I force a smile. "Alright, I'll think about it."
My father bailed out when I was six and we haven't heard from him since. My mom went looking for him right after he left, but she came back telling me she couldn't find him. I've always wondered if she did find him, but didn't want to tell me the truth.
My mom leaves the house and I relax on the couch with my feet kicked up on the table as I wait around for Ethan to show up. I'm surfing through the channels when the home phone rings.
"Hello."
"Umm... is this Micha?" A voice responds.
"Yeah... why? Who's this?"
A long pause fills the connection and I think I've lost the weirdo.
"Are you there?" I ask, getting annoyed.
"Yeah." He clears his throat. "This is your father."
I nearly drop the damn phone.
"Micha, this is you, isn't it?" He sounds old and formal and it pisses me off.
"Yeah it's me," I say through gritted teeth.
"I know your mother was going to have you call me, but there is something I need to talk to you about," he says. "And it can't wait."
I consider his request. "I've been waiting almost fourteen years to talk to you. I think you can wait a little bit longer." Then I slam the phone down and punch the wall.
The sheetrock crumbles to the counter top and the hook holding the keys crashes to the floor.
"Fuck!" I collapse to the ground, hoping no one walks in and sees me falling apart.
Especially Ella.
Chapter 10
Ella
I can remember the first time I wanted to kiss Micha as clearly as the day I found my mother dead. Both times were equally as terrifying, but in two different ways.
Micha and I had been sitting on the hood of his car at our secret spot tucked away in the trees, staring out at the lake. It was harder than hell to get back to the spot, but the view and serenity made it worth it.
It had been quiet between the two of us for a while, which was normal except for the jealousy stirring inside me over Micha's latest hook up, Cassandra. I'd never felt this way before and it puzzled me. It wasn't like the girl was anything special to Micha, but he'd told Ethan that she had the potential to be girlfriend material and it was bugging me.
Micha's arms were tucked under his head and his eyes were shut as the sunlight beamed down on him. His shirt had ridden up and I could see his tattoo peeking out. As I stared at it the urge to run my fingers along it drove me crazy.
"I don't like Cassandra," I abruptly sputtered out, sitting up quickly.
Micha's eyebrows knitted as his eyes gradually opened against the sunlight. "Huh?"
"That Cassandra girl you were talking about the other day," I said, staring out at the water rippling in the gentle breeze. "I don't think you should date her."
He rose up on his elbows. "Because you don't like her?"
"No..." I tucked strands of my auburn hair out of my eyes. "I just don't want you to date her."
The wind filled the silence. Micha sat up and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
"Okay, I won't," he said as if it was as simple as breathing.
I pressed back a smile, not fully understanding why the hell I was so happy. Micha lay back down and drew me with him. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heart beating, steady as a rock, unlike mine which was dancing inside my chest.
The longer I stayed in his arms, the more content I became. I felt safe, like nothing could hurt me, but I was in complete denial that I was starting to fall in love with my best friend.
***
It's been a week since the car racing incident and I've been hiding out in my bedroom living on mac n' cheese and Diet Dr. Pepper. Dean still hasn't headed home, but Lila did the morning after the race. She wanted to stay, but I didn't want her to and I think her dad wasn't too keen on the idea either.
It's been kind of lonely, though.
I still haven't listened to Micha's voicemail, and the constant flashing on the screen torments me. I decide to take a break from the house today and do something I've been meaning to do for a while. I want to sketch my mother's grave because I won't always be close enough to visit it. It's been bothering me the entire eight months that I've been gone. I feel guilty because it was me who put her there and then I just left her.
I collect my sketch book and pencils from the drawer of my night stand, slip on my shoes and sunglasses, and head out the front door where I'm less likely to run into Micha. It's a warm day and the blue sky glitters with sunshine. I walk up the sidewalk toward Cherry Hill and decide to make a last minute stop at Grady's.
I knock on the trailer door and Amy, the nurse, answers it wearing blue scrubs. "Oh, hi Ella, I don't think Grady's up for any visitors today, sweetie."
"But he told me to stop by," I say stupidly. "I know it's a little later than I told him and I'm sorry."
"He's not mad at you, Ella," she says kindly. "I've just got him hooked up on oxygen and he's got a cough."
I shield my eyes from the sun and stare up at her. "Is he okay?"
She sighs, leaning against the doorframe. "He's just having a rough day today, but try back in a few days, okay hun."
I nod and back down the steps as she shuts the door. I stare helplessly at the back window which leads to Grady's room. He's sick and there's nothing I can do. I have no control over this. Micha was right. I can't control everything.
As horrid images of my mom's death flash through my mind, I run into the field and throw up.
***
The town's cemetery is located up on Cherry Hill, which on foot is quite a hike, but I enjoy the break from the reality of life. There is no one up there - there hardly ever is. I push through the gate and situate by a tree right in front of my mom's headstone. It's a small cemetery bordered by trees and the grass is covered with dry leaves.
As I sketch the lines of the fence and the vines that coil it, I angle downward and draw the curve of her tombstone. I become lost in the movements, adding wings to the side of it, because she was always so fascinated with flying.
A few weeks before her death, my mother begged me to go on a walk with her. I gave in even though I had plans that day. It was sunny and the air smelled like cut grass. It felt like nothing could go wrong.
She wanted to go to the bridge so we walked all the way across town to the lake. When we arrived there, she climbed on the railing and spread her hands out to balance as her long auburn hair flapped in the wind.
"Mom, what are you doing?" I said, reaching for the back of her shirt to pull her down.
She sidestepped down the railing out of my reach and stared at the water below. "Ella May, I think I can fly."