Lies My Girlfriend Told Me Part 21

"Schlepping around town," she says.

I help her unload the groceries and put them away.

"I bought all this food, and now I don't feel like cooking," Mom says. "Want to go out or have something delivered?"

The sandwich only whetted my appet.i.te. "Definitely," I say. "Let's go out."

She sits at the condo's dinette and opens a folder with a bunch of menus in it for all the restaurants in town. "It's nice to see you happy again," Mom says. "We've been worried about you, you know."

I don't meet her eyes. "What did you expect?"

"I'm not talking about Swanee dying. Of course you'd be upset about that, but every day you were with her, you were... drifting."

Drifting. What does she mean? I guess I know. How Swanee was trying to make me into someone I wasn't. Manipulating me. Making me feel inadequate, the way Liana said. Not only that, but pulling me away from my parents.

They do need to realize that at some point they'll have to let me go, and vice versa.

"Haven't you ever felt like you've made sacrifices for Dad?" I ask. "Done things you didn't really want to do?"

Mom seems to consider the question. "I suppose I've adapted. We both have. But we've never asked each other to sacrifice who we are as individuals. And if we really had a moral objection to something the other wanted, we would've talked it out and compromised. We've given, not taken away. We've grown stronger together."

The same way I'm beginning to feel about Liana. When she's not with me, a part of me is missing.

"What about Chipotle?" Mom says. "There's one right down the street."

Chipotle. I have to smile. "Mucho bueno."

After lunch and two more hours of boarding, I'm totally wiped. We all go out for a nice meal at an Italian bistro and I almost fall asleep at the table. When we get back to the condo, I tell Mom and Dad I'm going to bed.

Snuggling under the covers, I fluff up two pillows and log on to my laptop. Before I Skype Liana, I should text her to see if this is a good time. My cell's in the kitchen, still charging, so I have to get out of bed to retrieve it. Mom, Dad, and Ethan are in the living room with the lights off and soft music playing.

"Sorry." I unplug my cell. "Forgot this."

"Who are you calling?" Mom asks.

"Um, a friend."

"Do you have to?"

"I'll be quiet. Promise." I don't wait for Mom's response.

In my room I text Liana: Can you Skype now?

She doesn't text back. I sit with my laptop until the screensaver kicks in. I must doze off because the Skype sound on my computer jolts me awake.

It's her, Skyping. I press Accept.

"Are you there, Alix?" she asks. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah. Let me just..." Her face comes into view and my heart jumps.

"I can't see you," she says. "Let me check my video...." After a second, my face appears on the monitor.

"There." She smiles. "We're connected."

We are, I think. In more ways than one.

"Tell me about your day," she says. "Minute by minute."

"The snow was perfect, and it was warm. Lots of people, though."

It's almost as if she's here with me. Except I can't touch her, or smell her, or feel her body heat.

A knock sounds on the door. Mom sticks her head in and says, "We're going to bed."

"Okay."

Liana says, "Who's that?"

s.h.i.+t. "My mom."

Mom glances at the computer. "Who are you talking to?"

"Liana," I tell her.

"Let me say h.e.l.lo to your mom," Liana says. I make a face at her, and she reciprocates.

I turn the laptop toward Mom. She perches on the bed and I adjust the monitor until Mom's face is in the video section.

"Hi," Liana says. "I just wanted to tell you I think Ethan is the cutest baby in the world. Aside from my nephew, because I can't be prejudiced." She grins.

"Thank you." Mom blinks at me, and then looks back to Liana. "When did you see Ethan?"

"That time you and your husband were out of town-" Liana stops. She must realize I never told Mom I had company, or she sees something in Mom's face, because she adds hastily, "I just stopped by for a little while to visit Alix. I didn't even know Ethan would be there."

Mom's lips draw taut.

Liana says, "I better get to my homework. I'll talk to you later, Alix." By the time I swivel the laptop back around, Liana's hung up the Skype phone.

I expect Mom to lay into me for letting strangers in the house, especially when she and Dad aren't there and it's only Ethan and me, but all she does is say, "Your dad was right. She's pretty. Does she go to Arvada?"

"No." That's as much as I'm willing to give up for now.

"Invite her over when we get back-"

"Her break starts that day, and she's leaving for a dig with her dad and some archeology students." I shut the lid on my laptop. "But I will."

A gleam infuses Mom's eyes.

"What?" I say.

"Nothing." She bends down and kisses my forehead. "See you in the morning."

Chapter 21.

The day I get home Liana doesn't text or Skype, so I figure she's on her way to Walden. I leave her a voice mail to call or text as soon as she can.

On Tuesday morning she texts me right after my alarm goes off.

Can you Skype? I only have a few minutes until Dad comes back to get me G.o.d, I have bed head and my teeth feel fuzzy. We link up and, naturally, she looks like she just stepped off the pages of Elle. "Where's your dad?" I ask.

"Scouting the location. It's pretty desolate here. Nothing like Peru. But on the way up, we saw three moose. Hang on. I'll send you a picture."

When it arrives, I marvel at how enormous they are. I've seen lots of elk, but never a moose.

"Dad splurged on the lodging, so we're staying at the Hoover Roundup Motel. Yee-haw. I have to share a room, so there's not much privacy."

All I can do is look at her and project myself across the miles.

She says, "Wish you were here," at the same time I say, "Wish I was there." We laugh.

We talk for a while until Mom calls up the stairs, "Alix, you're going to be late."

Liana says, "I don't know if I'll be able to Skype every day, but I'll try to get some time away from the group in the morning or at night to call you. Okay?"

I'll take every precious moment.

We linger, like we want to say something else to each other. Liana puts two fingers to her lips and sends me a cyber kiss before the Skype call ends.

On my way out the door, Mom hands me a bunch of brochures. "For Joss," she says. "Of course, you can read them, too. I hope you know your dad and I are always here to talk to."

I glance at the t.i.tles: "The Five Stages of Grief," "How to Handle the Death of a Family Member," "Dealing with the Loss of a Loved One." I think I've dealt pretty well, thanks to Liana.

Joss is waiting for me at my locker before lunch. s.h.i.+t. I forgot to pick up the pictures. Liana's on the phone, saying, "The week I come back I either have to cheer or work every day, but I have an invitational in Denver on Sat.u.r.day. It should be over by five."

I hold up a finger to Joss. "I'm coming for sure," I tell Liana. "Where is it?"

"Jeffco. We could go to dinner afterward. Then maybe get a room?"

My heart thumps in my chest. Is she...?

"Kidding."

I don't know if I feel relieved or b.u.mmed. If she was serious, there wouldn't be anything holding me back.

While I'm twisting my combination lock, Liana says, "I'm counting down the days."

I say, "I'm counting down the seconds. Tick, tick, tick..."

She laughs.

I love how her laugh stimulates all my senses.

Joss is staring daggers at me, so I say, "Can I call you back?"

"I need to get out to the dig, anyway. Talk to you soon."

We disconnect.

Joss says, "Who was that?"

"Just a friend. Your prints should be ready. I'll stop by after school and pick them up. Okay?"

"Swan's ashes aren't even cold," Joss says stonily.

She must've cued in on the tone of my voice when I said "a friend." Or maybe the whole conversation gave us away.

"I brought these, in case they might help." I fish through my pack for the brochures Mom gave me.

Joss skims the t.i.tles and says, "Do they say, 'Replace a dead person with someone new as soon as possible'?"

She has this knack for making me feel guilty and diminished. The way Swanee did.

Joss throws the brochures practically in my face and stalks off.

When I drive up to my house, Joss is sitting on the porch stoop. To apologize? Hard to imagine, but anything's possible.

She follows the Prius into the garage. I'm not even out of the car before she says, "Did you get them?"

The pictures. "Yeah."

She holds out her hand. I shut the door and pa.s.s her the package. It's a thick envelope and Joss asks, "Do you want to look through them with me?"

If I say no, will that sound cold? If I say yes... I close my eyes and this unexpected veil of sorrow drops over me. Will I ever get over her?

Joss isn't even wearing a coat, and she has on that skimpy skirt with no leggings. "Let's go inside," I tell her. "I'll make us some hot chocolate."

She just stands there with a blank expression on her face.

I'm not going to wait for an answer because I'm freezing.