The Row(62)

“I know who you are, too.” His voice is light, but I can tell that he’s uncomfortable.

“Why are you hanging around my daughter?” Mama’s bluntness makes me suck in a quiet breath of surprise. She isn’t messing around. Southern hospitality is her motto, and she never talks to people this way.

Jordan doesn’t answer her for so long that I wonder if he felt offended and has left. I take two steps toward the doorway and then freeze up again when I hear him say words that make me feel light-headed.

“Because she’s both amazing and stubborn in all the best ways.” He doesn’t sound nervous anymore, more like he’s searching really carefully for the right answer. “Because I want to help.”

Silently, I lean my back against the wall. My heart burns and flutters and I can’t help but smile.

When Mama responds, her voice is significantly kinder, but her words still make me cold. “You just make sure you’re prepared to deal with the fallout before you drag her down with you.”

He repeats, “Fallout?” like a question, but I get the distinct impression that he knows exactly what she means.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I know you’re smarter than that,” Mama says, but then her voice softens so much I have to inch my way to the end of the hall to hear her. “Riley better not get hurt when your father finds out you’ve been spending time with her.”

My mind latches onto those words and I don’t move. It isn’t like I haven’t had similar thoughts myself about Jordan’s dad being furious if he finds out Jordan’s been hanging around me. But somehow hearing someone else say the same thing makes it more real—more terrifying.

Mama doesn’t give me any extra time to think about it.

“Riley, did you get a cool cloth? My head is starting to pound,” she hollers, and I hear footsteps too heavy to be hers walking toward the hallway. Panicking, I quietly move back a few feet and then come jogging just as Jordan steps around the corner.

“Got it.” I hold the cloth up, fighting not to let guilt or confusion about what I’d overheard show in my expression. The deep frown that creases his face is erased the moment he sees me. I know then that he won’t realize I’ve been secretly eavesdropping, not when it seems like he’s so busy hiding his own fears.

The thought makes me penetratingly sad in a way that I can’t shake.

“I’ll just wait out here,” Jordan says, pointing over his shoulder toward the living room.

I move in to where Mama sits up in bed, closing the door behind me. She grabs a couple of ibuprofen pills from her nightstand, and she reaches her hands out for the washcloth and the water bottle, muttering, “I’m sorry, honey.”

I feel terrible. I want to kick myself for calling her weak. I had no idea she was hiding secrets like these. “You don’t need to be sorry, Mama. The only thing you should apologize for is not telling me this was all going on so I could help you.”

She still won’t meet my eyes.

I wrap my arms around her. “I’m so sorry for calling you weak. I was wrong. But I can’t help you, or even understand, if you don’t tell me.”

Mama hugs me back and gives me a teary smile. “I know. When I look at you, I still see the tiny girl whose feet swing a foot off the floor when she sits on the courtroom benches. I know you aren’t little anymore, but parents aren’t supposed to accept that defeat easily. I don’t want to put any more on you than you’ve already had to deal with. You—you were right that you’ve had too much and I don’t want to give you anything extra to carry.”

“I’m fine, Mama.” I smooth down one side of her blond hair. Then I decide that saying these things isn’t really helping either of us. “Well, okay—no, I’m not fine. And neither are you. And neither is Daddy. But for now, we’re all doing the best we can, and that’s okay. Right?”

Mama laughs. “You sound like a therapist. Maybe we should be calling today a breakthrough.”

I groan and then smirk. “Don’t tell anyone about this, then. I prefer for most people to think of me as a dangerous misfit. If people think I’m unpredictable then their expectations are considerably lower.”

“Fair enough.” Mama kisses my cheek, but I can see her eyes starting to droop. She slides down against her pillow, and I don’t even have enough time to walk slowly to the door and close it before she is slipping into oblivion.

As I head back into the living room, I look out the front window.

“Everything okay?” Jordan whispers, coming up to me.

“Yeah. Thank you.” I don’t turn around, but he’s so close I can smell his scent and feel the warmth coming off his body. And we just stand in the silence together.

I’m not sure why Jordan isn’t talking. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid to wake Mama. But in her state, we could probably throw a concert in here and she wouldn’t wake up. Or maybe he’s staying quiet for some other reason.

I don’t really care why, I’m just so happy he’s here.

After everything I just learned, my mind still spins, and I like the comfort of this silence.

I move and Jordan follows me toward the front door. I pick up the bag we used to carry our notebooks back from the library. Pulling them out, I walk into the kitchen and place them on the table. Then we just stand, looking at each other. I’m exhausted. I feel like everything from the last few weeks has landed squarely on my head and it’s just too heavy for me to stand up straight beneath it all anymore.