and “Ow!” My eyes swam with tears but not because of my throbbing elbow. Mom had called me “Amber.” Could I abandon all pretense and return home where I belonged?
“Amber!” Mom repeated, sounding far away, like she’d dropped the phone. “What’s wrong with you lately? Didn’t you hear me calling? Here, it’s Alyce.”
My soaring hopes crashed to earth like dead stars.
Mom hadn’t been talking to me — and I missed her so much. It stung, worse than after the triplets were born and I wanted to stay with Mom in the hospital but was told to go home because the babies needed Mom more than I did. I needed her then and now, too.
I was ready to ditch my assignment and drive right over — until a voice from the phone yanked me back to reality.
“Amb — I mean, Alyce — are you there?” my own voice whispered.
“Yes,” I told my grandmother with a rueful look down at my temporary body.
“Wait a minute while I take this in my room. You probably should call my cell next time.”
“Your cell? But I don’t have a cell phone.”
“You do now. Probably because your parents nearly lost you after the accident and want to keep in touch with you.” She gave me the number. “Okay, I’m in your room now so we can talk freely without Theresa overhearing.”
“You’re supposed to call her Mom,” I said, a bit too sharply as I wiped a tear from my cheek.
“I’ve been trying, but it’s so hard when I look at her and remember changing her diapers. Being my daughter’s daughter is harder than I expected. Oh, and before I forget, you had a call from your beau last night. He’s still in Los Angeles doing some singing contest. Nearly knocked my socks off when he knew I wasn’t you, and since he knew, I told him who you were.”
“Yeah, he called here.” I warmed a little thinking of Eli. I wasn’t able to be with my family, but at least I could talk to Eli. “Thanks for bending the rules and telling him what was going on.”
“My rules, so I can bend them.”
“Just don’t bend too many — you
“Worried I’ll run out and get a tattoo?”
“Depends on the tattoo,” I teased. I’d secretly wanted to get a tattoo but hated needles.
“I’ll get a big pink heart surrounded by flowery words that say ‘Grandmothers Rule Forever.’”
“Grammy!” I cried. “You wouldn’t!”
“Sure about that?” She chuckled, sounding exactly like herself except with my voice. “Honey, you have nothing to worry about. I’m keeping busy here. Theresa was impressed with how I rearranged your bedroom furniture and organized your closet. I couldn’t believe how much junk you crammed in there. I’m throwing out a huge pile of mismatched shoes, old clothes, and trashy magazines.”
“They’re not trashy! Don’t throw them out!” I yelled, so loudly that a man walking his dog turned to stare at the “crazy girl” sitting alone in a car.
“Why keep old magazines?”
“How else am I going to study what’s going on in Hollywood without being an insider? You know how serious I am about my career plans.” I had
“Sure, honey. I’ve always been behind your ambitions one thousand percent. I’ll take excellent care of your collection and I know the perfect shelf for them. Is there anything else I should do for you? I’ve already cleaned your room, washed dishes, dusted, and folded laundry. I couldn’t find any homework.”
“That’s because it’s spring break with no school until Monday.”
“So what would you be doing if you were here?”
“Hanging out.” I shrugged. “You know. Computer games, playing with my sisters, listening to music, talking to friends.”
“That doesn’t sound very productive.”
Her critical tone, one she often used with Mom but seldom with me, made me bristle. “I don’t always have to be doing something. But if you get bored, read my self-help books.”
“I never get bored,” she said firmly. “I’m going to help your mother by creating a daily schedule for the triplets, with meal times and educational activities. Theresa really is in over her head with the little girls. She has no organizational skills at all, but I’m doing my best to help.”
I groaned. Mom hated anyone telling her what to do. She believed in letting children discover themselves through non-structured play.
“Grammy, why don’t you hang out with me? We’re best friends, after all, so no one would think it was unusual. I can pick you up right now.”
“Where are you headed?”
“An old cemetery.”
“Why would you want to do something so morbid?” she asked. “It’s not like any souls linger around; they go on to better things.”
“I’m following Alyce’s plans,” I explained. “I found this list with dates and places she planned to visit. So I’ll go even though I don’t know what I’m supposed to do there.”
“Did you ask your GEM?”
“It only said Alyce was searching for something that’s lost — which isn’t much help. Sure you won’t come with me?”
“Count me not interested. I’ll stay here and help your mother. I’m beginning to think that’s my true purpose in being back here. Your mother and I didn’t always get along and before I died we had — oh, she just called for you, I mean me. Bye!”
Abruptly, Grammy clicked off.
I wondered what Grammy had started to tell me about Mom as I tucked the phone back into Monkey Bag and fished around for the car keys. Movement on the street caught my attention. An elderly couple out for a walk stared at me, probably suspicious of a junky car loitering in their upscale area.
Time to get moving.
Alyce’s car made a grinding sound when I started the engine, and I tensed, hoping her beloved Junkmobile wouldn’t die on me. The car had been dirt cheap and for a good reason. Fortunately the grinding faded to a low roar and the car seemed okay. Glancing in the side mirror at myself and seeing Alyce sitting in her rightful place gave me an odd sense of connection with my best friend, as if we were sitting together.
Was she aware of her body? Did she approve of what I was doing? Or was she too depressed to care? If only I could have helped her before things got critical. I hoped she forgave me for not helping her when she needed me.
Checking Dustin’s map, I calculated where I wanted to go, tracing my finger along the yellow highlighted streets, then merging onto the freeway going north. But after driving a few miles, nothing looked right. Where did my turn-off go? I’d read every sign. There was no way I could have passed it.
Confused, I exited and read the map again. That’s when I noticed that the word “Liberty” was upside down. Oops. As I turned the map around and got back on the freeway heading in the right direction, I made a mental note not to mention this small “detour” to Dustin.
When I exited at Liberty, I was surprised how close the cemetery was to the freeway. I’d driven by here a zillion times without noticing that the fence surrounded old tombstones. The land was rounded, dipping slightly then rolling upward, with oak trees shading the hard dirt and weedy ground. There was no formal parking lot, only a wide graveled area off the road.
After parking the car under an oak tree, I consulted my GEM. Or should I say,
Frustrated, I tossed the tiny book back into Monkey Bag and left the car. There was an elaborate, wrought
