entirely. I think she said New Mexico.”

Carly waited for some emotional reaction from herself, but all was still and calm inside. Probably because she didn’t believe a word she was hearing.

“New Mexico?”

“I think it might have something to do with that guy.”

“What guy?”

“You can drop the act, Carly. I’ve known for a long time.”

“Wade.”

“Yeah.
That
guy.”

“She’ll change her mind.”

“Not this time.”

“She always changes her mind.”

“Not this time, Carly. This is a whole different ball game.”

“What happened while I was gone?”

The back wheels spun with an alarming whirring sound and took on a life of their own, drifting close to the edge of the road. And the path of the headlights illuminated what lay beyond that edge. Not much. Just a long way down.

“Shit,” Teddy said and took his foot off the gas.

Carly instinctively braced her hands against the dashboard. The car stopped sliding with maybe a foot to spare.

“I better concentrate on what I’m doing,” he said.

They navigated the twisty mountain road in silence for several minutes.

The car didn’t slide again. The snow was letting up some. Thinner hitting the windshield and a thinner buildup on the road in front of the headlights.

They were coming down into the valley.

“There were no parents there,” Carly said.

“Now there’s shocker,” Teddy said calmly. “I can’t imagine how anyone could’ve seen
that
coming.”

“You think my mom knew there wouldn’t be?”

“I think it crossed her mind.”

Silence. Until the road looked familiar again.

“Just one more thing I wanted to say,” Teddy said, startling her. “I think you know better than to believe everything you hear about me. About anybody. Right?”

She waited to see where he was going with that thought. He didn’t say more.

“That’s it?”

“Yup. That’s it. Just don’t believe everything you hear. Just promise me you won’t believe everything that’s said about me. That’s all I’m asking, Carly. Seems like a small price to pay for the ride.”

Teddy pulled up in front of the house and shifted into park. He didn’t pull into the driveway. He didn’t turn off the engine.

“Do me a favor,” he said. “Do us both a favor. Do the whole world a favor. Jump out quick before she sees me. And don’t tell her I brought you home. Tell her one of the guys drove you down, or that everybody came back early.”

Carly just stared at him. None of this seemed willing to click into place.

“You’re not coming in?”

“No,” Teddy said, as much an expelled breath, a rueful laugh, as a word.

“When will I see you?”

“Well, that’s a problem.”

“You’re never coming in the house again?”

“When your mom moves you all out…rent’s paid till the end of the month.”

“I’m not going. I want to stay with you.”

“That’s not an option, Carly. That’s never going to happen. She’d never allow it. No way in hell. Besides, I can barely look after myself right now.”

Carly felt the tears pressing again. She pushed back. Hard.

“So I just never see you again?”

“When you get settled, call me on my cell and let me know where you are. That way I can let you know when I find a place to live. But don’t let her find out we’re in touch, or there’ll be hell to pay. Now hop out. Quick, Carly. There’s going to be trouble if she looks out that window.”

“It couldn’t possibly be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

“Kid,” he said. He had never called her kid before. “You have no friggin’ idea how bad it is. Go quick. And don’t believe everything you hear.”

Carly stepped out onto the curb and watched Teddy’s Firebird speed away. Part of her thought she might never see him again. Another part of her firmly believed this would all blow over by tomorrow. Lots of stuff blew over in her mom’s house. Bad stuff. All the time. This could blow over, too.

Whatever “this” was.

When she got inside, Wade was there. In the kitchen with her mom. They were wrapping dishes together. Her mom was up on a step stool, taking Grandma’s good dishes down and wrapping them in sheets of newspaper, then handing them down to Wade, who fit them into cardboard cartons.

Only then did Carly realize how unreal this had all seemed. Until just this moment. And how real it all was. How real it had been all along.

She stood in the kitchen entryway, her shoulder leaning on the doorframe.

They both looked up.

“What’s
he
doing here?” Carly asked.

Wade’s stare darkened.

“We’re leaving,” Carly’s mom said.

“I can see that. But why?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Tell me now.”

“OK, fine,” her mom said. Like it was Carly she was mad at. Like Carly had caused all this trouble. Like her mom had forgotten that Carly hadn’t been here a minute ago, wasn’t supposed to be here now. “You want to know? You want to talk about it right now? Fine. We’ll talk about it right now. We’re leaving because Teddy tried to rape Jen.”

Carly felt her head rock back a little. Teddy’s voice echoed in her head.
Don’t believe everything you hear about me.
So all her mom had to do was tell this vicious lie out loud. Then Teddy was out and Wade was in. And nobody would think any the worse of her mom for it. She’d be the heroine. The momma bear. Carly wondered why she hadn’t seen something like this coming.

“You’re unbelievable,” Carly said.

“I don’t know quite what that means coming from you right now, but go pack.”

“I’m not going.”

“Oh, hell yeah, you are. Now go pack up your stuff.”

Her mom stomped down off the step stool and grabbed up a box of dishes. Wade had barely finished taping up the top. The end of the tape hadn’t even been torn off the roll when she whisked the box away. She paused briefly to let him finish, then carried the box to the garage.

Wade stared into Carly’s eyes in a way that made her uneasy. She looked away.

“If I’d talked to my mother like that, I’d have been sorry.”

“Like I care,” she said, feeling brave.

“If you were my kid, I’d teach you some respect.”

“I’m not, though.”

Carly peeled away from the doorframe and marched upstairs.

Halfway up, it hit her what she should have said. You can’t teach respect. The person who wants it has to earn it. Those would have been the right words. But by then it was too late.

She marched into Jen’s bedroom. Jen was packing the clothes and shoes from her closet into cardboard cartons.

“Don’t,” Carly said.

“What are you doing back already?”

“Don’t pack.”

“I have to pack. We’re moving.”

“I’m not moving.”

“You have to, Carly. We can’t move without you.”

Jen’s eyes looked too wide. Like a spooked animal. Carly tried to remember if she had ever seen Jen spooked before. Nothing came to mind.

Carly flopped down on Jen’s bed.

“Can you believe this? How much does this suck?”

“I know,” Jen said. She stopped packing and sat on the edge of the bed. Near Carly’s hip. “All my friends are here.”

“She’s unbelievable. I can’t believe she did this. Wade’s going with us, isn’t he? She didn’t need to do this. She should have just told the truth. If she wanted to be with Wade, she should have said so. I’d hate her for it, of course. But not like this. Nothing could’ve been worse than this. She wants Teddy to be the villain, not her. Teddy could never be a villain. He’s too damn sweet. Nobody’s ever going to believe this, so I don’t know why she even tried.”

Jen opened her mouth to speak.

At that moment, their mom appeared in the doorway.

“Don’t talk. Pack.”

“I’m not going,” Carly said.

“Here’s how it’s going to be, Carly. You
are
going. That’s a legal fact. I can enforce that. The only question is whether you’re going with or without your stuff. When Jen and Wade and I get all packed up and ready to go, whatever of your stuff isn’t packed stays here. You don’t own it anymore. Now is that some kind of motivation?”

Carly sat up and looked straight into her mother’s eyes. Carly was set, planted as firmly as she had ever been in her life. But the look in her mom’s eyes matched all that. And raised it. Carly should have known. She could never out-angry her mom. Nobody could.

The moment stretched out.

“You’re a liar,” Carly said. “And I hate you for it. And I’ll never believe another word you say. And I’ll never forgive you for this. As long as we both live, I’ll never…ever…forgive you.”

TULARE

December 21

It wasn’t until late the following day that Carly’s mother looked at her as though she were some kind of alien life-form and said, “Aren’t you supposed to still be at the lake?”

Carly told her they’d all come down early so they wouldn’t get snowed in for Christmas.

It was the first time she’d spoken to her mother since the previous night.

It was the last time she spoke to her mother in months.