Page 118 of A Heart So Haunted
“Is this about, you know. Your mom?” I asked.
The room grew so quiet, I heard the air settle around us. The question hung like a swaying chandelier—any moment, that final wire holding it in place would snap and it would crash to the floor.
“No,” she breathed. Her pointer finger traced an idle path around the edges of her hand, where tan met porcelain. “I just want to make sure you’re making good choices and not going out and picking up a random off the street—”
“You’re changing the subject.” I reached out and started tracing a path, too. When we were young, we would use our fingers as racecars and see which of us could complete as many laps as possible on her macules before the other. I’d take a thigh, she’d take the other thigh. We’d end in a fit of giggles and start over again.
A sigh. “My mom should have left Vince a long time ago.”
“He’ll get the house,” I muttered. My finger stopped tracing. Instead, I glared at the table. “He’ll get the cars. The kids are all gone. No child support. She’ll be kicked.”
Emma nodded. “I stopped by before I left.”
“How was she?”
“Terrible. Looked like she’d gotten stung by a bee and had an allergic reaction. For every bag she packed, she wrote down something on a list. I read it.” Emma leaned back in her chair and smiled. “One said, ‘Pour instant potatoes in front yard.’ Another, ‘Slash three tires, not all four, insurance won’t cover it.’ ”
“A revenge list?”
“A verylongrevenge list.”
“Sounds like she’s handling it a little better than my mom did.” I thought of the bottles that had slowly piled up in the corner of her bedroom after my father left. “Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head. “Not a thing. I offered to let her stay at my place. She agreed to one week and that’s it. Said she needed to do this on her own.”
“Well—”
The front door slammed open. The rattle of the stained-glass sheets made both Emma and I swivel in our seats. I really needed to start locking the front door.
Sayer stomped into the living room, a basket in his arms. A single tasseled kazoo poked out, lined with four bags of candy and a sign, taped to a popsicle stick, that read,Congratulations!in arching, rainbowed font.
“Surprise!” He held the basket in the air. His glasses slid down his nose. He walked to the island and dropped his present in the center of it. “I thought this would be fitting.”
“I thought—y-you aren’t supposed to be here?” I stuttered. I stood and examined the basket. Confetti lined the bottom. “What is this?”
Sayer removed his glasses, wiped them on his shirt, then pushed them back into place. “For you. Who else?”
I looked back to Emma. She smiled.
It clicked.
“You didn’t,” I muttered. “Did you tell him? It’s been thirty minutes.”
“Of course. I told him as soon as I went outside.” She got up and hugged me from behind, nuzzling her chin into my shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t. Thankfully, he was already on the way.”
“Let go of me, traitor.”
“What’s he look like?” Sayer asked. He squinted, lips puckered. He leaned against the island and propped his chin in his hand. “Tall? Brooding? Does he smolder?” Sayer proceeded to smolder.
I covered my eyes. “This is excessive.”
“Did you have sex?”
“No! We did not!”
“Have you?”
“What are we, high schoolers?”
