Divide (6 page)

Way before schedule.

Holland

Monday mornings suck. It’s a universal truth, and who was I to challenge it? I walked as if dazed, went to all my classes, dealt with the right-on-schedule groveling attack from Leslie, the ever-present complete lack of acknowledgement from Rod, and waited for Cam by the car after school.

I couldn’t stop focusing on the conversation I’d had with Mick yesterday. It wasn’t the actual conversation that had my mind spinning—
that
had been as bland as vanilla pudding—it was the fact that a conversation had been had at all.

Because I hadn’t been able to get off the phone with him.

What was wrong with me?

On top of that, I was floored by the fact that my completely innocent,
bland
conversation could last over two hours. I mean, what was I doing talking to Mick for two hours anyway? And about nothing! I wasn’t supposed to talk to him
at all
, let alone ramble on about nothing for two hours straight, like some dreamy-eyed school girl.

Which I was.

Dammit.

I hadn’t seen Rosemarie, but I was going to strangle her for giving her brother my number without my permission. Cam was also missing in action all day, and I was going to
throttle
him for giving my number to her in the first place.

“There you are!” My brother’s voice boomed through the lot. “You’ve been avoiding me, Holl!”

Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been them who were missing in action today.

I turned around to see Cam and Rosemarie walking to the car, and had to smile at how ridiculous they looked together. My brother was all water polo’d out, wearing our school’s black and gold and representing his team proudly, and Rosemarie was…well, Rosemarie was Rosemarie. Her onyx hair was pulled into half a faux-hawk, and once again, all she lacked were sparkly wings. They were definitely a case of opposites attract.

“I haven’t been avoiding you. I just didn’t see you all day.”

“Really? Huh. So that’s why you left without giving me a ride this morning? That’s why you ate God-knows-where instead of finding me at lunch today?”

“No. I mean, I had studying to do, and needed to stop and get gas, and—”

“Right.” Cam leaned back against the door of the Cabriolet and looked at me sideways, that broad smile of his making my anger difficult to hold on to. “You’re pissed because I gave someone your phone number. Just admit it.”

“No! I’m not. I just…”
I just don’t want to have this conversation in front of the person you gave my number to.
“I guess I just—”

Rosemarie’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. “Oh my God! You’re upset that I gave your number to Mick! I am
so
sorry. I thought you two hit it off. He was talking about you all weekend and I…I mean, to get him to shut up…I’m so sorry. I just…wait a minute. Didn’t you like him?”

“Yeah. I mean, no.
No.
”

He was talking about me all weekend?

“Oh. That sucks. I guess I just thought—”

“You thought right, Rosie. She likes him. Check out that silly expression on her face. She’s still focused on the fact you just said Mick was thinking about her all weekend.” My brother laughed and punched my arm.

“Ouch! Dick! Knock it off. And no, I was absolutely not thinking about that. And I’m sorry, Rosemarie. I’m just not interested in your brother that way. Please don’t encourage him.”

I turned and hopped into the car.
Please don’t encourage him? Who talks like that?

“You can get a ride home with her, right, Cam?”

I didn’t wait for a response. I shut my car door and turned the key in the ignition, quickly pulling out of the parking space without even letting poor Penny warm up.

He talked about me all weekend?

Well, that just wasn’t going to work.

I skipped going home after school and decided to visit my mom instead. Our paths hadn’t crossed much lately, and I missed her. I drove to her work—well, if volunteering at the old folk’s home could be considered
work
. I headed down Crown Valley Parkway and pulled into the lot. Maybe I’d hit the mall after this and get a pretzel or something. I didn’t want to go home and chance the phone ringing.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, as I made my way into the activities hall.

Mom was hunched over a couple of ladies, guiding them in today’s art project. She was the volunteer arts and crafts coordinator, and had been forever. It appeared to be some sort of clay formation-thingy today. Used to be she’d test them all out on me, her makeshift Project Test Dummy, but now that I was older and had an enormous workload of homework and reports, she didn’t subject me to arts and crafts torture anymore.

“Hollie! What a surprise!”

Mom wiped her hands on the clay and paint covered apron that protected her perfectly tailored navy blue slacks and ivory blouse, then came around the table to embrace me. I inhaled the familiar smell of Estee Lauder
Pleasures
and Sebastian hair spray. She’d used both products religiously for as long as I could remember. The combination was
her
smell.

“So, what’s up? Is everything okay? Did you get in a fight with Dad or Cam?”

“No, no, everything’s fine.”

Mom squinted, and I knew she didn’t believe me. Well, I’d never been a very good liar.

“Is this about the boy who called yesterday?”

Though I’d hardly call Mick a
boy
, I didn’t know how to answer. I definitely did not want to talk about it. But then, was that necessarily true? Why had I come here if I didn’t want my mom to pry? I
knew
she’d pry. Might as well get it over with, then, since I’d clearly come here for this reason and this reason only.

“Ugh. Yes. There’s a boy.”

“I knew it! Tell me all about him!”

“What’s this I hear about a boy? My Hollandaise only has eyes for me, don’t you, honey?”

Mr. Greenburg wheeled his chair over to us and reached for my hand, smiling the smile only I could get out of him. His presence always carried a sense of calm, and my shoulders relaxed now that he was near.

Mr. Greenburg was like a Grandpa to me. I’d known him most of my life, or at least as far back as I could remember. He’d been my dad’s associate first—a long time ago, and before I was born—then eventually retired, staying in touch with my family as our designated ‘Grandpa.’ Eventually, he ended up here. I always thought he just wanted to be close to my mom. Secretly, I think she reminded him of the daughter he never had, or something.

“That’s true, Mr. Greenburg. I only have eyes for you.”

“That’s right Hollandaise. You save that dance for me like we discussed, you hear?”

I nodded and let him kiss my hand. He’d been saying the wheelchair was only temporary for the past five or so years. But if he ever did get up, I’d dance with him all night long if that’s what he wanted.

“Oh, Hank, you know Holland is too young for you. Have you spoken with that sweet Mrs. Smith in room seven yet? I think she’d love a little companionship. Don’t you, Hollie?”

I nodded assent, but when Mom’s back was turned, I shook my head at the thought of Mrs. Smith as a prospect for Mr. Greenburg. He scowled at me, following my train of thoughts, so I stuck my tongue out and crossed my eyes, then made a gagging motion, pointing my finger into my open mouth.

“Careful, dear, your face may freeze like that,” he whispered.

We both laughed at the statement—one he’d been telling me since I was a little girl.

“Now, tell me about this boy!” my mom squealed. “What’s he like? Where’d you meet him? Is he from school?”

Oh geez. This was a huge mistake. All eyes were on me. The crafting halted to a standstill.

I had the floor.

“Oh, um…well, you know how Cam and I went to that party Friday night?”

“Yeah, at your friend’s house, right?”

She didn’t need to know I’d actually been at a
ware
house. I wasn’t a
total
liar.

“Yeah, well, it’s her brother.”

“Oh! That’s great! What grade is he in?”

“He’s not.” I cringed.

“He’s a dropout? Holland, you know better than—”

“No, no Mom, he’s not a dropout. He’s already graduated.”

“Oh! That’s no big deal. Where does he go to college?” she asked, as she went back to the table and helped the crafters get back on task.

“Well, he works right now. He’s taking some time off before he goes to school.” I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. “He’s…um…he’s not sure what he wants to do yet.”

I’m
not sure what he wants to do yet
. I added that to the list of things I didn’t really know about him…yet.

“Well, as long as he doesn’t take
too
much time off, Holl. So, do you like him?”

“That’s the problem.”

My mom stopped what she was doing and looked up at me, her face no longer lit up. “Oh honey. You have to move on.” She walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Not everyone is going to hurt you like they did, Hollie. It’s okay to let another guy in, you know?”

“It’s only been four months, Mom. I don’t think I’m even close to ready. It wouldn’t be fair. To him
or
to me. I shouldn’t have even talked to him. This is stupid.”

“No, baby, listen to me. I know it’s only been four months, but I also know
you
. We wouldn’t be talking about this if it were stupid. How does he make you
feel
?”

She put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me back to arm’s length to look at me. I got that heavy feeling in my chest, that thickness in my lungs, and wondered if she could see it inside me. I’d avoided being this close with her, afraid she’d see the difference in my eyes. As she analyzed me, I tried to think of a reason to run out of the room, but nothing came to me. I looked down in order to avoid her eyes, hoping she’d think the uncomfortable topic of conversation made me glance away.

“Honey? How does he make you feel?”

“Good. Important. Like I
exist
again.”

“There you go. You don’t have to commit to marrying this guy, baby, but you
can
give yourself a break. If it feels good to be around him, then let yourself enjoy that. It’s been too long. It’s been too dark for you, Holland. It’s okay to see some light at the end of the tunnel, some reason to feel something.”

I smiled, trying to show her I was listening. Trying to agree with her even a small fraction. Mick did make me feel good. He made me want to talk and open up. He
looked
at me.

And I felt like he actually
saw
me.

“Did you change your eye makeup recently?”

I pulled out of her grasp and grabbed my purse, starting for the door.

“I gotta go, Mom! I should probably get started on my studying. I have a ton of work this week. See you at home soon?”

My mom’s eyes widened for only a slight second before she collected herself and smiled at me. “Sure thing! I think it’s Cam’s night to make dinner, right?”

Oh.
Great. Hamburger Helper again. Cam’s specialty. Actually, it was all Cam could cook.

“Great. See you then. Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, Hollie.”

“See ya, Mr. Greenburg!” I said, as I turned into the lobby. He sat by the door, watching the world go by outside. Wishing he could join in, I imagined.

“Not if I see you first, Hollandaise!”

As I passed him, he grabbed my wrist, and I turned to face him. His grip was tight and slightly painful at first, but when his eyes met mine, he eased up. Leaning forward, his expression suddenly somber, Mr. Greenburg nodded his head toward me, as if he wanted me to duck down for a secret. So I did.

“Tell me about this boy, Hollandaise. What’s his name?”

“Mick,” I answered.

“Mick, what?”

“Stevenson. Mick Stevenson.”

“And his age…how old is he?”

I tilted my head, wondering why Mr. Greenburg cared what Mick’s last name was. Then I chastised myself for being suspicious of a harmless old man I’d known and loved for all of my life. “He’s twenty-two.”

“Do you think this boy—Mick—will be the one, Hollandaise?”

“The one?”

“Yes, you know, the one the story foretold.” He looked around as if checking to see that the coast was clear. “Don’t want Grace to hear this, though I don’t know how your Mama can’t see it for herself…but you know, the one to break the spell.”

Briefly startled, I opened my mouth to question him, then realized he referred to the many stories he’d read to me as a child. He’d had a collection of original hardcover fairytales to rival any library’s. My shoulders dropped as I sighed, and my smile fell. I realized this was just a moment of dementia—confusing fairytales with reality. The coherent vibrancy I knew and loved in Mr. Greenburg was slowly slipping away before my eyes. I’d seen it plenty of times before, having grown up coming to see my mom here, but something about seeing Mr. Greenburg losing his sanity made me feel sadder than when any of the others had slipped into dementia.