Until the Day I Die(17)

Extra chairs have been pulled up to the table, and five people are seated around it. Five people I know and have loved and trusted until just this very second.

Gigi, Arch, Sabine, Layton, and Shorie.

Each one of them looks at me, face grim, back straight, hands folded.

And now suddenly, the kiss with Ben feels even more horrifying and wrong and shameful than it did a few minutes ago. Because, of course, he knew. He’s a part of this. There are two empty chairs at the table.

I turn and run out of the room.





13

SHORIE

Mom runs out of the kitchen, and pity rises in my throat. She looked so shocked when she saw us. So vulnerable, standing there in her underwear, covering herself with those wadded-up pajamas. I will be okay if I never see my mother look that caught off guard again.

We all sit in silence—Gigi, Arch, Sabine, Layton, and me. Gigi and Arch look like they always do—tan enough to be healthy and dressed like they’re on their way to a cocktail party at the country club. Sabine, with her wavy blonde hair falling out of its messy bun, wears loose-fitting ripped jeans and a yoga top with a crisscross network of straps that reveals her thin, muscled shoulders. Naturally Gigi’s already given her a sniff of dismissal, but she thinks people should wear pearls and gloves to scrub a toilet, and I’m sure Sabine doesn’t give a rip. In fact, she doesn’t seem worried at all. Like always, she seems slightly separate from whatever’s going on, like she’s floating in her own bubble of serenity.

I am not so serene. Confronting Mom is nerve-racking enough, but now I can’t stop thinking about Dad’s missing journal. Where could it be? Why would it even be missing in the first place? I tell myself not to freak out. There’s got to be an explanation. Maybe Mom took it back to his office at Jax, in case she needed to use it there.

Soon enough, Mom’s back in the kitchen, Ben by her side. She’s put the flamingo pajama pants and T-shirt back on and retwisted her scrunchie. But she still looks terrible. Her face is yellowish, and she’s got these puffy purple bags under her eyes. And she looks scared, the way she looked right after Dad died. I don’t like seeing her that way, so I focus on the plaque on the far wall, the one I painted for her birthday a couple of years back.

Put a dent in the universe.

It’s some inspirational bullshit Steve Jobs said once. Or that Pinterest said that he said. Let’s face it, Cookie Monster could’ve said it, for all I know. But the phrase looked cool painted in silver lettering against a starry blue sky. I focus on the silvery swoop of the letter d on the plaque and tell myself to breathe. That we’re going to be done with this soon and Mom will be taken care of and I can find Dad’s March journal.

“What are you doing here?” Mom says. I flick a glance at her but don’t answer. The adults told me to leave the talking to them until they got through the main part.

Ben puts a hand on Mom’s back. “Erin. Let’s sit down. We want to talk to you.”

She pushes away his hand and sits. She looks like she wants to kill us. Then, “Thanks so much for coming,” she announces to the room, like it’s a party or corporate event or something. “Say what you’ve come to say, and then I’m going upstairs to bed. It’s been a long couple of days.”

“We came here to talk to you, Erin,” Arch booms. “And you’re going to do us the courtesy of listening.”

We all stare at him. He’s a quiet man, kind of disconnected, actually. Not exactly what you’d call warm. But, I don’t know. Maybe the situation is just so mega-uncomfortable that he thinks he should get aggressive. That makes me extra nervous, the sound of Arch being loud. The thought of a fight breaking out.

Gigi cuts in. “We know what happened in Auburn last night. We’ve talked to Layton and Shorie, and we know everything.”

Mom looks at me, a question on her face.

“You were drunk,” Gigi says. “And you made a scene at a fraternity house. Shorie was terrified. Here’s her mother, taking a car that doesn’t belong to her, drunkenly barging into a party. Making a fool of herself. Passing out on the ground outside, in her pajamas.”

Mom looks really hard at me. “That’s what I did?” I don’t answer, and our eyes meet. Hers immediately turn red and fill with tears. Then mine do too.

Ben speaks. “We’re worried about your well-being, Erin. We just want to suggest pushing the ‘Pause’ button.”

Mom gives him about the nastiest look I’ve ever seen her give anyone. My heart starts to race uncontrollably.

“At a top-notch rehabilitation facility,” Gigi cuts in. “For people who need help pulling themselves together. Arch heard about it from a friend of his.”

Everybody lets that one pass because we’re all used to my grandmother’s little digs at my mother. The unfortunate truth is my grandmother can be a colossal bitch at times. I just wish she’d throttle it back right now.

“Hidden Sands is a great place to rest,” Sabine says gently. “To regroup.”

“They call it restoration,” Ben says. “For people who are overworked or stressed or have mental health issues. And yes, addictions too.”

“Restoration.” Mom’s voice drips with sarcasm. “How interesting.”

I pipe up. “It’s on an island. There’s a beach. And yoga.”