The End of Always, page 16
Hearing the strain in my voice, she pauses. “Of course I do, and I meant it too.”
I touch Mom’s bracelet again, my finger tracing the six letters I know by heart. When I was little, Traci was the only person my mother trusted to take care of me when she and Dad were away. And even though I’m not little anymore, and my mother is gone for good, I still think she’d consider her best friend to be the next best thing to her.
“Good,” I say, “because I’m about to take you up on it.”
Chapter Twenty-six
We roll into Stanfield just before dinnertime, the GPS guiding us down a tree-lined street to Traci and Heath’s house, a brick bungalow with a detached garage and a neat front lawn. It looks just like it did in the pictures they sent when they first moved in. It feels surreal being here, especially when I remember that my mother had been planning a trip to visit Traci a few weeks before she got sick. A trip she never got to take.
As we’re collecting our bags from the trunk, the front door opens and Traci steps outside. She’s wearing pink nurse’s scrubs and sneakers, her long black hair in a messy pile on top of her head. She walks toward us, her eyes shiny and her arms already lifting for a hug.
“You guys are really here,” she says, her voice breaking on the last word.
I drop my backpack, letting her gather me into her arms. She smells just like my mom used to, like hand sanitizer and hospital antiseptic. For a moment, with her arms a tight band around me, I feel like everything might turn out okay.
She lets me go and moves on to April, who hugs her back without hesitation, even though she was four the last time we saw Traci and probably doesn’t remember her.
“You look just like your mama, you know that?” Traci says as they separate.
April smiles and nods. She does know that.
“And you must be Dane.” Instead of hugging him, Traci clasps his hand between both of hers. “Isobel told me a bit about you on the phone. Thank you for getting her and April here safely.”
Dane, looking tired and dazed from a day of driving, nods politely. “No problem.”
Traci wipes her eyes and looks us over again. “Heath will be so sad he missed you. My husband is a supply technician for the army,” she adds for Dane’s benefit. “He’s overseas right now.”
April shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Oh! Of course.” Traci turns and heads back toward the house, motioning for us to follow. “You guys must be hungry too. I just got off work a half hour ago, or else I would’ve cooked something for dinner. I figure we’ll just order some pizza.” She puts her arm around my shoulders and directs her next sentence to me alone. “And after dinner, we’ll talk.”
I nod. On the phone earlier, I’d just told her the basics. All Traci cared about was that we were safe, and everything else could wait until we got here.
Inside, Traci shows April to the bathroom and then takes out her phone to order the pizza. She wanders down the hallway, leaving Dane and me standing in the warm, tidy kitchen. The house is bigger than it looks from outside, and more modern, with its open floor plan and sleek hardwood floors. I see touches of Traci everywhere—in the row of blooming herbs on the windowsill, in the colorful knitted pillows piled on the sofa in the living room across from us. Traci and I are alike that way—we prefer to keep our hands busy.
Dane’s phone beeps. He slides it out of his pocket, then types for a few seconds. “My mom,” he says. “She wanted to know if we got here okay.”
I think about my dad again, who’s surely gone back to our cabin by now and discovered us missing. My phone’s been on silent since I called Traci hours ago, and I’m afraid to check it.
“You okay?” Dane asks, taking my hand.
I let out a shaky breath. Even though we’re here now, safe, my adrenaline is pumping like we’re still on the run. “I think so. Are you?”
“Yeah. Just tired.” He rubs his eyes and sighs. “It’s been a really long day.”
April comes into the kitchen then, followed closely by Traci, who has exchanged her scrubs for shorts and a T-shirt. She smiles at Dane and me, her gaze flicking from our faces to our still-linked hands. I didn’t tell her that particular detail over the phone, either.
“Pizza will be here in twenty,” she announces without missing a beat. “In the meantime, make yourselves at home.”
* * *
After dinner, I get April set up in the living room with her toys, the Disney channel, and the promise that I’ll be in the kitchen where she can see me. All day, I’ve been trying to pretend everything is normal, but she senses something is up. She clung to me all through dinner and only ate a few bites of cheese pizza, even though it’s her favorite. For now, though, she seems content to cuddle her crocodile and zone out in front of the TV.
Back in the kitchen, Traci is brewing a pot of chai. I recognize the spicy cinnamon scent; she used to make it every evening when she stayed with us after Mom died. When Traci and Heath heard the news, they hopped on a plane and stayed at our house for two weeks. I’m not sure how we would have managed without them there, feeding us and cleaning the house and doing whatever else needed to be done. I’m not sure how Traci managed it either, as sad as she was over losing her best friend.
“Now,” she says, pouring tea into three mugs. She places one in front of each of us and then looks across the table at Dane and me. “Before we do anything else, I think you need to call your father, Isobel.”
I freeze with my hand wrapped around the burning cup. “Not yet. I’m not ready to talk to him.” More like, I’m not ready for the blast of guilt and anger he’s going to fire at me for running away to Traci’s.
“Isobel,” she says, her brown eyes filled with sympathy. “I don’t know what went on between you two, but I do know that punishing him like this isn’t going to solve anything. He’s worried sick about you and April.”
“I didn’t leave to punish him.” Then I wind back what she just said. He’s worried sick. “Wait. You called him?”
She blows on her tea and takes a sip. “Of course I did. I called him right after I hung up with you. I wasn’t comfortable with him not knowing where you guys were headed. He’s your father—he deserves to know where his children are.”
The slice of pizza suddenly feels like a lump of granite in my stomach. I glance over at Dane, who’s giving me the same sympathetic look as Traci. Under the table, I feel his knee press against mine. “Was he…what did he say? Is he mad?”
“He’s worried. He wanted to hop in his car and drive straight here, but I managed to convince him to wait a few hours and get some sleep first. He should be here tomorrow around noon.”
My body fills with dread at the thought of facing him. “I’m not going back to that ranch,” I say, my spine straight against the back of the chair. “You don’t understand, Traci. The people there….”
She folds her arms on the table and leans forward. “Tell me about it, then. Help me understand.”
That’s all the prompting I need. I tell her everything that happened in the past few months, starting with Dad’s descent into prepper mania and ending with April running off to hide in the horse stables. When I’m done, she reaches across the table for my hand, her expression soft and a little bit sad. She gets it now.
“Isobel,” she says, squeezing my fingers. “Why didn’t you tell me what was happening when I called you weeks ago?”
I take a sip of tea, the warmth and spiciness soothing my dry throat. “I didn’t know how bad it was going to get. I thought Dad would listen, that he cared about what I thought, but he doesn’t. I guess that’s why I’m here now. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“He does care about you, sweets, so much that he probably doesn’t think straight sometimes. I wish it hadn’t gotten this bad, but I’m glad you decided to talk to me now. You shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff alone. I promised your mom when she was sick that I’d always be there for her girls, and I meant it.” She lets go of my hand and looks at Dane, who’s mostly been quiet through the entire conversation. “What about you, hon?” she asks him. “How do you feel about all this?”
Dane leans back in his chair. “Actually….” His voice trails off, and he looks at me, unsure.
“What is it?” Traci asks, her gaze bouncing between his face and mine.
Dane starts to say something, then falters, like he’s embarrassed to be asking. Or maybe he’s afraid—of what his parents will say if they find out, or of the idea itself, I’m not sure. But he didn’t drive us all the way here just to go back with nothing. I squeeze his hand, and he takes a deep breath and tries again.
“I want to get vaccinated,” he tells Traci. “Isobel said you might be able to do it.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting this. “You’re not vaccinated? Against anything?”
He shakes his head. “My parents don’t believe in it.”
Traci tries to keep her face neutral and professional, like a nurse is taught to do, but I can tell by the slight thinning of her lips that she has a lot of opinions about anti-vaxxers like Dane’s parents. “Have you told them you want to be vaccinated?”
“Yeah, but they said they won’t give me consent. They think vaccines are toxic and that it’s better to build your immunity naturally.”
Traci clears her throat and takes a long gulp of her tea, which has to be cold by now. “What are you, seventeen?”
Dane nods.
“Well, in some places, you do need parental consent if you’re under eighteen. But you’re what we’d call a ‘mature minor,’ which means you’re mature enough to understand the risks and benefits of vaccinations.” She puts her cup down and meets his eyes. “That means you can give your own consent.”
“But my parents told me I couldn’t,” Dane says, frowning. “Not until I was eighteen.”
“They have the wrong information,” Traci says gently. “Or maybe they’re just giving you the wrong information. I don’t know. The point is, you can make your own decisions when it comes to your health, Dane. Even if your parents disagree.”
Dane stares down at the table for a moment, his jaw twitching and his cheeks flushed red. Then, without looking at either of us, he stands up and leaves the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway before I even have a chance to react. A few seconds later, the sound of the bathroom door closing filters into the kitchen. I look back at Traci, unsure what to do.
“I’m not a parent,” she says, “but I deal with them every day. Even the best ones screw up sometimes, Isobel. They do what they believe is right even when people keep telling them they’re wrong. They think they’re protecting their kids, but all they’re really doing is hurting them instead.”
Like my dad, pinning all his hopes on a survival community to keep his family safe. All he wants is to protect us, but like Dane’s parents—like a lot of parents—he doesn’t seem to realize that what he’s doing is actually hurting more than it’s helping, when it should be the other way around.
I head to the bathroom and knock lightly on the door. It opens immediately, and Dane steps out, avoiding my gaze.
“Are you okay?” I ask, touching his arm.
“Yeah. Sorry I bolted like that. It’s just….” He looks at me, his eyes red-rimmed. “I can’t believe they lied to me. I always thought….” He shakes his head, letting the sentence trail off, but he doesn’t need to say more. I get what it’s like when something you always thought you knew turns out to be dead wrong.
Chapter Twenty-seven
When April and I venture out of the guest room the next morning, we find Traci sitting alone at the table, drinking coffee and looking at her phone. I glance around for Dane, but the bed Traci set up on the couch for him is empty and he’s nowhere to be seen.
“He got up early and went to the doctor,” Traci answers my unasked question. “A friend of mine works at a walk-in clinic in town, so I sent him there. They’ll start his vaccination series no problem. I would’ve brought him into the hospital and done it myself, but he said he needed to take care of this on his own.”
I sit down in the chair across from her and pull April down on my lap. “Thanks, Traci.”
She smiles. “Anytime, sweets.”
By the time April and I eat breakfast and shower, Dane is back from the doctor, looking tired and slightly pale. Traci immediately makes him sit down on the couch and rest.
“Just for an hour,” she tells him when he insists that he feels fine. “To make sure you don’t have any adverse reactions.”
She catches my eye before she leaves the room, taking April with her, and I realize what she’s really doing. She’s giving me a bit of extra time with him before he leaves to go back to his parents.
“Are you really okay?” I ask, sitting beside him on the couch.
“I’m fine,” he says again. “Just sore, that’s all. But I’m glad I did it.”
I run my finger lightly over the Band-Aid on his upper arm. “Me too.”
He leans back against the pile of knitted pillows and takes my hand. “So,” he says, glancing at me, “I guess your dad will be here soon.”
“Yeah,” I say, biting my lip. “He’s probably going to kill me.”
“Well, my moms are probably going kill me too once they find out I’ve been pumped full of vaccines.” He laughs. “Which would kind of defeat the purpose, I guess.”
I lean my head against his shoulder, careful not to press on his sore arm, and laugh with him. We stay like that for a while, not talking, listening to the ticking wall clock above us and Traci’s cheerful voice as she tries to distract April in the kitchen. Each hour felt like days when we were driving here yesterday, but now, sixty minutes feels nowhere near long enough.
“You know,” Dane says, lacing his fingers with mine, “I did a lot of thinking when we were staying at the ranch, and I realized some things about myself that I never really considered before. Like sometimes, I go along with my moms just because it’s easier than going against them. When they told me I couldn’t get immunized without their consent, I just assumed they were telling me the truth, so I let it go. I never thought about going to the doctor and finding out for myself.” He tips his head back against the couch. “You were right before. I am too passive.”
I pull back to look at him. “Seriously? Voluntarily getting jabbed with sharp needles to protect yourself against horrible life-threatening diseases sounds like the opposite of passive to me.”
He blinks and laughs. “I think I was right about you too. You are always this blunt.”
“I’m trying to be.”
Dane’s smile fades. “I’m sorry I won’t be here when your dad gets here.”
I press close to him again. “You have to get back to your moms, huh?” I say into his chest.
“I promised I’d be back before dinner,” he says, wrapping his arm around me.
“It’s okay,” I say. “It’s better that you’re not here when he arrives.” All of this had been my decision, and I didn’t want Dane to get caught in the cross fire.
Traci walks in then, some kind of small gadget in her hand. “Sorry for interrupting. Just wanted to check you over, Dane.”
The gadget turns out to be a digital thermometer, which she points at Dane’s forehead. Seconds later, it beeps out a reading.
“Perfect,” Traci announces. Next, she checks under his Band-Aid for swelling, then feels his pulse. Finally, she tells him he’s good to go. “Keep your vaccine schedule safe and don’t forget to make an appointment with a doctor when it’s time for another dose.”
“I won’t forget,” he says, standing up. “Thanks for everything.”
Traci gives him a quick hug. “Take care of yourself.”
He nods and heads toward April. “Bye, April.”
She flings her arms around his waist. “Bye, Dane.”
My heart lodged somewhere in the back of my throat, I walk with him outside to the Volkswagen. He tosses his bag in the back seat and then turns to me, pulling me against his chest. I wrap my arms around him and press my lips to his, trying to pour all my feelings and gratitude into this one last kiss.
“Thank you for being there for me,” I say, pulling back and resting my chin against his shoulder. “Spending time with you was the only thing that kept me sane these past few weeks. I just…I wish….”
His arms tighten around me. “I know. Me too.” We stand like that for a few moments, neither of us wanting to let go. “We can text,” he says quietly. “And call.”
“Okay,” I say, even though I know it won’t be the same. It won’t be like this ever again.
We let each other go and I step back, watching as he gets into the car. He doesn’t look at me again until his sunglasses are in place and the engine is running.
“Bye, Isobel,” he says through the open window. Then he backs up and drives away.
I stand there on the damp pavement, my chest aching with each breath. Finally, I turn around and go back inside. Traci is in the living room, stripping the bedding off the couch.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says when she sees my wet, puffy face. She drops the blanket she’s folding and comes over to hug me. “That’s a nice young man you have there.”
“I know,” I say, even though as of this moment, I no longer have him at all.
* * *
“Are we going home today, Izzie?”
I look over at April, who’s helping me tidy up Traci’s guest room. “I don’t know,” I say, tossing her crocodile to the foot of the bed so I can tuck in the sheets. “We’ll have to wait until Dad gets here.”
She sighs and flops back on the smooth comforter, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She hasn’t been herself since the night she ran off to the stables. The sooner we get back home to our normal lives, the better.
