In an Instant(54)

“And Mo can’t keep them?”

“Her dad’s, like, super allergic.”

I see the hint of a smile in my mom’s eyes, a grin of acknowledgment and gratitude for Mo’s genius. My mom might not realize the exact peril Chloe is in, but she knows Chloe is struggling.

“So you’re going to keep them?”

“I have to.”

My mom nods in agreement. “How about I watch them for a spell so you can get some rest?”

Chloe yawns and nods, then carefully transfers the small pack to my mom’s lap. Each wakes and cries out, a symphony of tiny squeaks.

“They’re hungry,” Chloe says.

My mom rolls her eyes. “No duh. I raised four kids. I know when a baby is hungry. Go to sleep. I’ve got it.”

Chloe gives an anemic, concerned grin, then stumbles toward the stairs.

“Chloe,” my mom says, stopping her, “your hair looks good.”

“Thanks,” Chloe answers, half-asleep.

Finn meows louder, and Chloe’s eyebrows furrow with concern.

“You know, I was thinking,” my mom says, “my boss offered me tickets to the Pacific Symphony on Saturday. Maybe we should go?” There’s so much hope in her voice my heart races.

“Do you need me to get the milk?” Chloe says, her voice tight with worry over the kittens’ growing distress.

“No, I’ve got it,” my mom says, placing the kittens in the shoebox, all of them now screaming. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, okay,” Chloe says absently, her focus entirely on my mom’s slow motion rather than on what she is saying, willing my mom to put a little pep in her step.

My mom lights up, a smile on her face as she carries the meowing box to the kitchen. Chloe exhales a sigh of relief and lumbers up the stairs.

I stay with my mom as she nurses each kitten with the eyedropper, soothing and petting the little creatures as tears drip down her cheeks. And I forgive her for tonight, and I hope she forgives herself. Like everyone else, she is stumbling forward, one foot in front of the other, not always in the right direction but staggering on just the same.

I need to remind myself that she doesn’t know what Bob did, that she doesn’t know what my dad is doing with Vance. She only knows that my dad hates her for not protecting Oz and that he has left, and that Bob loves her and is here—a distorted mortal view.

When she is finished feeding the foursome, she returns to the couch, places the kittens on the couch beside her, wraps her arm protectively around them, and closes her eyes. Finn is a feisty one. She may be the smallest, but that doesn’t stop her from insisting on her way. She shoves Brutus (that’s what I’ve named the gray one) out of the way so she can claim the spot nearest to my mom’s heart.





65

“Up,” my dad orders as he knocks Vance’s feet from the couch where he is sprawled out snoring. Vance groans and tries to pull his feet back up, but my dad knocks them away again, this time with enough force to spin Vance off the couch to the floor. “Now.”

“Shit, man. Go away.”

“We’re burning daylight,” my dad says.

Vance squints through his swollen eyes at the pitch-black window.

“You’ve got ten minutes. Breakfast is on the table.” My dad hops away on his crutches. On the coffee table is a granola bar and a glass of tap water—prisoner rations.

Vance curls into a ball and closes his eyes.

Exactly ten minutes later my dad is back and knocking Vance on the soles of his feet with his crutch. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? It’s fucking nighttime.”

“Actually, it’s six in the morning.” My dad raps Vance’s feet harder until Vance has no choice but to sit up or else continue to have his feet battered. “Time to go find Oz.”

Vance cocks his head, concerned my dad has lost his marbles, which I’m wondering myself.

“Body wasn’t found,” my dad continues. “So we’re gonna find it. Now—let’s go.”

Vance shakes his head, the whole cockamamy idea too wild to comprehend. Oz’s body is lost in a tundra that nearly killed both of them only a month ago. There’s no way Vance is volunteering to join a brigade consisting of only the two of them—a battalion short on limbs, fingers, and sanity—in search of my brother’s decomposing corpse.

My dad sighs through his nose. “It’s not a choice, Vance. You see, here’s the deal. You screwed up, and your screwup involved my little girl, and there’s nothing I care more about than my family. So let’s be clear here: I don’t give a shit about you. I’m not doing this because I’m a good guy who cares and wants to save you from yourself. If I had it my way, you’d rot in your room. All I care about is Chloe, and right now, Chloe is under the misguided impression that she still loves you.”

Vance’s face snaps to my dad’s, his eyes large. My dad told Vance that Chloe wanted to see him; he said nothing about Chloe still loving him.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Vance’s, but I’ve always been a huge fan of how much he and Chloe loved each other. My dad wasn’t there, so he doesn’t know it, but after Vance realized the mistake he’d made, he became desperate to save her, staggering on for nearly two days without rest, his purpose propelling him beyond mortal strength. He’s only eighteen. I wish my dad could see that.