Don’t Let Me Go(53)

“A lot changed while you were gone.”

Grace’s mom finally took the bait and yelled at her. “I wasn’t gone that long! Stop saying I was! I’m sick of it!”

Grace’s feet stopped moving. She stood with her feet apart on the linoleum, as though she wanted to be sure nothing could knock her over. She looked right into her mom’s eyes, but her mom looked away.

“Look at me, Mom.”

Her mom glanced, quickly, then looked back down at the rug again and took another puff of the cigarette.

“Well, it’s all true,” Grace said, “whether you look at it or not. I tap dance, and I speak Spanish, and I have a nice new haircut that would’ve cost a lot of money if you’d had to pay for it…” Grace could hear her voice rising, but didn’t think she could stop that if she tried, and besides, she had no reason to try. “…and I have nice fingernails and a foot manicure, and I’m wearing a dress that was made just especially for me, and I have a cat!”

The part about the cat helped her finish off with a particularly convincing shriek. Because they’d been debating the issue of whether or not Grace had a cat ever since her mom had stolen her.

Grace wondered if Billy could hear her through her ceiling (his floor), and if it made him smile a little to hear her be brave and stand up to her mom, or if it worried him to hear any kind of fighting. She didn’t want to worry anybody, especially not Billy.

“And one of our neighbors shot himself and you don’t even know it!” she screamed. “And that’s how long you’ve been gone!”

Grace’s mom got quieter, instead of yelling back. She did that sometimes, but only when she was really mad.

“You do not have a cat,” she said. “And I’m having trouble understanding why you’re yelling as loud as you can after I just told you I have a headache.”

“I do have a cat. He’s a calico, and his name is Mr. Lafferty the Cat.”

“Maybe the cat exists,” her mom said, still in that scary-quiet angry voice. “I’m not saying there is no cat. I’m saying he can’t be your cat, because you can’t get a cat without my permission.”

“Well, you weren’t there to give permission, and it’s too late! And I got him, and he’s mine, and I’m going to go see him right now, and you can’t stop me!”

And, with that, Grace marched over to the door.

Her mom got there first, though, and put on the safety chain, which was too high for Grace to reach.

Grace grabbed a chair and hauled it over to the door, but Grace’s mom just grabbed the chair back and started to haul it away from the door again, but by that time Grace had already started to climb up on it. It just all happened so fast.

Grace hit the floor with her right hip and shoulder, and it hurt, especially the part on her hip.

“Ow!” she said.

“Well, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t climb up on a chair while I’m moving it.”

“Well, you shouldn’t move a chair while I’m climbing up on it,” Grace said, still down on the rug.

“Why are you being so awful, Grace? You’re not usually like this.”

“Because I want to see my friends, and I want to see my cat, and you won’t let me.”

“They tried to take you away from me.”

“No, they didn’t! They just took care of me! It was all my idea! I didn’t want to be around you when you were loaded! I hate being around you when you’re loaded!”

In that quick and very dark moment, Grace’s mom stood over her, and just for a split second Grace thought her mom was about to haul her off and smack her. Which she had almost never done before. Then again, they’d never had a fight this bad. At least, not out loud. But it was almost as though Grace could see the urge move through her mom. Fortunately, it just kept going. A minute later Grace’s mom was talking in her quiet voice again.

“You’re giving me a headache. I have to go take some aspirin. Don’t you dare go anywhere while I do.”

And she walked away, through her bedroom and into the bathroom.

Grace looked at the door. She rose to her feet, but her hip still hurt when she put her weight down on that side. She thought briefly about pulling the chair back to the door again and unlocking the safety chain, but she figured her mom would catch her fast enough that it wouldn’t do a bit of good anyway.

So she just hobbled into the kitchen and went back to dancing. It hurt her hip to dance, but not enough to stop her. Nothing would have been enough to stop her. Instead she just winced a little on every step.

Her mom came back in a few seconds later.

“Did you take your aspirins?” she asked.

“Yeah,” her mom said. “I did.”

“You sure that’s all you took?” Grace asked, still dancing.

“Don’t push your luck with me, kiddo.”

“Do you even still have all those drugs in the house? Because, if you do, you’ll probably take them. Sooner or later.”

“New subject,” her mom said, without much of any kind of energy at all.

“That’s not just my opinion. Yolanda always says that to you.”

“More dancing,” her mom said. “Less talking.”

So for the next twenty minutes or so, Grace danced, and watched her mom to see what she had really taken. It shouldn’t take long to find out, she figured, because if she’d only taken aspirin, she’d stay awake. No real need to argue, she figured, when you can just wait and watch.