Safe Landing Page 13

  “Not sure.”

  “Brazil,” Mom said in her concerned mom’s tone.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to stay long.” I pushed a chip into my mouth.

  “Stay as long as you want,” Mom interjected. She was under the illusion that I was on track to make a bunch of new friends and this made her happy. I decided to let her live with the fantasy for a while.

  I must have been hungrier than I thought because I cleaned my plate. Mom was about to serve me some more, but I put up my hand to stop her. “I’ve got to run up and brush my teeth. Then I’m off.”

  “Brazil’s got some kissing plans,” Tyler sang then shoveled a bean covered chip into his mouth. Raymond laughed with a full mouth.

  “I know this will come as a shocking revelation to both of you, but some people make teeth brushing a habit.”

  “We brush our teeth,” Raymond insisted.

  “No, I mean daily and with toothpaste.”

  I rushed upstairs to brush. Sebastian appeared on the rim of the tub. “Are you planning on kissing someone?”

  “Not you too,” I mumbled through a mouthful of paste. I rinsed and wiped my mouth on a towel. “I try to brush after every meal because cavities suck.”

  “You’re tense.”

  I leaned to the mirror to put on some lip gloss. “I’ve never gone on a spy mission before. I feel like I’m going in to steal top secret documents.”

  “You are very pretty, Brazil.”

  I smiled back at him in the mirror. “For a trash talking rabbit.”

  “No, I mean for a girl.”

  “You don’t have to waste your flattery on me. I told you I was going to look for the diary.”

  “You won’t let yourself believe it, will you?”

  I turned and leaned against the counter. “Believe what?”

  “You are an incredible girl.”

  My cheeks warmed, and suddenly, I wished guys nowadays were more like him. His words weren’t just some insincere flattery used to get into my pants. He meant what he said, and the way he said it made me feel good.

  Mom was at the bottom of the stairs. “Zilly, if you’re talking to your dad, tell him the boys want to go for pizza after you look for cars.”

  “It’s not my dad,” I called back down. “I hate when she refers to him as your dad like he’s totally not related to her in any way.”

  “Truthfully, he isn’t.”

  “You know what I mean.” I headed out of the bathroom but twisted around at the last minute. Sebastian was still there. His eyes looked darker and softer than usual, and his mouth was set in a somber, serious line. “Remember, no promises,” I whispered and trotted down the stairs and out the door.

  Hank’s house reminded me of something out of a family sitcom. Everything was clean and orderly with no hint of style or taste. There was a group of his friends hovering around a keg in the kitchen, which he claimed his father had bought for them. Dad must have been as rubber brained as his son.

  Two girls joined the party. I’d never seen either of them at school, but they also looked like the type I would avoid if I had seen them. Both of them were wearing tight mini-skirts and tube tops, showing off the tan lines they’d earned today. The only difference between them was one wore blue eye shadow and one wore pink. They greeted me with synchronized sneers.

  Hank put a possessive hand on my lower back. I tried to inch away from it without being too obvious. “Guys, this is Brazil.”

  “Great volleyball game,” some extra large guy with a tattoo covering most of his massive arm said from behind his paper cup of beer foam.

  “Thanks.”

  Hank picked up a filled cup from the counter and offered it to me.

  “I’m not really into beer. Besides, I drove here tonight.”

  Major disappointment inched into Hank’s otherwise expressionless face. “That’s cool.”

  It was obvious his plans of getting me drunk were ruined. He swallowed back the cup himself, and it occurred to me that beer might just be my savior tonight. If Hank got drunk enough, it might be easier to go fishing around in his closet.

  “So were you on the volleyball team at your old school?” the girl with blue eyelids asked.

  “No, my sport was equitation.”

  My answer had elicited the puzzled looks I’d expected. “Does that have to do with math?” the same girl inquired.

  “OMG, you are stupid,” the girl with pink eye shadow giggled.

  “Then what is it?” blue girl snapped to her pink friend.

  The girl stood open mouthed for a second then shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it has nothing to do with math.”

  “Horses,” I interjected quickly hoping to put an abrupt end to their mind-numbing conversation. “I jumped horses.”

  “Oh,” they responded together.

  “Cool. Did you ride in a blue bikini?” Hank said with his limitless vocabulary to back him up. A couple of his friends raised their paper cups in a toast to his asinine comment. This was going to be a long night. I hoped they finished off the keg quickly and that beer would not make Hank a bigger ass than he was sober.

  The pool table in Hank’s family room kept me from having to converse much with people at the party. As they got drunker, their topics became stupider. I half expected them to start a debate about the earth being flat. Hank was having a hard time standing straight. When his pool stick nearly ripped the green table felt, that was my cue to find the infamous closet under the stairs.

  I handed off my stick to the blue girl who had not stopped giggling since she spilled a cup of beer down her shirt. “Which way to the bathroom?” I asked.

  Hank’s stick nearly wiped out the glass lamp over the table as he pointed down the hall. “Up the stairs and on your right.”

  Pink girl and the guy with the tattoo sleeve were making out at the top of the stairs. Obviously, four more steps to the bedroom were too much. Underneath the stairwell was a triangular opening with a white paneled door. I hoped Hank’s mom’s neatness continued to the closet. It might attract attention if I had to start pulling out skis, umbrellas, and brooms. The two lovers at the top of the stairs were too into each other to notice me, so I opened the door.

  I hadn’t met the woman, and she’d raised a horrible son, but I liked her housekeeping style. Everything was neatly tucked away in boxes on shelves. The floorboards were still exposed. I didn’t know much about flooring, but the wood looked old and original. Footsteps plodded down the hall, so I hunched down inside the dark closet leaving the door only slightly ajar. The loud, clumping steps had to be Hank’s.

  “Shit, get a room you two. Did you see Brazil walk by?”

  There was no answer, only some grunts and moans.

  “Fuck it, I need another brewsky,” Hank grumbled and lumbered back to the family room.

  Who knew that a keg of beer could be such a lifesaver? I knocked on the wood plank floor beneath me hoping for a hollow sound. They all sounded hollow. More footsteps made me scoot back further in the closet. A board moved beneath my heel. There was a slim gap between the wood planks. I waited for the footsteps to pass, then I pushed my fingertips into the narrow sliver and pulled. The board lifted. I had to reach in blindly, which freaked me out because I was sure there had to be rats below. There was definitely a lot webs. I decided to wipe off them on the bottom of a coat hanging nearby in hopes that it was Hank’s. I pushed my arm in deeper, scraping my bruised flesh on the side of the plank. My fingers brushed something solid, something that wasn’t dust or cobwebs. My hand wrapped around it. I hoped I wasn’t dragging out some fossilized animal carcass.

  I blew away the dust and stared down at a discarded piece of wood. No diary. I had ruined my chances with Seth and cozied up to the worst guy at school for a rotted piece of wood. Emily’s diary had no doubt traveled with her to New York. I mean it made sense. What girl would leave it behind no matter how quickly she was whisked away from home? Worst of all, I would have to br
eak the news to my lovesick roommate that he might be stuck in this world forever, never to know if Emily truly loved him.

  “Hey, so this is where you’ve been hiding.” Hank’s voice surprised me, and I dropped the piece of wood. He leaned into the closet and was too drunk to think it strange that I was standing inside it. His breath smelled like stale sewer water. Instinctively, I backed out of his stream of breath and bumped into the back wall of the closet. Being wedged between a wall and a drunken caveman was never a good situation.

  “Silly me, I got lost on the way to the bathroom.”

  His big feet stepped closer, and I held my breath to keep from turning green. “You know what this closet is?”

  I shrugged. “A storage place for stuff?” My eyes darted past his shoulder to find my route of escape. It was like trying to find a way around a brick wall. Only there was no way to climb over this one.

  His hands grabbed my waist. “This is the make-out closet.” His fingers tightened around me.

  “Oh really,” I laughed nervously. “Maybe next time. I need to get going. My mom wanted me home early.”

  “Home? No way. You just got here.” His thick chest started pressing against me.

  My feet took several steps back but the wall stopped my retreat. The last thing I wanted was to be trapped inside a small space with him.

  He leaned to kiss me and being drunk enough to only concentrate on one maneuver at a time, his grip on my waist loosened. I squirmed out from under his puckered lips and slid past him. He whipped around and had to grab the doorway to steady himself.

  “Some other time, huh?” I ran to the front door and down the steps secure in the knowledge that his reflexes were too dulled to follow. Now I just had to worry about seeing him at school on Monday. Or maybe this whole night would be erased from his beer soaked memory.

  Chapter 15

  “You’re home earlier than I expected,” Mom called from the family room as I walked in. The poor, deluded woman thought I’d made new, real friends.

  I paused in the doorway. Mom was sitting on the couch surrounded by her furry brood watching a black and white movie.

  “They weren’t really my type of people.”

  She looked over the back of the couch. “You’ll meet some people who are your type, I’m sure. Was Seth there?”

  Seth had obviously caught her fancy. Unfortunately, he’d caught mine too. But now, of course, he hated me. “Nah, he doesn’t hang with these guys. And I told you, he has a girlfriend.”

  A clinking noise drifted down the stairs. Mom twisted around. “What was that?”

  I scooted to the stairs. “I’m sure it’s just the boys. Remember this old house is full of noises.” In this case, I was sure the noise was coming from an impatient, lovesick ghost. “I’m going to bed since Dad is coming early.” Now that I’d stopped insisting the house was haunted, Mom was no longer watching me with a worried expression. It was all pretty friggin’ ironic.

  Sure enough, Sebastian was sitting in my room clanging my silver bracelet against the metal frame of my mirror. “It’s about time,” he said. “Well?”

  “Good to see you too.” I plopped onto bed and was stupidly amazed that the movement on the mattress did not disturb his image. On the drive home, I’d gone over the scenario of breaking the news to Sebastian several times. I decided I would tell him and then prepare to duck and cover in case objects started to fly.

  I sat up and looked at him. His dark eyes seemed to glitter with hope. “Sebastian, the diary is not there anymore. Emily must have taken it with her.”

  He floated quickly across the room to the window. It seemed to be his favorite place in the house and that made sense. If I were trapped inside a house for eternity, I think I would find myself pressed against the window a lot too. My heart sank at the thought of it. The poor guy couldn’t get a break even in death.

  “Are you sure you looked in the right place? Were you at the right address?”

  “I’m sorry, Sebastian. The address was the same as on your envelopes. And there was only one closet under the stairs. I’m sure it was the right place. Several planks of floor were loose and I was able to lift them. Nothing there but dust and a piece of wood.”

  He said nothing for a long moment. His image shrunk down some as he went deeper into his thoughts. All this time, all these years, waiting to discover if Emily had still loved him, and now, without the diary, there was no way to know. He would never rest. I was sad for him but not completely disappointed. It occurred to me that having Sebastian to talk to had taken my mind off of feeling sorry for myself so much.

  “Sebastian, Emily’s granddaughter said her grandmother was very fond of you. I’m sure she loved you even after she left town.”

  He laughed softly. “Fond. Fond is not love. Fond is what a gardener feels for his rose bushes or an artist for his color palette.” He vanished leaving a coolness in the air that felt like despair.

  I scrunched myself into a ball and groaned as my tender arms tightened around my legs. Sleep came fast.

  Chapter 16

  While Saturday had swung like a pendulum between a high rating and a low, Sunday started out as a two and pretty much stuck there all day. Except when it sank to a mindboggling and rare rating of one.

  It began when I trotted merrily down to Dad’s car only to discover that Cynthia had tagged along for the car shopping day. I smiled weakly at her as Dad nervously explained that she needed to stop at some furniture place near the beach to look for a certain coffee table. I didn’t respond and slid into the backseat of his car where I stealthily positioned myself so he could easily see my scowl in the rearview mirror but his little girlfriend couldn’t.

  “Your mom seems to like her new job,” Dad said obviously trying to make me forget that he’d brought her along. Now he was using the your word to distance himself from Mom like she did with him.

  “Yes, my mom does.” His gray-blue eyes flickered in the rear view as if I’d either pissed him off or hurt him with my sarcasm. I noticed his sideburns were now peppered with silver making him look older and Cynthia ridiculously younger sitting next to him. I started wondering if she really loved him. My dad was handsome, as far as dads go. He had a cool job, and he could crack great jokes, but I don’t think I could ever fall for someone who was so much older.

  “I thought we’d look at a hybrid car. That way your gas bill will be low,” Dad said.

  Cynthia turned around and flashed her straight, white teeth at me. “Plus, you’ll be doing your part to save the planet.”

  My face tightened as I held back the evil smirk that wanted to erupt. “That’s me, Captain America, ready to save the planet.” Cynthia’s smile shrank to a stretched grin, and she turned back to the road. I glanced up at the rear view mirror. Dad’s eyebrows scrunched together with disappointment.

  We drove in silence for awhile before Dad attempted another topic of conversation. “So how’s the new house and school?”

  I had always been pissed that he had not insisted we stay in Boston. It was as if his family moving a greater distance away gave him the freedom he needed as a new bachelor. “My room is haunted by a heartbroken, 19th century ghost named Sebastian.” I loved how nonchalantly I could say that knowing no one would believe me.

  “Very funny, Brazil,” Dad said.

  Cynthia, on the other hand, swiveled around under the shoulder belt and gripped the top of the leather seat with long, pink fingernails. “Is it really haunted? I mean it looks like it could be.” Her lashes were long and curled like she’d used one of those eyelash curler things. She blinked wide-eyed with interest at me. I could easily envision her sitting on a couch, painting her toenails, and watching one of those cable shows about some haunting in small town Iowa where the Catholic priest had to come in and exorcise the place because books were flying off the shelves.

  “It’s definitely haunted. The guy was murdered by his uncle, and now, he is stuck between worlds.”

  She tw
isted even further around. “I’d heard that that’s why they stick around. Some unresolved conflict.” Cynthia was totally into this. Dad looked ready to turn the car around and drop me back home.

  “How’s the new school?” Dad broke in. “Make any new friends?”

  I relaxed back satisfied that I’d made somewhat of an ass of Cynthia, at least in my Dad’s eyes. “Tons.”

  “Great to hear.” He moved to turn on a music station which was probably his safest bet.

  When we got out of the car at the dealership, Cynthia excused herself to restroom. Dad grabbed my arm and turned me toward him. “Brazil, knock it off.”

  “Knock what off?” I asked innocently.

  “You know what I mean. I know this is a difficult adjustment for you, but Cynthia and I are together. Your mom and I did not raise you to be rude.”

  “Fine.” I pulled my arm out of his grasp. “But why did she have to come along today?”

  “I already told you why.”

  “Right, I forgot. The coffee table.”

  His face melted as if when I said the reason out loud, it sounded just as ridiculous to him as it did to me when he stuttered it out this morning. Cynthia returned. We surveyed the lot, successfully dodging any pushy salespeople. There were no hybrids, so we got in the car and moved on. Dad turned the music up louder while we drove.

  When the day crashes to a one, it is usually expected. But when something comes out of left field to blast it to a one unexpectedly, it takes time to register. Was it actually a one or was it something that would eventually fade to a two? In this case, it was a solid one for my dad. The jury was still out for me.

  “Oh look,” Cynthia pointed to the side of the road, “a vegan, sushi bar.” She leaned over and put her hand on Dad’s shoulder, and I could swear he pulled it away slightly. “That reminds of that little place we found when we were in Hawaii two summers ago.” Even though she seemed pretty clueless, Cynthia froze along with my dad at what she’d just said. Two summers ago, my parents were still married. Now it became crystal clear why my mom had not stopped him from leaving.