The Distance Between Us

would be nice. “You can stay with me; that’s fine.”
    As we walk to the parking lot Sean clears his throat. “So Xander Spence, huh? He’s a little too pretty for my taste, but he’s from good stock.”
    “It’s not about your taste, thank goodness,” Vivian chimes in. “He seems like a really nice boy.”
    “We’re not together.”
    “Oh. We just assumed because of last night.”
    “Things happened. It’s fine.” So this is what having grandparents is about? More people to give you dating advice?
    Vivian puts an arm around me. “I didn’t want to say it, but he’s too pretty for my taste, too, honey.”
    My automatic defend-Xander-at-all-cost side comes out and I say, “Once you get to know him he’s . . .” I stop myself. I don’t need to defend Xander anymore.
    Vivian gives my shoulder a squeeze. “It’s been a long twenty-four hours, hasn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
     
    I can tell they think the apartment is small. Especially when Sean opens the hall closet door thinking it’s going to lead into another section of the house and has to stop with a jerk.
    “It’s plenty for the two of us and you know we have the whole doll store downstairs, so when it gets too cramped up here, we have room to spread out.”
    I don’t know her well enough, but it seems as though Vivian feels guilty for the way we live. But I meant what I said: sure our house is small, especially when compared to what others have, but growing up, I never felt deprived. I was always happy. It seems only lately I’ve started seeing everything I didn’t have.
    Vivian insists on shopping and comes home with more food than we’ll be able to eat in a month. She puts herself to work finding a home for everything she bought. Then the dreaded questions start.
    “So you said you’re a senior, right?”
    I nod.
    “So what are you going to study next year?” Sean asks innocently as he reads the label of a can of corn Vivian had bought. It’s obvious he’s avoiding eye contact because what else would be in a can of corn besides corn? Does he somehow know this is a bad subject for me?
    “I’m not—” I start to say, “I’m not sure,” but I can’t. Not because I’m embarrassed to admit it or because I need to help in the store. After discovering all the empty boxes in the back last night, I realize I haven’t been much help at all. My mom has to figure out what the store needs and me hovering is not going to help. I need to move forward. “I’m going to study science. I’m not sure where yet.”
    “What are you going to do with a science degree? Are you interested in medicine?”
    “No, I think crime-scene investigation. But I don’t know yet.”
    “That’s a great field to do undergraduate work in. You can go in so many directions from there. The options are limitless, really.”
    I nod. “Yes, they are.”
    The phone rings and I pick it up quickly, thinking it might be my mom or the doctor. But it’s a man. “Is Susan in?”
    “No. She’s not. Can I leave her a message?”
    “Can you tell her Matthew called?”
    “Matthew. No. I mean, yes, I can, but she’s in the hospital.”
    He lets out a scoffing laugh that catches me off-guard. “Is that her excuse this time?”
    “What?”
    “Listen, tell your mom that if she pays her bills I’ll stop calling her.”
    “Are you a bill collector?”
    Sean looks at me.
    “Have her call me.”
    Sean gestures for me to give him the phone and I do. He walks out the door, shutting it behind him. It is nice to have backup.

Chapter 40

    M y mom grips my hand tightly.
    “The doctor said it’s just standard procedure, Mom. No need to be nervous.”
    “But you haven’t been sarcastic with me all morning. You think this is serious.”
    I laugh. “I’m just too tired to be sarcastic, plus your dad is making me feel so unoriginal.”
    She smiles. “Do you like them?”
    “Yes.” It’s all I can say. Now is not the time to rehash how she shouldn’t have lied to me my whole life. My grandparents are definitely not the monsters she painted them to be. I’ve just barely managed to keep the anger from spilling out.
    “I know,” she says, seeming to read my mind. “I stole them from you. I made the decision for myself, but I had no right to make it for you. I’m so sorry.”
    I squeeze her hand. “We’ll make up the time when you’re all better. So stop playing sick already. If you wanted your parents back you could’ve done something less