Random

Chapter TWENTY-TWO

I hit send and fall back on the pillows, feeling winded.

Maybe it's running away. Maybe it's just another way for me to duck out of my life and not deal with it. But, honestly, I'm tired. Tired to the heart of me. So tired I almost wouldn't mind dying.

My iPad dings.

I'll buy a ticket today. Tell me when you want to come.

And that's how my life changes for real.

It isn't random at all.

* * *

Everything moves with even more speed than it has been lately. Henry, as always, is a big help. He lets me pack all my stuff and bring it to his house and put it back in my old bedroom, joking that he'll never even know the difference. He's also the one who digs out my old New Zealand passport and all my papers, stuffed with a bunch of my mom's things in a closet. There's a whole box of things I've never seen: a photo album and letters from people I don't know, and letters from my other dad. I can't stand to dig into it right now when I'm feeling so raw and ask him to put it in my bedroom with everything else.

It's kind of a headache to get the passport stuff done, but because I'm a New Zealand citizen-who knew?-and my dad is very eager to get me there, I have a new passport in three days. I also have a round trip ticket with an open ended return. I leave on Monday.

Virginia's funeral is quiet, only me and a few other people there. Her boys are crying and crying on their dad's shoulder, but he seems like a good guy. I introduce myself to him, tell him I'm sorry and that we were working together the day the car came through the restaurant. He nods, but really, he has no idea who I am.

Neither Tyler nor Rick has called or tried to message me through Facebook. I guess Rick finally got the message, and I'm relieved to finally get around to blocking him.

I don't block Tyler. I can tell he's out of jail because sometimes I see the little green dot beside his name on Facebook and I know he's there. I'm still furious with him for keeping such a huge secret from me, but I guess he's furious with me, too. It was my fault his house of cards came down on his head, actually. Directly my fault. If I hadn't called 911, Rick would have gone to the emergency room and Tyler would have served out the last two months of his parole without incident.

But I did call.

On Sunday I take my uniforms back to the Musical Spoon, clean and tidy. Sam told me he'd give me a check for the three days I worked, which means I won't be totally broke when I fly across the world to see the dad I hardly know.

It's quiet when I come in through the open back door. I half expect Tyler, but of course he's not there. Sam spies me and waves me toward the windowless office where he's working on a computer. From a desk drawer he pulls an envelope and then reaches for the neatly folded uniforms. "Sorry it all worked out like this," he says.

"No, I get it." I shrug. "I'm sorry I ended up causing so much trouble."

"Did you know?" he asks. "About Tyler?"

"No. I'm still not completely clear on what happened. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who kills someone."

"He's not," Lena says from behind me. "It was his sister's ex-boyfriend back in Aspen."

I look at her, and against my will tears fill my throat.

"I know," she says. "It's a bad story."

I bow my head, feeling worse than ever.

"It's not your fault," she says. "That's one fucked up family. I'd stay away if I were you." She turns on her heel and leaves me standing there feeling demolished. Because, you know, I wouldn't want to just feel okay for one single day.