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Authors: Tess Oliver

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BOOK: Safe Landing
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****

 “Zilly! Pizza’s here,” Tyler yelled up the stairwell. I was starved and my toe was throbbing. After eight hours of carrying boxes, climbing steep stairs, and trying to figure out where all our stuff went, I felt like shit. Christy sent me hourly messages to let me know what was happening in the old neighborhood as if I had been gone for months, and the moving man called me Bolivia twice and Peru once. I told him he must have been some kind of geographical genius, but my sarcasm went right over his head.

No word at all from Jenny. I tried not to read anything into it. I decided she was trying a
cold turkey
approach to life without Brazil.

When everyone had gone, including the cable man, who Mom had called immediately thinking that TV and computer would make us feel right at home, we’d all stood staring at our sleek, modern furniture looking completely out of place in the dismal, ancient family room or parlor as Mom had called it.

“It will look brighter in here once I clean the windows and hang some curtains,” Mom had said, but she’d sounded unsure.

I hung my favorite black sweater in the stuffy smelling closet, arranged my collection of stuffed animals at the foot of my bed, and limped down the hallway. There were only two faint lights, and they cast stretched, spooky shadows on the walls of the landing. I glanced out the small window at the top of the stairs. The beach looked deserted and uninviting. The black ocean swells looked glossy in the moonlight. I was never too fond of the ocean. It always seemed so bottomless and full of things that could bite off your legs or pull you down to your death. At night, it seemed especially scary.

Tyler and Raymond were already at the table covering their pizza slices with red pepper flakes and Parmesan cheese. Mom was at the counter pouring soda for everyone. The dogs were stretched out behind her on the black and white tile floor, while the cats circled her feet, rubbing their faces against her legs as she filled glasses. The animals were already at home in the new place. Of course, to them, any place was home as long as Mom was there.

I flipped open the pizza box. I was hungry enough to eat cold, greasy, completely fattening pizza.

Mom placed a glass in front of me. “Sorry, there’s no ice yet.” She scooted her chair to the table. “I’ll continue cleaning and unpacking while you’re at school. We should feel pretty settled in by tomorrow. Six weeks is still enough time to make some new friends before school lets out for summer.”

I broke the long string of cheese dangling between my mouth and the slice of pizza I was holding. Mom was staring at me as I chewed. I didn’t say anything but pretended to be very into my food. Just like that,
little miss everything is wonderful
thought I could walk into a new high school of strange faces and sweep up an entire crew of new friends.

“Raymond, can you hook up the computer in my room after dinner?” I asked. I had no intention of getting into a conversation with my mom about how great this new life was going to be.

“If you finish unpacking my clothes, I will. And that includes my underwear and socks,” Raymond said.

“Fine. As long as the underwear is clean.”

This comment made Tyler burst out laughing. Unfortunately, he had a mouthful of soda, and it sprayed over everything.

“Tyler!” Mom said.

“It was her fault,” Tyler complained.

Mom shook her head and wiped up the table with a handful of napkins and a look of satisfaction. “Our first dinner in our new house and it’s just like old times,” she said. Even though she wasn’t looking at me, the words were meant for my ears.

I looked pointedly at the fifth chair at the table, the empty chair. “It’s not like old times at all.”  I folded the rest of the pizza up in my paper plate and limped to the trash to toss it. I knew I wasn’t making this any easier on Mom, but I couldn’t stop myself. She did not have to restart her high school existence.   

Plunking down on the couch in the family room, I fished the phone out of my pocket and pressed two. I suddenly had an urge to talk to Dad.

“Hey Zilly, what’s up? Everyone alright?”

“Except for almost losing my toe, we all survived the move, physically at least.”

“What happened to your toe?” Dad asked. The sound of mumbling voices and dishes clanking flowed through the phone.

“Nothing. Thanks to the little piece of skin that is holding it on, I still have all ten.”

“Zilly, what’s wrong?” The fact that he had to ask was beyond annoying.

“Everything is great, Dad. Where are you? A restaurant?’

“I’m at dinner.” There was a pause. “Cynthia and I just sat down for a bite to eat.”

He always tried to make everything he did with Cynthia sound casual, like it was no big deal that he was dating someone other than Mom.

“Cynthia says hello,” he said.

I didn’t return the hello. I considered telling him to let her know that Nickelodeon was having a cartoon marathon over Memorial Day, but I held my tongue.

“The house is really old,” I said. “One good storm and we’ll be floating in the ocean.”

“You don’t need to worry, Sweetie. Those old houses are built much better than the new ones. Another bottle of Chablis, please,” he said. “Listen, Brazil, about next weekend, I can’t take you car shopping like I promised.”

It was to be expected, after all the day was a solid two. “Why not?”

“Something’s come up. But we’ll definitely go before the end of the month.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t be mad, Zilly. I’ll call you tomorrow. Our food’s here.”

“Enjoy.”

“Brazil,” he said one last time, “go easy on your mom. This was not all her fault.” He spoke quietly into the phone, most likely to spare Cynthia from hearing about the crap from his former life. 

“Bye, Dad. Safe landing.” It was something Mom and I always said to him when he was leaving the house for work. I snapped shut my phone, dropped it on the coffee table, and made a mental note never to call him on a day that was a solid two.

Raymond hovered over me with a big box. “My underwear awaits.” He dropped it onto the couch next to me.

 

Chapter 3

The boys’ room was big and airy. I liked it better than my room, but the closet space was a joke. I filled their oak dresser with their clothes all the while playing the shitty conversation with Dad in my head.
Go easy on Mom
. I had many comebacks for that admonition, but I’d kept my lips zipped. My mouth was notorious for getting me in trouble, but tonight I’d decided to keep it shut. I didn’t have the energy to argue with Dad or anyone for that matter. In fact, diving under my quilt and burying my head in my pillow seemed like the only thing that could relieve the misery of the day.

“It’s up and running,” Raymond announced proudly from the doorway. He was becoming quite the computer nerd.

I tossed the last ball of socks in the top drawer and slid it shut. “Thanks.” I pushed past both of them.

Brandy, a girl I used to hang with at the barn, was online. I typed.




Unfortunately, Siesta was always lame. Poor guy needed to retire.


I wrote back. She was also a sore loser. I can’t count the number of times she shot murderous glares at me while we circled the arena.

Brandy’s message popped up over Blake’s, which I was ignoring.



I typed back.

Bridgett was a good rider only because she always had great trainers and awesome horses. But she picked at the horse’s mouth constantly.

Brandy wrote.

Her last message landed like a rock in my stomach. Carrington was another friend I’d left behind. He was an awesome horse who somehow always sensed when I was having a tough day. And now I’d betrayed him by leaving him with an awful new owner.

Blake’s annoying message of popped up again. I signed off. I didn’t have much to say to him and his conversations usually didn’t go much further than hey and what’s up. I suddenly remembered the strange conversation I’d had with Christy in the morning and headed to Facebook. Jenny had been acting weird lately, and I had decided it was because I was moving.

Boy, I was way the hell off base. My closest and dearest friend had posted some new pictures, and the first one was a picture of her with her arms around my ex-boyfriend. I stared at the picture in disbelief, and then decided to leave her a nice, little comment.

“Isn’t that special? I guess you’re such a moron, you thought since I didn’t live in Boston anymore I wouldn’t be able to see Facebook. Surprise! That’s why they call it the World Wide
Web. Traitor!”

I closed the screen and slumped back in my chair trying to decide if I was more fuming or hurt. I had broken up with Blake and Jenny, of all people, knew my feelings didn’t run too deep for the guy, but there had to be some unspoken rule about not latching on to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend.  But the worst offense was the fact that she didn’t tell me first. Posting the pictures was the coward’s way out.

A burst of air blew across my face. It brought with it a scent that reminded me of my grandma’s almond breakfast buns. The old windows obviously didn’t have any weather stripping, which explained the breeze but not the odor. I went back to my brooding rage.

My intuition had told me something was up with Jenny for the last week. I thought she was just upset about me moving. That’ll teach me to think so highly of myself. Apparently she couldn’t wait for me to go. Jenny and I had been best friends since third grade. We used to trade off sleeping at each other’s houses every Friday night. We’d stay up half the night painting our nails, gossiping about boys, and eating raw chunks of slice and bake cookie dough. While we had our differences and spent at least several weeks a year not talking to one another, we were still each other’s closest friend. Like me, she only had brothers, but her parents were still together. Her life was still normal. Only now, she had lost her best friend forever.

The sound of footsteps and dog toenails clicking on the hardwood floor alerted me to Mom’s arrival. She poked her head in. “I want to take a look at that toe, Brazil. We may need to take you to a doctor.” She looked at my face. “What’s wrong?”

That was all I needed. Tears flowed down my cheeks before she got the word
wrong
out. “Nothing much. Someone other than me is winning ribbons on my horse, and someone other than me is kissing my boyfriend,” I sobbed. “And now I am living in a termite infested tomb. Otherwise, things are great.”

She walked over and pressed my head against her stomach. “You haven’t wanted to show for a year, and I thought you broke up with Blake.”

“I did and Jenny swooped in immediately.”

“Jenny? That surprises me.”

I pulled my head away from her and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I should have seen it coming. I left her a nasty comment on her Facebook page.”

“What about Blake?”

“What about him?”

“Did you leave him a nasty message as well?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I shook my head.

“That’s because you cared more about Jenny. Let’s face it, Blake didn’t mean that much to you. I think, in time, you’ll forgive her. After all, you two have been friends a long time.”

Once again Mom’s sunshiney, all-will-be-well philosophy was expected to make everything instantly better. She knelt down next to my gauze-covered foot. Darcy put a long nose on her shoulder and dropped something out of his mouth. It was my phone.

I reached for it. “Damn it, Darcy. Is nothing safe?” It was covered with slobber and the screen was cracked. “My life sucks!”

“I’ll buy you a new one as soon I can,” Mom said quickly. Lizzie began sniffing at the bloodstained cotton.  

Mom pushed her back. She unwrapped it slowly and turned my foot to the side. “Does it still hurt a lot? Your dad called to ask me about the toe that was dangling from a piece of skin.”

“I guess I over exaggerated.”

“I don’t think it will need stitches but keep a clean sock on it.” She placed her hand on my thigh and pushed herself off the floor. “He told me he’s not coming out to get you this weekend.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure he’s got to work.”

“I’m sure,” Mom said in a patronizing tone that made me want to spit fire.

“I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.” It was my subtle hint for her to leave, and being a mom, she caught my meaning immediately.

“We’ll get through this, Zilly, I promise.” Her voice sounded shaky. She kissed me on the head, gathered up the first aide supplies, and closed the door behind her.

BOOK: Safe Landing
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