The Mother's Promise(37)

Kate paused. After what Alice had explained to her about Zoe, she got the sense that the fewer people who were at home, the better. But David had misinterpreted her pause.

“I know you’re still down about this whole baby thing,” he said. “I want to make it up to you.”

There was something about the way he said it—this whole baby thing—that irritated her. Kate wanted to tell him that actually the only thing he could do to make it up to her was give her a baby. Instead she choked it back, thanked him again, and hung up the phone.





26

In second-period English, Zoe was trying to imagine a world without her mother. She’d imagined it so many times in her strange little movie-reel fantasies that it should have been easy. But now that it was real, everything was blurry. And the questions were never-ending. Would she stay in her apartment or would she have to move? Would she keep going to school or would she need to go out and get a job? Probably a job if she wanted to stay in her apartment. But what kind of job could she even get? She wouldn’t survive two weeks even if she wanted to, which she wasn’t sure she did. What would be the point of surviving without her mother?

This morning, as Judy drove her to school, she’d tried to tell herself that everything was fine, everything was over. But who was she kidding? Her mom had had surgery yesterday! Suddenly a horrible thought occurred to her. What if there were complications? She’d been thinking that it was the beginning of the end, but what if this was the end of the end? What if she was called out of class to be told her mother had passed away following a postsurgery complication? What if she wasn’t even able to say good-bye?

“Okay, class, we are starting a new unit,” Mrs. Patterson said. “Public speaking. So I’ve decided we’re going to have a debate!”

There was a collective groan.

“Oh, why so glum? I happen to know a lot of you are very good at arguing. Anyway, you’ll have a couple of weeks to prepare. I’m going to divide the class into two groups.” She stretched her arms out in front of her. “This side is ‘for’”—she gestured to Zoe’s side of the room—“and this side is ‘against.’ Every person will have a speaking role, but some are bigger than others. If you have a large speaking role, you’ll have less prep to do and vice versa. There will be the six speakers—three on each side. There’ll be an adjudicator, who will help me decide the winners and then explain why they have won. There’ll be a person to announce the debate. And each speaker will have a partner who will introduce them, and who will help prepare the speech and write rebuttals during the debate. Anyone who is left can stand up afterward and talk about who was their favorite speaker and why. Any questions?”

Zoe felt an overwhelming urge to vomit.

“So, who’d like to volunteer for the adjudicator role?”

A few hands shot up. Mrs. Patterson selected one of them.

“Good,” she said, writing the name in a notebook. “Now, how about first speaker for the affirmative?”

Zoe wasn’t sure what happened then. A moment of insanity? Whatever it was, it came to her all at once—like the desire to scream in an empty room or dive-bomb into the unbroken water of a pool. When she was a kid, she’d had similar compulsions. She’d be playing happily when all of a sudden she’d feel compelled to reach out and touch the wall or the edge of the fringed carpet. She’d tell herself that if she didn’t touch the wall or carpet, the world would end right that second.

But this time, it was more than just a compulsion. It was about her mother. She had cancer. Not only that, she’d lied to Zoe about having cancer. Suddenly Zoe understood why. She’d lied because she didn’t think Zoe could handle it. Which meant Zoe needed to become the kind of person that didn’t need to be lied to. A strong person. The kind of person who could … participate in a debate.

She put her hand up.

“Zoe?” Mrs. Patterson said. “You’d like to be a speaker?”

Mrs. Patterson couldn’t contain her surprise. Zoe felt her cheeks bloom red. She could feel people’s eyes, but she focused forward.

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s great. Good for you.”

Mrs. Patterson was being kind, but Zoe wanted her to move on to the next person. Stop smiling. Next.

Mrs. Patterson scribbled Zoe’s name on her notepad. “And who’d like to be Zoe’s partner? Hands up.”

The absence of hands was practically a presence. A few chair legs squeaked. Cameron whispered something to Danielle, who giggled. Emily, two rows ahead, had already pushed her table up next to Lucy Barker’s—clearly they were partners. Jessie Lee and Billy Dyer had their heads down, as Zoe would have if not for her momentary aberration.

“Come on, class. Who wants to be partners with Zoe?”

Zoe was certain that eventually the humiliation would form a knife and stick her through the heart. And still, the silence stretched on.

Finally, there was a sigh. “I will.”

The voice was distinct.

“Harry,” Mrs. Patterson said. “Good. You are partners with Zoe.”

Mrs. Patterson wrote it in her notebook and moved on to the next role.

For the next fifteen minutes, Zoe kept her head forward, too afraid of making eye contact with anyone, especially Harry. She didn’t know what to be more afraid of—the fact that she’d just volunteered to be in a debate, or the fact that Harry had volunteered to be her partner. Why would Harry—Harry—volunteer to be her partner?