Season of Change (10 page)

“We can give you money.”

“Whatever. I know where you live! Pop your gas tank.”

I popped the tank. “I can do it!” I said, reaching for the gas tank.

“No, that’s okay.” He pulled it away. I watched him unscrew the cap and insert the can’s spout into the mouth of the gas tank. He leaned one hand on the trunk as he poured the gas in.

“Hi, Noah!” Stephanie leaned across the driver’s seat and waved. “Thanks for coming!” But she didn’t get out, and I didn’t know whether I was glad or not. I felt so nervous around him now. Did I want to talk to him alone?

“So, what happened?” He fixed his eyes on me and started to laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me! It’s not funny! I forgot to check how much gas I had.”

He laughed again. “Does your grandfather know you have his car?”

“No!”

“So, Diana, you stole your grandfather’s car?”

“I didn’t steal it! I borrowed it! It was an emergency. I had to get Stephanie.”

“So you drove here from the lake house?”

“Yeah.” I took a deep breath, thinking about that cop passing me.

“You could’ve called me to pick her up.”

“I was trying to avoid calling you.”

He looked at me silently. His face was unreadable in the darkness. The trickle of gas stopped, and he put the gas cap back on. Then, “Why?”

“You know why, Noah!”

He nodded. “Okay. Well, so? What do you want to do?” A car passed, and its headlights shone on his face.

I let my shoulders slump. “I don’t know.”

“Want to just chill for a while until we figure things out?”

My heart thudded. “Okay.”

D
iana and Noah were standing beside the car, having this really intense talk. I tried not to stare at them, but I just couldn’t help it. They were facing each other, giving each other the kind of look that you don’t usually give somebody unless there’s something between you. He was still holding the gas can. I couldn’t catch what they were saying. And then they walked away from each other.

Diana came and stood by the driver’s side door. “Okay, well. See ya.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks again for the gas.”

“Yeah.”

She got back in the car and Noah’s Jeep pulled away, the horn beeping once softly. “Okay,” she said, putting on her seatbelt. She started the car. “Back to the lake.”

“So what did y’all say?”

“Nothing.” She checked for traffic and pulled onto the road.

“Seriously, Diana, what did you say?”

She drove for a minute without answering. “We don’t know what we think about … you know …

“Kissing?”

“Yeah. We don’t know what we think about that. I guess we’re going to stop talking for a while.”

“Diana! He likes you! You’re such a chicken!”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m driving. I have to concentrate on getting on the highway.” We went down the access ramp. There wasn’t much traffic.

Diana was afraid to get close to people. She was even afraid of
talking
about being close to people. I hoped Noah wouldn’t give up on her.

We drove in silence for a while. I looked out the window at the Charlotte skyline, with the cluster of lit skyscrapers and the stadium. I thought about Diana’s kiss with Noah today, which had sounded so romantic.

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

“No problem.” She looked straight ahead, driving.

“We’re probably going to get in a lot of trouble.”

“Probably.”

“I always get in trouble when I hang out with you. And this time it’s my own fault.” I laughed a little. I let myself relax back against the car seat. I had been so scared sitting there by the mailbox, waiting for Diana. The voices of the kids at the party had floated up from the porch, and I had wanted to put my hands over my ears.

Why had I gone to that party? I felt so bad. I felt like what happened with Hunter was me getting paid back for disobeying Mama.

“I can’t wait for you to see Star,” Diana was saying. “It was really hard for me to get her to drink from the bottle, but she is crazy for it now. I’ve given her two bottles, and I’ll give her one when we get back. She is so cute! You’ll adore her, I promise you.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see her. I definitely think I’ll like her more than I liked Iggy the iguana.”

“I hope Mom and Norm get to see her.”

The mention of Daddy and Lynn made us both go silent for a minute. We were driving past Davidson, a small town outside Charlotte. The dark lake glittered on either side of the highway.

What would Daddy and Lynn say about me going to the party? I felt my face get hot just thinking about them knowing.

“Don’t tell Daddy and Lynn what happened with Hunter,” I said to Diana.

“I won’t. I did tell Mom that your mom picked you up, though.”

“That’s why Daddy tried to call me.” My face went hot, and I glanced at my phone. “I didn’t answer.” Daddy was going to be really mad about what happened.

“Text him when we get to Grandma and Grandpa’s,” Diana said, glancing away from the road at me. “Just say you’re there.”

We drove past another town, Mooresville. Neon signs for the movie theatre glowed beside the highway.

“What do you think Daddy and Lynn have talked about with Jon and Olivia?”

“Us. They’ve probably told them that you’re an angel and I’m a devil.”

“Oh, come on, Diana!” I started laughing.

“That I’m a big pain in the butt, and they wish they could send me to boarding school or something.”

“Maybe they want to send both of us to boarding school!” I laughed again.

We stopped laughing and went silent as the dark highway wound its way north. Soon we’d reached the exit for Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

Diana drove down the winding back roads and within minutes we were passing the place she’d hit the
deer yesterday. “I swear, when I hit that deer, I never wanted to drive again.”

“And you did it for me. I really … won’t forget that.”

Diana waved her hand at me. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

The woods surrounded us on either side, our headlights lighting a path through the darkness. My mind went to a place I didn’t want it to go: what if Daddy and Lynn came back and decided to split up.

“Listen, Diana, if Daddy and Lynn decide to split up, we’ll still be friends, right?”

Diana didn’t answer right away. It was only a few seconds but it seemed longer. “We just have to make sure they don’t split up. That’s all.”

“How can we do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I remember being at Grammy’s for those weeks when Mama and Daddy were deciding to split up. I thought then that maybe everything had been my fault, and if I had been a more perfect girl that maybe they wouldn’t split up.”

“But now you know that’s not true?”

“In my head I know. Not in my heart.”

“So you think that maybe if we’re more perfect right now we can keep Mom and Norm from splitting up?”

“Maybe. Except I went to that party and everything. I did just the opposite!”

“It’s obvious to me that you’re mad at your mom for leaving this weekend.”

“But what can we do to keep Daddy and Lynn from splitting up?”

We were both silent, trying to think as we traveled the bends of the winding road. About a block from the cottage, Diana turned off the car lights. “Maybe we can sneak in.”

We pulled down the driveway and Diana cut the engine. We sat in the dark driveway for a few seconds, watching the door and listening to the crickets sing. Leaves rustled in a breeze. An owl hooted from a tree nearby.

“Okay, they’re still asleep,” Diana whispered. “We just have to be really quiet going in.” We tried to shut our car doors quietly, and tiptoed across the driveway and up the stairs to the door. Diana slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open an inch at a time. She hung Grandpa’s keys on the hook near the refrigerator.

We stood in the dark kitchen. Suddenly, from the sun porch, a sound.

“Maa!”

“Oh, no!”

As Diana raced to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle, the lamp came on in the family room.

“Diana?” Grandpa’s voice, gravelly with sleep.

“Just feeding Star,” said Diana, popping the bottle into the microwave.

Grandpa, in his pj’s, stepped into the kitchen and blinked at me. “Stephanie? What’s going on here?”

Grandma came out into the family room, tying the belt on her bathrobe. “What in the world?”

Diana and I stood together in the kitchen. My arm was barely touching hers. I almost wanted to take her hand, but I didn’t. My heart felt like it was going to explode in my throat.

“I went to pick up Stephanie,” Diana said boldly.

“I thought she was with her mother!” Grandma exclaimed.

“She met Barry in Asheville,” I said in a small voice.

“She left you?” Grandma cried, looking at me.

A wave of shame swept over me, but I also felt justified for being angry with Mama. Grandma thought what she had done was wrong, too.

“You took our car?” Grandpa said. His angry eyes bored into Diana’s.

“I had to.” There was a tremor in her voice.

The silence in the room was so tense the air seemed to quiver with electricity.

“Without asking permission?” Grandma’s voice was high with disbelief.

“I had to!” Diana said. “Stephanie needed me.”

“She helped me,” I said in a small voice.

“What if something had happened to you, and we didn’t even know you were out? What if you had
wrecked the car? What if you had both gotten injured, or killed?”

“But nothing happened! We’re fine!”

“But if you think about what could have happened, what you did was extremely dangerous,” Grandpa said. “We’re going to have to tell Lynn and Norm about this, and you’re both grounded until they get back tomorrow. I could have gotten up and taken you wherever you needed to go. You deliberately went behind our backs.”

There was silence for a few seconds, while that sank in. Then, outside on the sun porch, Star pressed her nose against the glass of the door. “Maa!”

With a sigh, Diana put the bottle in the microwave and turned it on. While the microwave whirred, we all stood in tense silence. It dinged.

“We’re sorry,” I whispered. “We’re really sorry.”

Grandpa glanced at me, but then returned his gaze to Diana. His eyes looked wounded. “Why wouldn’t you trust us to help you?”

“I don’t know,” Diana said. “Stephanie was at this party, and she didn’t like it there, and she didn’t have a ride home. I thought if I asked you I’d get Stephanie in trouble.”

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” Grandpa said. “For now, get the fawn fed and get to bed.” He and Grandma went back to the bedroom and the door shut firmly.

“They’re really mad,” I whispered to Diana. I was shaking a little.

“Yeah. But I had to do it!”

“I guess you could’ve asked Grandpa to drive.”

“But I didn’t.” Diana headed for the sun porch. “Come on, Stephanie, meet Star.”

Out on the sun porch, I knelt to watch as she held the bottle high and the spotted little fawn turned up her head to drink from it. She was so tiny! I guess I’d always thought fawns were bigger than that. She acted like she was starving, pulling hard on the bottle and making loud smacking noises.

“Wow, look at her drink,” I said. Shyly, I held out my hand to pet her neck. “Ooh, her fur feels good. So soft.”

“I’m pretty sure I hit her mother,” Diana said. “I feel like it’s my responsibility to take care of her.”

“She seems really attached to you.”

Diana seemed pleased. “Yeah, I know.”

We played with Star for a few minutes, but she seemed sleepy after eating and soon she had curled up in Diana’s lap.

“Are you sleeping down here with her?” I asked her.

“Yeah.”

“I will, too. I’ll go upstairs and get our pillows and some blankets.”

I went up to the room with the white wicker furniture and grabbed a pillow and a blanket for each of us.
I stopped in the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was messed up and mascara streaked my cheeks. I met my own eyes.

A memory flashed, of Hunter heading outside, leaving me alone. I never wanted to talk to Daddy or Mama about what had happened tonight. I was too ashamed.

Then my phone dinged. Who would be texting me this late?

It was from Matt! I’d completely forgotten that he was expecting me to come back to Mama’s.

Matt was worried about me? I hadn’t thought he would. My feelings toward him softened.

Then I turned out the light and tiptoed downstairs.

“Here,” I said. Diana and I propped the pillows against the pile of ski vests and spread the blankets over ourselves.

“Maa!” Star snuggled closer to Diana.

I curled under the blanket and fluffed the pillow. Daddy and Lynn would be back for us tomorrow. They’d ask about the party. I would have to tell them why I went. But I didn’t really know.

Daddy would find out that Mama had left me with Matt. He’d be mad. He and Mama would have a fight. Everything would be awful.

“I wish tonight had never happened,” I said to Diana. I wasn’t sure if she was still awake. She lay curled on her side, with Star curled in the space between her knees and chin.

Diana made a “mmmm” sound that she sometimes made when she was falling asleep. Star made a little squeaking sound, breathing in her sleep. I gently stroked her ear with the tips of my fingers. She flicked it.

Outside the sun porch the night creatures buzzed and sang. The dark, mysterious water of the lake was still.

Star sighed and stretched in her sleep. She’d lost her mother, and been lost in the woods with nothing to eat. Now she was in a warm place with bottles to drink, and curled in Diana’s arms.

Diana had saved her.

“Good night,” I said to Diana.

“Good night,” she said.

I
sat in the church pew next to Stephanie. I was wearing one of her stupid sundresses, which was too tight under my arms. Organ music swelled from the front of the church and sunlight poured through the stained glass windows in brilliant reds, greens, and blues.

Grandma and Grandpa sat on the other side of Stephanie.

How had I gotten into this? Even Norm didn’t make me go to church. And I hadn’t even brought any clothes to wear. But here I was. Because we’d been in so much
trouble from last night, when Grandma said we were going, I didn’t think I had any way of getting out of it.

This morning, early, I had walked Star around the back yard, while the grass was still wet with dew, with the ski rope around her neck. She had wobbled along on her chopstick legs, staying close. She was incredibly attached to me.

Breakfast had been very quiet. Grandma had made scrambled eggs with cheese in them. Grandpa looked as though he hadn’t slept well. Stephanie was like a statue, pale and quiet. I knew I’d betrayed Grandma and Grandpa in going to get Stephanie without telling them.

So, now, here I was in church.

I looked around at all the people. Why were we all here? I wasn’t perfect and neither were they, so why were we all here, acting like we were so close to God?

We’d sung some songs whose words had been projected on a large screen in the front of the church. Now the minister, a woman with graying red hair, wearing a dark robe, was getting ready to give her sermon.

My mind floated away to Star. What would the place she was going be like? Would a wild herd of deer accept her into their midst?

“None of us can know the effect or importance of our actions,” said the minister. “None of us can know
what God wants to use us for. Each of us has to do our best, not knowing what kind of impact we will have.”

I stared at Stephanie’s leg, next to mine. I glanced over at her face. She believed in all this stuff.

The minister started telling a story, and I found myself listening. “There was a boy who had been in a fire, was in the hospital, and had been out of school for a while. A teacher asked a volunteer if she would go to the hospital and work with the boy on adjectives and adverbs.”

That sounded horrible. Being in the hospital would be bad enough, without having to work on adjectives and adverbs on top of it!

The minister went on. “The volunteer went to the hospital and was shocked at how terribly burned the boy was. She didn’t think he would survive. What difference do adverbs and adjectives make to this poor boy? she wondered. But she had been asked to work with him, so she did.”

Where was the minister going with this story, anyway? It seemed pointless.

“The next day, when the volunteer went back, one of the nurses asked her what she had said the day before. The boy had made a hundred percent improvement. The doctors believed he was going to die, but he had regained his will to live. The volunteer told the nurse she had just worked on adjectives and adverbs.

“Later, after the boy had made more progress, another nurse asked him, ‘When did you turn the corner?’

“And he said, ‘When that lady came to work with me. I figured they wouldn’t send someone to work on adverbs and adjectives with someone who was going to die.’ ”

The preacher went on with her sermon, but I didn’t listen anymore. I was thinking about that volunteer. She’d just done what she’d been asked to do. Nothing special. No big deal. But she’d ended up saving that kid’s life. And she didn’t even know it.

Huh. Maybe everything we did in our life, every little act, could have a tremendous impact on other living things. In ways that we might not ever know.

I remembered diving into the river while whitewater rafting, and Norm diving after me.

I remembered riding bikes with Cody on the Outer Banks, seeing the foal and her injured mother, and calling the police, and hiding in the dunes while the police came.

I remembered giving Iggy the iguana to the security officer on the cruise ship.

I remembered walking around the hospital floor with Grammy, slowly, talking with her.

I saw Star, coming toward me in the woods. Star, on our sun porch, waiting for her bottle.

I saw Mom, in the car, letting me drive.

I saw Dad, at the Outer Banks, flying with me high over the water.

I saw the disappointed faces of Grandpa and Grandma, this morning, at our quiet breakfast.

And I saw Stephanie, in the passenger seat of the car as I drove last night.

Everything I did mattered. In ways that maybe I would never know.

The minister had finished her sermon. She had her arms high and was blessing the people, saying a prayer.

Stephanie, beside me, wiped her eyes with a tissue.

With that story, something in me had changed.