If I Was Your Girl(59)

*

The jolt of the bus coming to a stop sent me sitting straight up with a sharp breath. I shuffled down the aisle and descended the stairs. I stood for a moment in the fumes and noise of the Greyhound station, still feeling numb and cold.

“Yoo-hoo!” a loud female voice called, high and musical. It took me a moment to realize it was Mom. I looked in her direction and froze when I saw her sitting next to Virginia, both of them waving, Mom in a zip-up purple Windbreaker and sneakers, and Virginia in an oversize cable-knit sweater that came to her knees. My head swam, watching them together.

“Hi,” I said, putting my bags down and hugging each of them before giving them a confused look. “So, this is weird.”

“Is it?” Mom said, giving Virginia a look of concern.

“I don’t think so,” Virginia said, taking my bag for me as we made our way out to the sidewalk where Mom was parked.

“But you two barely know each other.”

“Don’t we?” Virginia said, smiling mischievously.

“I started going to that support group at your therapist’s office,” Mom explained as we got in her old gray SUV. I tried to picture Mom at the meetings and couldn’t. Mom must have known what I was thinking because she shrugged and said, “I got lonely and I wanted to know more about you, so I decided to check it out.” She squeezed my leg and gave me a look that told me everything was going to be okay. I put my hand over hers and smiled, silently thanking her for not mentioning that I had left town with a black eye and came back with one too.

The house was even cleaner than I remembered, and decked out in decorations for Thanksgiving, which was still a few days away. The living room and kitchen were explosions of orange and brown, with paper turkeys and cornucopias on every surface with any room. I smelled a roast in the oven, and spicy cornbread, and my mouth watered.

“That smells so good,” I said. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”

“You’re my daughter!” Mom said. “And you’re too skinny. I knew your daddy couldn’t even be trusted to feed you.” She walked into the kitchen and announced that dinner was in half an hour.

“I need some fresh air after the bus,” I yelled back.

“I’ll join you,” Virginia said, stepping outside with me.

“You staying for Thanksgiving?” I said as she put on her jacket.

“Wish I could,” she said, fiddling with her buttons as she descended the porch steps. “I’m actually moving down to Savannah next week. Got accepted to SCAD.”

“That’s so cool!” I said. She beamed at me and we walked in silence for a moment. I winced with each step. My ankle still throbbed. “So,” I said eventually, “you wanna know what happened?”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Virginia said. “Give you a little time. You deleted your Tumblr, didn’t you?” I nodded. “So you still don’t know what everybody’s been up to.” I shook my head, glad she was talking. Virginia and Mom were the only two people who could have been around me right now.

“Zeke finally got a job with insurance that covers his top surgery,” she said. “You just missed the party; he’s got the surgery scheduled for next month.”

“That’s great. Is he still dating Rhonda?”

“Moira’s couch-surfing again,” Virginia said suddenly, as if she hadn’t heard me. “She’s stayed clean so far, but she’s a long way from safe. Your mom’s thinking of putting her up in y’all’s guest room.” She put her hands in her pockets and looked up at the sheet of iron-gray clouds overhead. “Your mom’s a really great person, you know.”

“I know,” I said, tilting my head and narrowing my eyes. “Virginia. What happened to Rhonda?”

“Can I tell you later?” Virginia asked, giving me a pleading look. “You’re under enough stress as it is.”

“I’d like to know,” I said.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “She killed herself about a month ago, just after I got back. Didn’t leave a note.”

“No,” I said, covering my mouth and wrapping my other arm around myself. “Jesus. Why?”

“You know why,” Virginia said, shaking her head slowly. “We all know why.” She was silent for a moment while I processed that information. “Her parents were monsters about the whole thing, of course. They lopped all her hair off and buried her in a suit and tie.”

We walked in silence for a while, lost in our thoughts. Rhonda wasn’t the first friend I’d lost; since joining group, I’d been on the other end of that middle-of-the-night phone call too many times. I used to wonder if someone would ever have to make one of those calls for me.

“So what’s next?” Virginia asked after a while, as we headed back toward home.

“I don’t know,” I said, letting the wind whip my hair into my eyes as I put one foot achingly in front of the other. “This time, I really don’t know.”





32

For most of my life Thanksgiving had been a huge, noisy day full of grandparents, great-aunts and -uncles, cousins, half cousins, and nieces, but ever since coming out and living as a girl full-time, Mom and I had been informally exiled from all family functions. That was fine by me; I much preferred the kind of quiet, cozy meal I was sharing with Mom the Thanksgiving after I came back home.