watched the car pull away.
The movers were already inside.
June Hart looked at me.
“You should’ve done this ages ago. Or pay me and I’ll take care of you,” she said, half–joking.
I shook my head.
I’d met June back when Cole and I were at a private club.
They were picking on her then.
I stepped in.
Later she joined a moving company and gave me her number, told me to call if I ever needed
anything.
“All right, we’re done. Call me if anything comes up,” she said.
“Thanks.”
When I used to fight with Cole and didn’t want to talk, he’d hand me a voice recorder.
He said I could record all the bad things about him and he’d listen.
Every time I ran away from home, I left him a recording, hoping he’d come find me soon.
This time, I thanked him for taking care of me for so many years and told him I was moving out of
the Lawsons‘ house.
Unlike before, I didn’t say where I was going.
I don’t remember how many years it’s been, but I remember spending nine birthdays here.
Not this year.
I went back to the old place we used to live.
The little tree by the door had grown up–crooked.
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The yard was all weeds.
I pulled them up one by one.
While trimming a branch, I slipped and fell out of the tree.
I guess I’m still clumsy enough–that must be why Cole hates me.
My stomach growled.
I found noodles but couldn’t get the gas stove to light.
I fell asleep hungry.
When I woke again, I flipped my tear–off desk calendar. I’d already ripped down to the newest page–Dad’s death anniversary.
I went out early and bought a lot of things.
I arranged everything the way Cole used to.
Then I lit three candles.
I told Dad a lot–and waited from morning until sunset.
Cole used to never be late.
He said Dad saved his life, that Dad mattered to him.
Every year, he came.
I wanted to ask if he’d forgotten.
So I called him.
I typed in 143–the “I love you” code–and his contact came up.
A girl’s voice answered.
“Told you–your guy doesn’t like you. You make him sick.”
“Why haven’t you gotten out of the Lawsons‘ place?”
“Because of your dad, because of you, you keep guilt–tripping him. It weighs on him.”
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When it revealed her sister lying underneath her husband, her
Open
hands flew to her mouth
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“If I were you, I’d have left already.”
“He’s not going to marry you.”
“Stop bothering him.”
She hung up.
So that’s what the pretty girl thought of me.
I touched the edge of Dad’s headstone, said, “Cole has someone else now. I won’t cling to him anymore…”
“Don’t worry, Dad. Tell Mom she doesn’t have to worry either.”
“Nellie can take care of herself.”
“I just… really miss you. Both of you.”
The tears came again.
A faint, disdainful voice drifted over.
“Tsk. Grown woman still a crybaby.”
I looked up, wary.
He seemed familiar.
But I couldn’t place him.
“Pipsqueak, no one looking after you? Want to come with me?” he said.
Chapter 5