Every Other Weekend(104)

“Did you hear anything I said?”

I hadn’t heard much of anything since leaving our house twenty minutes ago. The sun was setting and Jeremy and I were driving his car to Dad’s since Mom had finally gotten hers fixed and no longer needed to drop us off.

“I said if you’re already going to be this miserable with me and Dad this weekend, then take a few hours and see your girl.”

“I told you I was in this. I promised.” And Jolene was acting like she couldn’t care less if we saw each other at all. Even her texts felt distant lately.

“‘In it’ doesn’t mean twenty-four hours a day all weekend. Show up when we eat and don’t be gone from the second you wake up to the second you go to bed. It’s called balance, moron.”

I didn’t feel like laughing—and I’d never laughed at an insult from Jeremy before—but one corner of my mouth lifted. I was still getting used to talking with him more. Sometimes it took days before I could force myself to tell him important things, but I still did. He’d been both pumped and pissed when I told him about Daniel coming over and talking with Mom. He was mad because he hadn’t gotten to see Daniel, but more than that, he saw the same potential in Mom’s last words that I had.

That afternoon when we were leaving for Dad’s, she’d even asked if we were going to go to the grief group with him again that weekend—they had a Friday night meeting as well as a Wednesday one—and when we nodded, she’d looked a little wide-eyed and nervous but said we could tell her about it if we wanted when we got home. It was a start.

It was so much of a start that I decided to take Jeremy’s advice and I gave him my bag when we reached our floor and went straight to Jolene’s door, ignoring the whipped sound effects he made as he let himself into Dad’s apartment.

I definitely caught her off guard. As she opened the door, she was talking.

“If you can’t remember something as simple as taking your keys with you when you go to the store, then—oh. Hi. I thought you were Shelly.”

Her hair looked braided painfully tight, and she was slipping into her coat, but that first sight of me caused her whole face to light up.

“Hey,” I said, wanting to hug her, so I did. She smelled like cigarettes, and it made me laugh. “Smoking again?”

She shrugged and moved past me into the hall. “It keeps Shelly away, and that’s easier said than done these days.”

“She still opening your mail?”

Jolene shook her head. “No, she’s—I don’t even know. She’s trying to talk to me. Like, all the time.”

“Talk to you how?”

“Like an actual human being. It’s creeping me out.”

It looked like it was more than creeping her out. She was visibly unsettled and unsure, two things she almost never was.

“Maybe she’s trying to be a decent person again. I mean, you said she used to be your friend.”

Jolene’s spine snapped straight. “No, she pretended to be my friend in order to get close to my dad, so whatever she wants this time, she’s not going to get it.” Then she looked at me. “What are you doing here anyway?” She didn’t sound mean or annoyed, just curious, and a little like she was shoring herself up for another drive-by visit.

“Things are maybe going better with my family.”

“Oh?” she said, her hand reaching to grab her braid. And there was no hiding how badly she didn’t want that to be true, though she tried. “Good. I mean, that’s good.”

We leaned against the wall between our apartments as I updated her on things with my mom. When her eyes went a little shiny, I couldn’t tell if that was for me or her. I thought a little of both.

She had her braid coiled around her wrist. “That’s what you’ve been wanting from her, isn’t it? For her to try?”

“It is.” It felt big, maybe bigger than I’d let on, because I didn’t want to make Jolene think we might lose our weekends any sooner than we already would. Also, because my mom admitting out loud that she wanted to try was something Jolene had little hope of her own mother doing.

“Anyway, I don’t have to spend the whole weekend with my dad this time. We’re going to grief group tonight but not until eight. And I really miss you. Like, it’s excessively pathetic how much. Ask Jeremy.”

She bit back a smile. “More than five minutes of Adam time. You’re going to spoil me.”

I took a step toward her. “Yes, ma’am.”

She laughed, and I would have kissed her except the elevator was finally being fixed and there were repair guys all over the halls and stairway. I would have taken her outside, but winter had sunk its claws into us and was still howling as it held off spring for another week. Watching each other’s lips turn blue most definitely would have been a mood killer.

I also wasn’t about to bring her to my apartment, where Jeremy would probably be running lines with Erica via video chat and Dad would try to make small chat.

“Do you want to maybe go to your apartment?” I asked.

“Shelly went to the grocery store, but she could be back any minute.”

“Right.” We’d moved closer to the stairwell, and I had to back up against the wall to let a maintenance guy past.

She chewed her lip. “I might have an idea.” She didn’t look thrilled by it though.