only $9,867. In the space of just a few seconds, $9,867 had started to feel like “only.”
The handle of her purse was sticking up beside the recliner. Mom always kept it in the same spot so it wouldn’t get swallowed up in the tide of garbage. The panic was rising as I reached into it and pulled out her wallet. It was the same worn brown leather wallet she’d carried since I could remember, bulging at the sides, with scraps of paper receipts sticking out the top. Carefully, I opened the snap and looked inside. The slots were filled with credit cards—some were grocery cards or insurance cards, and one was a library card, but most of them were credit cards. As I pulled them out, I examined the expiration dates—it would be just like Mom to carry around a lifetime’s worth of expired credit cards—but all of these were current.
There were two cards with airplanes on the front, one with a panda bear, a Macy’s, a Target, and one from a store I’d never even heard of. When her wallet was empty, there were twelve credit cards sitting in front of me. All of a sudden, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
The mountains of stuff seemed to vibrate as I shifted my glance from one pile to the next. I thought about the ice-skating lessons I wasn’t allowed to take because they were too expensive, and the week at the lake that turned into three days at a Motel 6 in Modesto because it was a lot cheaper. The scholarships and grants I was chasing because there wasn’t enough money to go to a good university without a lot of help. And this is where it had all ended up. Not in trips to the beach, or a remodeled kitchen. It had ended in late-night home-shopping bargains on stuff we’d never use and gifts for people she would never give. That pile of plastic had fueled this pile of worthless garbage. Instead of seeing just piles of clothes and junk, I realized for the first time how much money must have been involved in amassing this much stuff. How much had she spent on things, only to have them sit in a pile for months and years? Whenever I bought a new book, Mom would remind me that there was a library in town, and libraries were free. Thank God I had Dad’s money, because Mom’s was only for stuff that was important to her. Apparently, that included useless countertop mixers, but did not include me.
My stomach was in knots as I thought of having to pay it all back. What if being dead meant that you weren’t off the hook? It would take years—decades, probably—to pay back all the money she owed. There was no way I could afford to go to a good school now. If I was lucky, I might have time for junior college between jobs, if I had to help pay all that money back. Josh and Kaylie would go off to freshman year at UC Berkeley or Stanford and I’d be . . . where exactly? Where would I be?
I grabbed each stack of credit card bills and flung them across the room, as if getting rid of the evidence would make the problem go away. My jaw clenched as I reached for an armload of newspapers and threw them into the middle of the room, only to have them settle on the piles like a small dusting of snow on a glacier. A scream rose from the back of my throat as I lunged toward a stack of books and newspapers next to her chair and brought them crashing down with a vibration so strong the walls shook. I grabbed anything I could reach, enjoying the thud as whatever it was hit the wall and bounced back into the room. The sharp sound of the vase breaking against the brick fireplace was still ringing in my ears when I noticed a small trickle of blood from a tiny gash in the side of my hand. Staring at the smear of red that ran from the cut, I wiped it with my other hand until it started to sting. The pain had a weird calming effect and I doubled over, breathing heavily like I’d been sprinting.
I couldn’t spend another second in that house. I had to get out if I was going to keep hold of my sanity and salvage anything. Stacks of books and newspapers fell to the floor as I raced down the pathways, focusing only on reaching the front door so I could breathe again.
The cold air hit me as I yanked the open door, and I drank it in as I moved toward the darkness. My breath was making little puffs of fog but I didn’t feel cold. Here, I was free from the pathways and the stale decay of the house. Out here, there was no ceiling to trap the mess, only the stars that promised the vastness of space with nothing between me and them but cold, clean air.
I reached the corner and stood under the streetlight watching the traffic signals change from green to yellow to red and back again like they were part of a universal rhythm. I had no plan, only vague thoughts that passed through my head like vapor, only to disappear as quickly as they had formed.
Without realizing I was even moving, I found myself standing in front of Kaylie’s house. I stared at the front door and tried to decide if knocking was what I really wanted to do. The minivan was in the driveway, and I could see a light on in her window upstairs.
“Lucy!” she squealed when she answered the door. “Why didn’t you call? We totally would have come picked you up.”
“It’s okay,” I said, amazed that my lips were moving in a coherent manner. “I needed the walk.”
“Is your mom better?”
“About the same,” I whispered. I felt like I was watching everything happen from very far away. It was safer than being inside my body and feeling empty.
“Well, I’m glad you changed your mind,” she said. “I was just getting ready to go—Vanessa’s sister is picking me up on the way.” She turned her head and looked at me more closely. “You okay? You look like hell.”
I ran my hand over my hair and could feel it sticking up in more than a few places. “Oh, yeah,” I said. “I just didn’t have a chance to—”
“Not to worry. You’ve come to the right place.” I climbed the stairs to her room a few steps behind her. “I got this killer new straightener that will work magic on your hair. That and a few swipes of Plum Sable eye shadow should have you back on track.”
We passed the bathroom, and I realized that what I really wanted was to stand still somewhere and let stinging droplets of hot water wash this entire day down the drain. “Actually, Kaylie, could I, uh, take a shower maybe?”
“Okay,” she said, apparently not thinking it was a weird request. “But make it quick.”
My brain whirred on empty as I stood under the pounding water, feeling it flow over my shoulders and down my back. For the first few minutes I just stood there soaking, inhaling the steam and the heat, breathing it deep into my lungs. I grabbed the washcloth Kaylie had given me, lathered with sharp, clean-smelling citrus soap, and scrubbed until my skin was raw. Shampoo was dripping down my face when the door to the bathroom opened.
“Lucy?” Kaylie said as she tiptoed in. I had tucked Teddy B. into my jacket, which was folded on the floor, and I prayed she wouldn’t see him. I’d forgotten I even had him on me, but now that he was here, it seemed important that he stay secret. “I brought you those jeans that are too long for me and that cute black-and-white-striped shirt that made me think of you when I bought it. No offense, but if we’re going to the party, you need something else to wear.”
I rinsed and stuck my head out of the curtain. “Thanks,” I said. All I wanted was to curl up in a ball in the corner of the room and sleep for about a hundred years.
