Page 53 of Somewhere Without You
Thirty
Before
Rainstreakedacrossthecarwindows, turning the streetlights into glowing smears as Gran’s old Crown Vic tore through town like a bat out of hell. The pulse of heavy music thudded through the brick walls of the Old Mill Tavern. Gran slammed on her brakes, the force of it, throwing me against my seatbelt.
“Stay here,”she ordered, slamming the door behind her.
Katherinehadsnuckout. One month shy of her eighteenth birthday, her rebellious attitudehadbecomeworse with the shadow of adulthood lurking around the corner. She and Granwereconstantlyfighting, and the two of us nolongerspent afternoons chasing butterflies in the field or searching for earthworms in the garden.
Still, sneaking into the local barwasthe last thing I expected. Sure,I’dcaughther puffing a cigarette behind the barn once, andshe’dadmittedto allowing Eddie Preston togetto third base, but thiswasa whole new level of defiance.Evenfor her.
Granwasalways aboutgoodvibes and gentle hands. That’s why it shocked me toseeher dragging Katherine out by the collar, one hand clamped around her neck like a vice. Katherine’s hairwasa mess, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy and distant. She didn’tlookat me as she slid into the back seat alongside me.
“What the hell am I gonna do with you?”Gran asked, gripping the wheel as we pulled away. Itwasthe first timeI’deverheardher curse.
“Nobody asked you to save us,”Katherine slurred, the heavy stench of booze rolling off her in waves. Iwatchedthem bothcarefully, holding my breath.
“Whatwereyou gonna do?”Gran shot back.“Go live with your father?”
Silence followed. Icouldseethe regret hit her the second the words left her mouth.
“I hate you,”my sister hissed.
“Yeah? Well, I’m not your biggest fan either,”Gran said, eyes locked on the road.
Whenwe got home, Katherine stormed upstairs. A moment later, our bedroom door slammed so hard it rattled the walls as the sound echoed down the hall.
Gran lit a few incense, the spicy-sweet scent curling through the air as she sank onto the couch, pressing a hand to her forehead.
“She’sjustlike your mother,”she mumbled—more to herself than to me. Itwasthe first and only timeI’deverheardher mention Mom.“You can sleep in my bed if you want,”she added after a moment, her light brown eyes dull with exhaustion.“I’ll stay out here tonight.”
I didn’t answer—justturned and padded up the stairs.Butinstead of slipping into Gran’s room, Iquietlyopened the door to ours.
Katherinewason her side, facing the window and I crawled into the bed across from her. After a while, her voice drifted over my shoulder.
“I’m moving to California.Assoon as I turn eighteen.”
I turned to face her.
“I’m going to be an actress,”she continued with a yawn.“AndI’ll live in abighouse next to the ocean.”
“What about me?”I asked, tears already welling up at the thought of her leaving.“You saidwe’dalways be together.”
“Andwe will,”she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and cheap booze.“Assoon as you’re old enough, you’ll come live with me. Everything will be perfect.”
“You promise?”
“I promise,”she murmured.
I clung to her words like a lifeline.“Pinkie swear?”I whispered, holding out my smallest finger.
She blinkedslowly,thenhooked hers around mine with a lazy smile.“Pinkie swear,”she echoed, before rolling over and drifting off.
I stayedtherelong after she fell asleep, staring at the ceiling, memorizing the sound of the fan clicking above us, the way the curtains swayed in the breeze. I wanted to believe her—Ineededto.Butsomewhere deep in the quiet, Ifeltthatheavy, gnawing doubt.
Promises made in the dark didn’t always survive the daylight.
Thirty One
