Bigger than a Bread Box (15 page)

T
he next morning, Mrs. Cahalen stopped by while she was out walking her dog. “Unofficially” and “off the record” and “just to be helpful” on a Sunday morning. She said she was popping in to say hello because Gran hadn’t been answering her phone, and since the office didn’t have a number for Mom, they hadn’t been able to get in touch at all.

Mrs. Cahalen didn’t just tell them I’d cut school. She stood there in the house and told them everything. She said that Hannah had generously come forward on Friday to “explain about the incident,” because she felt “bad for Becky,” who was having “such a hard time adjusting.” Mrs. Cahalen, being a “good friend,” wanted to check in with Gran—and Mom, naturally. Then, I guess, she took her dog and went home. Really, I don’t care where she went.

I didn’t see Mrs. Cahalen or the dog for myself. I was still sleeping when this all happened, but Mom came in and wrenched me out of bed. She marched me to the kitchen, still groggy and confused. She tossed me into a straight-backed chair and stood above me with tears in her eyes as she repeated everything Mrs. Cahalen had said.

At the end of all that, she said, “We are so disappointed in you, Rebecca. What’s going on? How did this happen?”

At first, I was too asleep to process what she was saying. I just ran my tongue over my fuzzy, unbrushed teeth and tried to look like I was feeling really sorry, which I almost was. Her voice got more and more quivery, and at last she said, “Things are hard enough for me right now, Rebecca. I’m alone, on the edge—the
edge
. Do you understand? I don’t need this. I can’t believe this!” Her voice shook. “I have a lot on my mind right now. I am juggling so much and I am overworked and I just wanted a little time to think things out for myself. Everyone seems to need something from me or want something, and I don’t even know what feels right or wrong anymore, and there are so many people to think about.” She paused for a breath. “I don’t want to have to worry about
you
too! You’re usually so … so fine. Usually you’re the one I don’t have to worry about!”

I looked up at her. I forgot about my teeth. She didn’t want to have to worry about me? I was just one more thing
to deal with? Did she think this was all just happening to her? Did she really think she hadn’t made this mess herself? Had she forgotten all about me and Lew? I wanted to stand up and yell at her, but I reminded myself that “less is more” and tried not to get upset. If I started trying to explain, I’d talk myself into a hole. I’d just look like a big baby.

So I sat on my hands and said, “I
am
fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Mom laughed in a weird, bitter way. “Don’t worry? How am I supposed to manage that? You stole, Rebecca. That is
not
fine!”

I shrugged and bit the inside of my mouth to keep from saying any more.

“Don’t you think you owe me a little more than that?” she asked.

I shrugged again.

“You are infuriating,” said my mom, standing over me. “Talking to you is like talking to a … a wall. How can I help you if you won’t talk to me?” Her voice was cracking again. Her hands were spread out in front of her, and her back was bent over so she could peer down into my face, like someone in a police show on TV.

I looked up into her eyes, but I still didn’t answer her.

“How?” she said again. This time she just sounded defeated. “How. How. How.” She was just repeating the word until it didn’t sound like a question anymore. Then
she seemed to give up and fell into the chair beside mine. She said, “
Please?
Please, help me understand, Rebecca? Can you?” She didn’t sound mad anymore. More tired. “Look … I don’t really care about Hannah’s jacket, but what’s wrong with you? On the inside. Are you okay? I’m worried. And when you don’t talk to me, it’s like … it’s like I’m dealing with your dad all over again!”

I knew she was trying to make me feel bad, but it made me kind of proud. I’d rather be like Dad, if I got to choose. I looked down at my feet on the floor. I didn’t know what there was to say.

Mom took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s start over. You cut school,” she said. Her forehead was all wrinkled, but she seemed to be done yelling at me.

I nodded.

“Honestly, we knew that already. We figured that part out. We were letting it slide.…”

I thought about thanking her, but it didn’t seem like the right time, and anyway, she kept talking.

“But what on earth is this about you stealing a leather jacket? Since when are you a thief? And since when do you care that much about fancy jackets? Is this all a cry for attention? We’re confused.”

I shook my head.

I wanted to know who “we” was. Had she talked to Dad? Did Dad know what I’d done? I felt panicked at the thought.

I stared back at her. A teeny tiny part of me actually wanted to tell her what had happened, as crazy as it all was—about the magic and Becky and the money and everything else. But a bigger part of me didn’t want to tell her anything. I wanted only one thing from my mom. “I don’t … know,” I said. “I just want to go home. I guess that’s all there is. I guess I don’t have anything else to say. I just want to go home.”

Mom stared at me for a long, long time. It was like a standoff. I tried not to blink. I wondered what she was thinking.

When she finally opened her mouth, she said, “Can’t you think about anyone but yourself?”

And that … I couldn’t stand. Sitting there like that with her leaning over me, pelting me with those wrong words. As if
I
were the selfish one. As if
I
were the one doing pretty much whatever I wanted, even if it tore my family apart. As if
I
had made all this happen. I stood up and faced her. That was when I realized suddenly, staring into my mother’s eyes …

I was as tall as she was.

“Can’t
you
?” I asked as calmly as I could.

She might still have been able to make it better then. I would have let her. She could have apologized or hugged me. Right then and there, she could have listened and agreed to go back home. I wanted it all to be okay more than I wanted to win.

But Mom didn’t apologize. Instead, in an angry, grown-up voice, she said, “I am in charge of this family, young lady, and
what I do, I do for you
. I only want what’s best for
you—
”

Hearing those words, I didn’t feel bad anymore. I felt justified. “That’s a lie,” I said. My voice was rising, and I couldn’t help it. “Because what’s best for me is home, and Dad. Anyone could tell you that, even Gran. But you don’t care about that, not at all. You aren’t thinking about me, or Lew. You’re thinking about yourself, and what
you
want and what
you
need.” I spat this last part in her face. I couldn’t believe I was talking to her this way. I meant to keep my cool, stay calm, but I couldn’t. I forgot about “less is more,” and the words just flew from me like fire—and exploded into loud, angry sounds.

“Oh, Rebecca,” said my mom. Then she sat down in the chair, slumping into it, and I was left standing above her.

I had hurt her, but I didn’t care. I was full of being angry now. Once the meanness started, I couldn’t stop it. “So what if I stole a jacket?” I said. “You’re worse than that. You stole
us
!”

“Oh,
Rebecca
,” my mom said again. Now she was going to cry. She reached out her arms to me.

“I’m
not
going back to that place, that school,” I said. “I’m going home. I’ll run away. I’ll take a bus. I’ll live with Dad. I’d rather live with him than with you anyway.”

My mother’s face crumpled. I had gone too far. I could tell. We both had. She wasn’t even crying. She was just sitting there.

“Mom?”

She buried her face in her hands and didn’t move.

Somewhere off in the distance, a police siren wailed. Then it was gone.

“Mom?”

Silence. She just sat there in the kitchen, like she was sleeping in that chair, her face in her hands, swaying a little. It scared me.

“Mom?” I said one more time.

This time my mother stood up and walked past me, grabbed her keys off the counter, and walked back through the house. I heard her open the front door. I heard her march down the steps. Then she was gone.

Slowly I headed back through the house, looking for Gran and Lew, but the house was empty. They’d probably gone out for a walk when Mom and I started yelling. So I went back to the kitchen. Mom had left her phone on the counter when she stormed out. Suddenly I really needed to talk to Dad.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Hi, Dad?” I said with a flutter in my chest.

“Becks!” he said. “Been missing you. You okay? You don’t sound like my girl.”

“I don’t
feel
like your girl,” I said. “I feel … bad.”

“Oh no,” he said. “I wish I could be there. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Or … everything. It’s just … I hate Mom.”

He sighed. “No, monkey. You don’t. I don’t either. We love her like hell.”

“
I
don’t,” I said. “Not anymore. She lies. She says she wants what’s best for us, but she”—I choked—“she doesn’t even care.”

Dad took a second before he said, “She does, Becks. She’s just upset. I know that in the end, she’ll be ready to help me fix this. She’ll make it right.”

Wow
, I thought.
She has him fooled
. He had no idea what was going on. Maybe he was just too far away to know. I guess I took too long thinking about it, because then Dad said, “Hey, Becks? I have to run. Sorry. I know this is a bad time, but I need to go. We’ll talk real soon, okay? And I’ll see you soon too. I promise. I’ll see you
real
soon.”

“Okay,” I said, “I guess—”

The line went dead.

I felt blown out and hollow, like the painted shells on the bottom of the hermit crab cage in the gift shops on the boardwalk. The ones no crab is living in. I walked from room to room, wishing Lew and Gran would come home, but it was just me, alone, all by myself, in a silent house.

I went to my room and stood in front of the bread box.

“Please,” I said. “Please? Please send me something,
anything, that might get me home to Dad. Please help me find a way home.”

I opened the door: another bus ticket. I sighed. I knew now that the bread box couldn’t give me anything to fix my parents, because I hadn’t broken them.

I looked at the ticket, and for a heartbeat I thought I could do that—go home by myself. But it was a long way, too far, and besides, I didn’t think I could ever leave Lew behind.

C
HAPTER 16

T
hat was a lonely day—just me, by myself in that quiet house. Gran and Lew stayed gone, and I missed them. I would have called them to find out where they’d gone, but there was no way to do that, since I’d stolen Gran’s phone. I reminded myself that I needed to return it. Now that Mrs. Cahalen had busted me, there was no reason not to give it back.

I watched hours of television, because I had no idea what else to do with myself. It was boring. I turned on Gran’s computer, but there wasn’t really anything I wanted to do with it. At lunchtime I made myself a turkey sandwich. That was about all there was to the day. No distractions. Plenty of time to feel bad about everything, plenty of time to feel worse.

Finally, around five o’clock, Gran and Lew came home. When I heard them, I went to my room and got Gran’s
phone from its hiding spot under the mattress. I walked into the kitchen and set it on the counter in front of her. There were grocery bags all over the place. It looked like she was going to make tacos for dinner. Lew was on the floor, drawing a picture on a paper bag with crayons.

“I found this,” I said, pushing the phone toward her.

“Found it, huh?” She stared at me very steadily.

I couldn’t lie anymore. “No, I took it,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

Gran seemed to think about that for a minute, while I waited for her to be mad. At last she put the phone in her pocket and said, “Rebecca, I thank you for the truth. In light of the fact that you’re already in deep doo-doo, you can consider this misdemeanor forgotten. Okay?”

I nodded.

“You and your mom get everything sorted out?” she asked.

“No.” I bent down and picked up an orange crayon that had rolled over to my feet. I started to pick the paper off it.

Gran sighed. “That’s too bad.” Then her tone changed, and without missing a beat, she asked, “Hey, how many tacos can you eat?”

“Three. Where’d you go all day?” I asked, watching her stir.

“You know, just some places. Errands. The mall. We walked around the greenhouses at the botanical garden.”

“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t know there was a botanical garden. That sounds fun.”

“It was fun,” she said. “And there are a lot of things you don’t know.” Then she stopped talking, reached for a big knife, and started chopping onions. My eyes began to water.

I sat down on the floor next to Lew. “Hi, you,” I said.

“Hi, Babecka,” he said. “I dwawing a mast.” He didn’t look up from whatever he was drawing on his mask. It looked a little like a mustache and a little like a star. He unfolded the bag and put it over his head. I couldn’t help smiling at him.