Page 36 of Borrowed
Toby wasn’t talking.He was quiet.Toby didn’t like Mother.
“What about Toby?I don’t want to leave him in the white walls.”
The nurse smiled again, her face cracking at the corners.“I’m so happy to hear Toby would like to come.That’s a great idea, Tabitha.Let Toby come along.”
Now, I smiled.
* * *
The car hummedlike a lullaby I didn’t ask for.I liked the way the vibration tickled beneath my thighs, but not enough to smile about it.The window was cold when I pressed my cheek to it, even though the sun was out and the trees looked like they were waving at me with their knuckly fingers.
Toby didn’t like the sun.It made him quiet.He still hadn’t talked since leaving the white walls.
Mother didn’t talk either.Her fingers clutched the wheel like it was going to escape.She smelled like hospital soap and old perfume…the kind she wore before everything turned to ash.I wanted to ask her why she brought it back out.For me?For show?
“I don’t think she missed you,” Toby whispered, finally skirting toward the sun.He was curled up beside me, knees to chest, head on his armrest like he belonged there.He looked small.“She just doesn’t want the neighbors to talk.This is all for show.Probably to pay for her renovated house where she burned us.”
“That’s not true,” I murmured, lips sticking to the glass.“She’s my mother.”
“Not anymore,” he corrected.His voice was like a cut-glass smile.“You borrowed her.”
I blinked slowly, the way they taught me when I got twitchy.
One, two, three.
But the world still spun strange, and Mother still didn’t look at me.Maybe Toby was right.Mother only loved Toby.She only wanted Toby.
Not me.
She hadn’t looked at me once since the ward’s doors clicked shut behind us.
Not a single glance.
Not even when the nurse said, “She’s doing better.”
Better than what?
Better than the fire?
Better than being dead?
I reached for her hand once.I think I did.My fingers twitched toward hers on the steering wheel, but something about her knuckles, white, tight, scared, made me stop.
“She’s afraid of you,” Toby said, his lips brushing my ear, even though he was still curled up on the seat.“She thinks you’ll ruin things again.”
I bit my nail.“I didn’t ruin anything.”
“You burned,” he said, “And took me with you.”
That wasn’t true.I remembered that day.I was the one screaming.I was the one clawing at the door.He was already gone.
Wasn’t he?
The house peeked around the corner like a shy child.
Same slanted porch.
Same broken wind chime.
