True Places(89)

She arrived where she had first entered the clearing and stood for a moment, listening for Iris’s footsteps, but hearing only the scratching of a bird or a squirrel in the leaf litter. She walked on and there, just ahead, was a patch of blue a dozen feet wide, a carpet of diminutive irises, no more than six inches tall, but with large blooms. Suzanne knelt before them. The petals had white and yellow markings outlined with darker blue. The color was really as much purple as blue, the color of Iris’s eyes. Suzanne swallowed against the lump in her throat. Iris’s mother must have treasured this flower to have named her daughter after it. And this patch, so close to the cabin, would have been sacred. Suzanne pictured Iris as a toddler, her chubby little fingers touching the delicate petals as her mother told her the story of her name. Suzanne bent forward, curving her body around the ache that swelled inside her as she remembered Brynn as a small child, her dimpled fists, the sweet smell of her skin, her perfect pink mouth, her open, honest, trusting gaze. Her daughter was lost to her now, and the pain of it was so great Suzanne did not know if she would make the same choices again. She hadn’t known how much of herself she had subverted for the sake of her children, her marriage, how much of herself she had left underground. She had thought of herself as in control, protected, too busy to be vulnerable, but in truth she had been buried up to her neck.

She had given herself away. If she wanted herself back, there had to be pieces of her, sacred and proprietary, that no one else could ever have.





CHAPTER 39

Reid walked home from school practically dragging his feet. He had hoped to go to Alex’s, but his friend had a therapy appointment, and Reid couldn’t exactly tag along to that. Since his mother had left with Iris, Reid had avoided being home. He didn’t want to see his father, afraid of exploding and telling him exactly what he thought. Not that his father didn’t get the picture. But so far they’d dodged a big confrontation. The only thing they talked about was whether his mom had called or texted. She had sent Reid exactly one text. She had bailed.

He busied himself with speculation about what his mom could possibly be doing. Watching movies in a hotel room with Iris didn’t sound right. Maybe she was looking for a new place to live. He hadn’t wanted to ask his dad about that. Reid pulled out his phone and texted his mom.

REID: I miss you.

He frowned and hit delete.

REID: When are you coming back?

That was incredibly whiny, or aggressive, depending. He deleted it.

REID: Hope you’re okay.

He searched the emojis for one that expressed how it felt to have your mother leave. He considered the sad face. He was definitely sad. He was also angry. And worried. And absolutely sick of parents, adults in general. That was a lot of emojis for one text. He sighed, hit send, and put his phone in his pocket.

Reid found himself on his street, nearly home. Eventually a tortoise gets where it’s going; wasn’t there a Buddhist story about that? Maybe he’d skip homework tonight (rebel!), do a long meditation session, and read something escapist, like A Game of Thrones. Talk about messed-up families.

Brynn had been suspended and had no choice but to stay home, so Reid wasn’t surprised to find the door unlocked. He expected to find her watching TV, but the house was quiet. She was probably sulking in her room. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since the morning after the party. What was there to say?

He left his backpack at the bottom of the stairs and headed for the kitchen, taking the living room route in case his dad had left the paper there. Instead of the paper, he found his dad, sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, rocking back and forth. He couldn’t read his father’s face.

“Hey, Reid.” His dad didn’t look up, just rubbed his hands together like he had something sticky on his palms.

“Hey.”

Reid waited, figuring his dad would explain what was going on, why he was home in the middle of the afternoon. Instead his father’s shoulders trembled, then collapsed. He covered his face with his hands and started twitching. Reid was confused for a second, but when his father sniffed, Reid realized he was crying.

Reid stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Dad? Are you okay?”

He shook his head and sobbed for real this time, his shoulders jerking up and down. Reid didn’t know what to do, what to do physically or with the massive block of resentment and anger that was crushing him. But he wasn’t such an asshole that he would walk away and get something to eat while his father sat there crying, so he just stood there.

After what seemed like an eternity, his father wiped his eyes with his hands, lifted his head, and ran his hands through his hair. He looked at Reid’s knees at first, then stole a glance at his face. He was embarrassed, and scared.

Reid realized something might have happened to his mom. He took a seat across from his father. “Dad. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s Brynn.” His face twisted up. “She’s gone.”

Reid hadn’t even thought about Brynn. “Gone? Gone where?”

“To your grandparents’. She’s with Tinsley.”

“Jesus, Dad! Is that all?” Reid had been expecting something tragic, not news that his sister was being pampered by Grammy in her mansion.

His father seemed shocked by his response, like it really was tragic. “Yes. That’s it.” He pursed his lips. “No. Of course not just that.” He lowered his head like he was moving something heavy around in his mind and couldn’t look at anything other than his hands while he worked on it. “It’s Brynn. It’s your mother.” He glanced at Reid. “It’s you.” His face crumpled and he began to cry again.