Page 86 of Dying to Meet You
“You should show them that name. Rightnow. They need to know there might be another reason someone killed him.”
“Honey,” her mother says softly. “I’m curious, too. But they already know Tim took the photos off my phone. And think about what you’re saying—if somebody really killed Tim for this, do I want to be the next one they go after?”
Natalie shoves another bite of fruit in her mouth to avoid saying what she really thinks.So you’re afraid to do anything? Dad is just going to rot in there?
“Neither of us created this problem,” her mother says. “It’s not our problem to solve.”
She pushes the yogurt away, mostly uneaten. She’s lost her appetite. “I’m going to be late for yoga.”
***
“Surrender yourself to the intention you set for yourself today. Surrender and breathe.”
The yoga teacher loves to talk about inner peace during the final resting pose, but it seems to have the opposite effect. Natalie’s mind is already galloping into complications.
Like that bio exam she still hasn’t taken. And the fact that you can’t visit somebody in the Cumberland County Jail without being eighteen or having your custodial parent’s permission. She checked.
After the class saysomtogether, Beatrice rolls up her mat and smiles at Natalie. “You’ll get a donut with me, right?”
She only hesitates for a half a second. It sounds like something the adults in her life dreamt up to pacify her.Poor kid’s dad is in prison again? A donut will fix it.
On the other hand, they are some seriously good donuts. And Beatrice never lectures her, which is nice.
“Sure. I’d love one.”
There’s a long line at the Holy Donut, and now that summer is here, the lines will only get worse. “I could get a job here,” Natalie muses aloud. “Although... maybe a discount on donuts is a bad idea.”
Beatrice tips her head back and laughs. “It would be a terrible idea for me personally. And it’s not just the calories. Hot oil is bad for your face.I spent a summer working the fryer at a Burger King. I had the worst skin of my life.”
“Good tip.” Although it’s difficult to imagine Beatrice with teen acne. She always looks perfect. Today she looks like Yoga Barbie.
Beatrice gives her a sideways glance. “How are you holding up, anyway? I’m sorry about your dad.”
Ugh. “How did you know about that, anyway?”
“I’ve known your mother awhile. And Harrison is an unusual name. But most people won’t be able to put it together. I’ll bet most people don’t know.”
She’s wrong, though. Natalie is getting a weird vibe from her friends, which makes everything worse.
“My mother won’t talk to him,” she grumbles as the line moves a little. “She says he’s not a good person. The thing is, I wanted to make up my own mind about him. And now I won’t ever have a chance.”
Beatrice is quiet for a second. “Look, I never met my own dad. He thought he was too good for us, and it was a long time until I even knew his name. My mom never got over that rejection. She ran off the rails and died when I was a little girl.”
Well, now Natalie feels like an idiot. Someone always has it worse.
“But look,” Beatrice says. “I wasted alotof time wondering why my dad never had anything to do with me. I thought maybe I wasn’t a good enough little girl. I used to see all the dads around school. I thought if I was cuter or smarter, my dad would be proud to carry me on his shoulders, too.”
Natalie’s throat feels suddenly, horribly tight. “Get out of my brain.”
She expects Beatrice to laugh, but she doesn’t. Her eyes redden instead. “Listen, girlie, and listen good. I wasted so much time on those thoughts. Please don’t make this mistake, okay? Because I’m telling you, Natalie...” There’s no avoiding her big blue eyes. “You’re already the best there is. Theverybest.”
She isnotgoing to cry in line at Holy Donuts. But it’s tempting.
“And if that’s not enough to make that man show up in your life until now? That’s ahimproblem, not ayouproblem.”
Natalie has to pull in a long, slow breath. Thankfully, the line movesagain, giving her something else to focus on. She lifts her eyes to the menu and tries to think through the merits of strawberry glazed versus lemon blueberry.
Beatrice touches her lightly on the back. “If you can’t decide, we could go halfsies.”
