Читать книгу Nowhere But Here - Кэти Макгэрри, Katie McGarry - Страница 11
ОглавлениеTHE OFFICE OF a funeral director resembles those of normal people: file cabinets, a desk, a rolly chair, paperwork, a computer, pictures of kids and families. No jars of blood, no dead people or dead people parts. Small consolation.
I’m ticked. Extremely ticked. Like a-tick-interrupted-from-a-meal ticked.
She’s alive. My freaking non-grandmother is still alive, and she scared the hell out of me.
Completely spent, I sit in the chair, hold my phone and wait impatiently for it to vibrate. I left Mom a message, and someone went to find Dad. I want to go home.
My legs have the strength of mashed potatoes. I’m cold and clammy, and my stomach churns like I vomited. That’s because I did, in the viewing room, and I discovered that yellow bile does not blend well with red velvet industrial carpeting. My crowning achievement in overreaction.
Through the large window facing the hallway, I can see the crowd hasn’t dispersed. Instead, the mass of bodies has increased since my moment of glory. Almost everyone gawks at me—laughing. My mom said Eli’s family was psychotic, but this...this is...
The door squeaks open and the guy who caught me and kept me from falling to the floor enters the room with a can of Sprite. He’s rocked out in those loose jeans, a studded black belt and a black T-shirt. “Olivia says it’s not officially a party until somebody pukes.”
“Glad I added to the fun.”
He perches on the edge of the folding chair across from me and offers the Sprite. “Eli told me to get you this.”
I keep my hands planted in my lap. Nothing today has gone right and I’m not a hundred percent sure I’m done puking.
“It’s Sprite, not crack,” he says.
“Thank you.” I accept the soda and set it on the desk. “Are you my cousin?”
He doesn’t resemble me or Eli with his blue eyes and grown-out black hair. The type of hair that’s not overly long, but long enough that girls would be drawn to him because it’s the correct length for seductive rebellion. The ends lick the collar of his shirt and hide his ears. He has the type of hair Blake Harris was suspended from school over. But that’s not where my eyes linger. What captivates me is the way the sleeves of his T-shirt cling to his muscles. He’s ripped in a very awesome way.
“No blood relation,” he answers.
Good, because he has that alternative-music-band hotness and thinking someone I’m related to is sexy could send me into another meltdown.
“Will you do all of us a favor?” he asks.
I shrug, not exactly in the mood for conversation.
“Play nice with Olivia, then leave.”
“Excuse me? Play nice? With her? She freaked me out.”
He leans back in the chair and sprawls his legs out in a way that makes him appear larger than life and leaves me feeling claustrophobic. “Look, I know you’re going all prodigal daughter, but this ain’t the time or place. This is Olivia’s party and you’re ruining it.”
“Prodigal what?”
“Daughter. Bible. The long-lost son returning home.”
I stare at him, not sure what to say.
He gives a short laugh. “I heard that about your mom. Gave up God and family.”
No one speaks badly about my mom. “I heard you’re all crazy. And guess what? It’s true.”
“Why? Because Olivia’s enjoying her life?”
“Because she plays make-believe in a coffin and all of you are okay with it.”
“Better than screaming like a two-year-old and puking our guts out.”
I was wrong—he’s not hot. He’s evil. Very, very evil. “It’s sick. This whole thing is sick. You people are absolutely insane!”
The guy stands. “You need to leave. You want to see Eli? Wait for him to spend all his money so he can visit you this summer. This party is for Olivia and the people who care for her. You don’t belong here.”
The door opens and Eli and Olivia walk in. Eli had been smiling, but one flickering glance between me and Sprite guy and Eli’s mouth firms into a hard line. “Is there a problem, Oz?”
His crazy name suits this insane day. Oz flashes an easygoing grin and I’m overwhelmed with the urge to slap him. “Nope.”
Eli surveys me and his jaw relaxes. “Are you okay?”
Embarrassed—yes. Mortified—definitely. Okay—not at all. “Yeah.”
“I need to speak to my granddaughter.” Olivia pats Oz’s arm.
He envelops her in a bear of a hug, looks at me over her shoulder and mouths “leave.” He walks out and I’ve never been so happy to see someone go in my life. Hot or otherwise.
Olivia eases into the chair across from me, pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her jeans and lights one up. “I have cancer and the doctors aren’t hopeful.”
I steal a peek at Eli, who rests his back against the wall. He’s watching me, and I suddenly feel like a fish in a glass bowl. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Olivia says. “I’ve fought a good fight and lived a great life. God calls us all home at some point.” She blows out the smoke and I swallow the cough that tickles my throat.
“Funerals are expensive,” she states. It’s a pause and an uncomfortable one. She props her elbow on the desk, and I’m strangely fascinated by the way she holds her forearm up and dangles the cigarette from her bent hand.
“Okay,” I prompt, hoping this will continue the conversation.
She nails Eli’s smile and I notice her dark eyes—my eyes. Olivia is pretty and doesn’t seem old enough to have a granddaughter my age. A part of me wonders if I’ll resemble her when I grow older.
“And if I’m going to waste that much money on a party, I prefer to be part of the action.”
“So you planned your own funeral and attended it.” Weird. Very, very weird.
“Yes. Sorry about earlier. Bad timing. I thought I’d test-drive the bed in a box. See what these bones could be spending eternity in. It’s either that or the furnace.”
I shift in my chair. That’s not weird. It’s nuts.
“Eli fucked up the e-mail to your family. Put in the obituary instead of the party announcement. I wrote the two at the same time. Figured I’d be the best person to write what I want people to read after I bite.” Olivia takes another drag off her cigarette and flicks the ashes into a coffee mug.
“Muck.” I’ve heard people say fuck before. Guys say it at school constantly, but...
Her forehead wrinkles. “What?”
“You should use muck instead. You’re a...grandmother...” and the words fall off because they sound stupid.
She cackles. Like a witch. Head thrown back and everything. I shrink farther into the chair and will my phone to ring or my dad to show. Why is it taking so long for him to find me?
“Muck. I’ll remember it. Back to the conversation. I don’t regret what Eli sent.” She sucks in one more draw before dropping the cigarette into the mug. It sizzles in the liquid. “I’m meeting you.”
Simultaneous buzzing. My phone vibrates against the palm of my hand. Eli yanks his phone out of his back pocket. Too bad he didn’t answer it last night. He could have saved us from this terrible torment.
We both accept the calls. “Hi, Mom.”
“Are you okay, baby?” She sounds close to hysterics. I regret leaving the message while sobbing like a lunatic.
“Yes. I’m fine. Just freaked.” Nothing a lifetime of therapy won’t fix.
Mom rattles on and I tune her out while listening for key words that indicate I should speak. I’m more interested in Eli’s conversation.
“I know.” Eli rubs his forehead. “Jeff...” It’s my dad. “Hear me out.”
From the silence on Eli’s end, it’s obvious Dad’s in no mood to listen, and I wonder why he’s not in here talking to Eli face-to-face. Mom pauses. “Em?”
Crap, caught not listening. “I’m here.”
“I said you need to leave. Right now. Walk out the door, do you understand?”
A twinge of panic strangles my heart when I look out the office’s window. Two men guard the door. These guys weren’t present before. At least I don’t think they were. They aren’t laughing or carrying on like everyone else in the hallway. Their backs are to us and their spines are arrow-straight. But what causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end is how they turn their heads to observe the crowd as if they’re expecting something...or someone.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask Mom.
“Outside,” she answers. “He’s outside and he can’t get in. Eli won’t stop you, honey. He’s capable of a lot of things, but he’ll let you go. Do it now, Emily. Leave.”
Eli runs a hand over his face as he continues his conversation with Dad. “That’s not necessary. There’s no reason to change those plans. Emily is fine. A little shaken up, but she doesn’t need to go home.”
He opens the door and snaps his fingers at the two huge men. Both wear the same black vest as Eli. “Emily’s dad is at the front entrance. I told someone to get him in here. I won’t ask nicely again.”
Eli closes the door then returns to talking to Dad. “They’re going to let you in. Give me your word that she can visit with my mother. Not here, though. Somewhere...quieter.”
“No.” Olivia’s eyes widen and she touches Eli’s arm. “You promised.”
Eli gives his head a small shake. Olivia pivots in my direction. “Tell Meg to let you stay.” Her voice rises with each syllable. “Tell her you want to meet your family. Tell her you want to spend time with me. With your father!”
“Tell her?” My forehead furrows. I don’t tell my mom what to do. It’s Mom.
“Tell me what?” Mom asks.
“Olivia wants me to tell you that I should stay.”
“No.” Mom grows suddenly firm. “Leave now.”
“Thanks for the reminder!” Eli smacks his hand on the wall. A corkboard tacked up beside him crashes to the floor. I jump with the impact and draw myself in, wishing I could disappear.
I don’t know these people and they don’t know me and my dad’s outside and not inside and these people could have tempers and they could hurt me and...
“I’m aware I have no rights to my daughter,” Eli snaps. “I’m the one who signed the damn papers!”
“Baby,” Mom says in my ear. “Say goodbye to Eli and leave. The cab is waiting.”
“Okay.” I focus on my shoes. I never want to wear them again. “I’ll see you soon.”
Even though Mom’s still talking, I end the call and drop the phone to my lap. Eli, on the other hand...
“No, Jeff. Let her stay... No. No.” He opens his mouth to speak again and then lowers the phone to look at the screen. “Fuck!”
I flinch with the anger shaking out of his body and Eli swears again under his breath when he notices. “Dammit, I mean...I’m sorry, Emily.”
“It’s okay.” I comb my fingers through my hair and pretend to be interested in the strands. Mom said Dad’s outside and I’m going to ignore any reason for why he can’t make it in. It’s not because I’m trapped here. It’s not because these people are trying to force something I don’t want.
This is okay and I’m going to be okay. Deep breaths in. Long breaths out.
“Call her back,” Olivia says to me. “Call Meg back and tell her you’re staying.”
My hands tremble as I pick up my purse and slip my phone into the pocket. “She told me to leave.”
“Do you always do what you’re told?”
I cling tighter to the handles on my bag. My mom told me to come home. Home. A place that is safe and familiar and nothing like this insanity. This place is scary and confusing and... “She’s my mom.”
“Don’t, Mom,” Eli mumbles under his breath.
“And you’re seventeen,” Olivia points out. “Old enough to make this decision.”
“Barely seventeen,” I whisper.
“Leave her alone,” Eli says. “It’s me you’re upset with.”
Olivia wheels around. “Not you. Your daughter is caving to that woman and I’m tired of Meg telling us what we can and cannot do with our flesh and blood!” She rounds on me. “McKinley blood runs in your veins. Take a stand and tell them you’re staying.”
My wrist begins to itch and I scratch, not caring that it will make the welts bigger. Hives, my Achilles’ heel. The physical manifestation of the chaos inside me. I slowly stand, but not in the way she desires. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”
“Eli!” It’s a plea, and it causes guilt to ripple within me. I glance out the window and catch Oz watching me from the hall with his thumbs hitched in his pockets. He lowers his head and shakes it.
“She’s a good kid,” Eli says in defeat.
“What does that mean?” Olivia yells.
Eli pushes off the wall and settles his hands on Olivia’s shoulders like he did with me earlier. “It means she’s a good kid. She’s a good kid with good friends and she makes good grades at a good school and lives in a good neighborhood in a good house in an even better community. She’s a good kid with a great life and every now and then I get to be a part of it. Think about what Meg’s given her. Think about what we really have the right to demand.”
Olivia crosses her arms. “You mean she’s locked up in a safe padded world and she does everything everyone tells her.”
“Yes.” Eli nods. “And she’s happy.”
My would-be grandmother studies me and for some reason, she appears to pity me. “And that is sad.”
