The Black Coats(19)
Louise made a face. “Ugh, Thea, I can’t believe you have to see her at school every day.”
“Yeah.” Dread slithered its way through Thea. Mirabelle could make her life a living hell at Roosevelt.
“The sad thing is”—Casey laughed, a bright smile dissolving her normally scowling face—“she was totally right about the Cure. I love them so much.”
Team Banner erupted into laughter. “We’re a motley crew,” pronounced Bea, plopping the last dish into the sink. “I mean, we pretty much have nothing in common except . . .”
Silence enveloped the group as they each recoiled at her words, each girl suddenly plunged into the darkest corners of her own mind. Finally, Thea spoke up, a small tremble in her voice. “Except the fact that we all lost someone, or had something horrible happen to us.”
Bea added, “Even Mirabelle.”
The moment was broken as Nixon popped her head around the swinging kitchen door. “Girls. How long does it take to wash dishes? There are four of you. Wrap it up.”
Thea turned to Nixon, speaking quietly as the team finished the dishes. “I’m so sorry about the hallway, ma’am, with Ms. Westing. It won’t happen again. Sometimes, when I’m caught off guard, I just . . .”
Nixon knowingly put her hand on Thea’s shoulder. “Sometimes it’s a smell or a song, or perhaps a memory that shakes its way loose at the worst possible time. You can’t predict it, and if you could, you still couldn’t control it. Grief is fighting an invisible tidal wave.”
Nixon had lost someone, too. That made sense.
Thea nodded. “Yes. It’s just like that.”
“I understand, Thea, but I need you to do something for me in return.”
“Of course. Anything.”
“I need you to make sure that Mirabelle comes back tomorrow.” Anything but that, Thea thought, but she nodded all the same.
Eight
Later that night, after she scarfed down her mother’s chicken casserole, Thea limped up the stairs to her room. The soreness of muscles that hadn’t been used in a long time roared back at her. Upon entering her room, she saw her backpack and shook her head with a chuckle. “I actually have to do homework now. Fantastic.”
Thea was reaching for her backpack when she heard the shout of a male voice outside. She sprang over to the window and flung open the dual panes. The windows pushed out into the branches of the large tree that dominated their lawn. She looked up and down the street in front of her house and thought, No, it couldn’t be.
In front of Natalie’s house sat a white pickup truck, the same kind that Cabby Baptist drove. Thea inhaled sharply, the very sight of it painful. She reached for the phone, but as her hand curled around it, one of the painters came around from the rear of the house and threw a ladder in the back. As he walked toward the driver’s seat, Thea noticed a thin green stripe running around the bottom of the truck and the logo on the driver’s-side door. It wasn’t even the same vehicle; in fact, now she could see it wasn’t even the same model. The painter climbed into the truck and drove off.
Thea sat in front of the windowsill, clutching at her heart, her breaths coming hard and fast. Then she stumbled to the bathroom and clumsily opened her medicine cabinet, reaching for the orange Xanax bottle. One tiny blue pill fell out into her hands. Thea shoved it into her mouth and swallowed without thinking.
“Calm down. It was nothing,” she murmured to herself, crossing the room and slamming the window shut.
“Thea, everything okay?” It was her mom’s voice, always concerned. Thea was reassured by it.
“I’m fine, Mom. I just dropped my book bag.” Thea climbed up into her bed, leaving her homework undone. Instead, she let her mind wander to places it shouldn’t, the Xanax calming her breathing but not much else. Her mind swirled like a tornado. A white pickup truck: the object she saw in her nightmares. A trigger, the grief counselor had called it. The last car Natalie had ever seen had been a white pickup truck.
Thea climbed into her bed, helpless as the disputed facts of Natalie’s murder flooded her vulnerable mind.
Her cousin had just wrapped up her first year of college when she announced plans to visit. Thea was elated. It was the first year the cousins had been apart, and it had taken an obvious toll on their friendship. While Thea was happy that Natalie was loving college life, the simmering jealousy she felt at Natalie’s new adventures with new friends made it hard to talk to her on the phone.
She had felt left behind, and suddenly the previously insignificant gap between their ages was now as wide as the ocean. Thea had friends, but she missed the one who had been an extension of her own body. So when Natalie had come home that weekend, Thea had practically tackled her on the front lawn, both of them shrieking with laughter in a moment of pure joy. It was short-lived, however, as they struggled with normal conversation as the day wore on.
Thea had tried not to care about Natalie’s weird political rants and her dismissive attitude about Thea’s high school problems, but it didn’t work. Natalie announced she wasn’t going to come to Thea’s practice meet because she was going camping, and that had left Thea bitter and stung. The weekend was awkward, and then, before she knew it, Natalie was leaving. Thea had watched Natalie pack up her car as she stood awkwardly next to it with her arms crossed and heart aching. But just before she left, Natalie had paused and walked over to her, pulling her cousin into her arms. “Hey, girl,” she had said. “I’m sorry I can’t come to the meet. I’ll call you in a few days, and we’ll plan for you to come up next month. It will just be us. We’ll be okay.”