Sia (17 page)

Dad fidgets with his watch. He’s nervous. So much depends on how well the center is treating Mom and how she’s getting along.

I grab his hand and squeeze it. “It’s going to be fine,” I say.

“
You’re really a big support, Sia,” he says. “Thank you for being here.”

“
She’ll do well, Dad. She’s a fighter.”

He chuckles. “Well, she’s stubborn, that’s for sure.”

Mom walks out from behind a set of swinging doors. She’s dressed like I’ve never seen her before: in a loose black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats. Her hair is straight and long, the ends curled just slightly at the bottom, and she has no makeup on.

Dad is on his feet and walking toward her before she’s even gotten all the way through the doors. His arms reach out. “Hey, you.” He looks unsure, but she puts him at ease by curling into his embrace. I watch him close his eyes and smile into her soft blonde hair. “You've never looked better.”

“
Ha!” she says, pulling slightly away. Her eyes smile and shine with clarity. “You smooth talker. I look like I need a day at the spa.”

He’s gentle. “No, hon. This is all you need.”

From their expressions, I’m pretty sure they’ve both forgotten they aren’t alone. Dad leans down and kisses her. It’s like watching a romantic movie. All that’s missing is a swell of orchestral music to carry them along.

“
I’m so glad to see you,” she finally says, then blushes, realizing I’m watching. “Sia, sweetheart. I’m so glad you’re here. Now
there’s
a beautiful girl.”

“
Just like her mom,” Dad assures us both.

“
All right,” she says. “Well, come on into the visitor room and I’ll tell you what’s been going on.” She is happy, it turns out. Mom admits that coming to the center was the best possible thing she could have done. “I really think it’s helping. I mean, it only works if the person is willing to change, and I . . . well, it took me a day or so, I admit. I didn’t want anyone preaching to me or trying to fix me, you know? It’s hard to give in like that. I really wanted to believe—and to have everyone else believe—that I didn’t have a problem.” She takes a deep breath, then grips Dad’s hand. “But I
do
have a problem,” she says, looking into his eyes, “and you and Sia helped me see that. And with the help of these professionals here, I feel I have a chance at beating this.”

“
Really, Mom?” I ask.

She gives a small nod. “It’s going to take time, though. I’ll need you both to be patient with me.”

“
Of course,” Dad says. “We’ll do whatever it takes.”

I nod, too. “Of course we will. We love you, Mom.”

A tan, middle-aged man joins us in the room. He smiles at Mom, then holds out a hand to me and Dad.

“
I’m Jeff,” he says. “One of Janet’s counselors.”

“
This is Sia and Raymond,” Mom tells him. For the first time, she looks slightly nervous. “Shall we get started then?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

After a very quick hour Jeff stands, and we all rise with him. He has delved deeply, asking questions that made us all think about ourselves, our relationships, and what we want to accomplish in the future. I feel slightly drained after such an intense conversation, and I have a whole new respect for my mother for going through all these kinds of sessions all week. She is determined to confront the dark parts of herself.

“
I think that went exceptionally well,” Jeff says. “Some great healing and renewing. I have a positive feeling about this family. I can tell you are very supportive of each other. I’m confident that in a few days, Janet will be able to return home to live her new, substance-free life.”

“
Not today, huh?” I ask, disappointed.

Jeff smiles but shakes his head. He picks up the lemonade pitcher and refills our glasses, letting ice cubes clunk into the drinks. “It’s only been a week, Sia. This problem has been going on for quite some time. Your mother can’t beat it overnight.”

“
Of course,” Dad says, watching Mom fondly. “We know that. We just miss her.”

“
We all understand that, don’t we, Janet?” Jeff says.

Mom nods. She looks a little sad, but I know she’s okay. “It’s not for too much longer, I feel the fogginess disappearing. I’m feeling . . . more like me.”

“
All right, that’s our goal,” Jeff says. “Well, thank you for coming today. Janet did really well this week. She’ll be able to start communicating with you over the phone now. After that, we’ll work out future family counseling sessions. We find they’re very useful even after the client has gone home. I’ll leave you all here to talk amongst yourselves, but keep in mind that Janet will be needed in the general meeting room in ten minutes.”

Dad extends his hand. “Okay. Thank you, Jeff.”

Everyone shakes hands.

After Jeff leaves, Mom lets out a long sigh.

“
You tired, Mom?” I say.

“
No, not really. I’m just relieved that—”

The lemonade in my hand starts to jingle. The ice cubes rattle against each other all on their own, getting louder. The same is happening in my mom’s glass. I look at Dad, then at his glass as it falls from the table and smashes onto the floor. The entire room jolts and we struggle to stay on our feet.

I frown. “What the . . . ”

“
Earthquake!” Dad yells.

“
Run!” Mom screams, grabbing my arm.

Dad stops us. “No! Wait! Everybody down! Get under that table and cover your heads.”

Mom and I act without question, diving under the large table. We grab onto the legs when Dad tells us to. He manages to squeeze in under a smaller table. Picture frames crash off the walls around us and knick knacks tumble to the floor.

Mom screams in panic every time something falls. “Oh my God, Raymond!” she yells.

“
It’s okay, girls. Just hang on. It’ll be over soon.”

But the rocking goes on for what feels like forever. Books dance off shelves. The crystal chandelier swings and chimes wildly over our heads. When everything finally slows, we all look up, not trusting the stillness of the room. The crashing noises and screams from before are immediately replaced by the wailing of hundreds of car and house alarms.

“
Okay,” Dad says. “Get up carefully. But be ready in case it starts again.”

Fortunately, the earth seems satisfied with what it has done. Everything returns to normal. People bustle around in the hallway outside our room, cleaning up and talking excitedly.

“
You okay?” Dad asks. We nod, and he smiles. “Well, that’s what I call an earth-moving session,” he says wryly.

“
Not funny,” Mom says.

Jeff blusters in, the dark curls of his hair dusted by white. “Everyone okay?” We assure him we’re fine. He glances around. “Looks like this room is going to need a little attention.”

“
How’s the rest of the place?” Dad asks. “Everybody okay?”

“
It’s fine. Just cosmetic.”

“
That was a big one,” Dad says.

Jeff nods. “The radio announcement said it was just an aftershock.”

“
Aftershock? From what?” I ask.

“
You know, the major earthquake that hit San Francisco this morning.”

I stare at him. “We didn’t hear anything about that.”

“
No? It was all over the news this morning. Major damage and loads of people left homeless.”

Dad clears his throat. “We didn’t listen to the news, Sia. Remember? We were too busy talking.”

“
Oh. Right. Well, I hope everyone’s okay.”

“
I didn’t hear about fatalities, but I know the hospitals are pretty full. Listen, I hate to be all business here, but I need Janet to join us now. We’re skipping our session today. Everyone’s working together to clean up the mess.”

“
Okay,” Mom says. She turns to us. “Hey. I’m so glad you were here today . . . ” She catches herself and laughs. “I don’t mean because of the earthquake! I’ve just really missed you both. I can’t wait to come home.”

“
Oh, Mom.” I hug her tightly. “You’ll be back soon. Good as new.”

My parents hold on to each other for a few moments, and I hear Dad whisper, “Stay strong, honey,” into Mom’s ear.

Her response is a warm kiss before she turns and follows Jeff.

“
Guess we’d better go see how our house fared,” Dad says as we head back to his car. Partway home, he asks me to call Beatriz.

“
The house is fine,
mija
,” Beatriz assures me. “But you have a guest. Stacy came to see you.”

Stacy? That’s strange. As far as I know, Stacy, along with every other kid in the school, is avoiding me. “Okay. We’ll be home in about five.”

I’m hardly in the house before Stacy is buzzing around me. “You okay, Sia? Was the earthquake rough where you were?”

“
It was a little scary, but we’re fine. Nothing like in San Francisco, I guess.”

“
Yeah, whatever. Oh my God, Sia! When I heard you were out there, I got so worried.”

I hesitate. “Stacy?”

“
Mm?”

“
I don't want to be rude, but why are you here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, but . . . ”

Stacy’s cheeks flush crimson. For a moment, I think she's going to burst into tears. “Oh, Sia. You’ve got to go make up with Amber. You’ve
got
to.”

Oh jeez. “What? Why should I do that? I mean, I can see what she’s all about now, and no one—not even you, Stacy—owes her an apology.”

Stacy’s deep brown eyes are pleading. “I’m so sorry, Sia,” she says quietly. “I really am. We’ve all been rotten to you, especially with you having amnesia and everything. I feel awful.”

“
You should.”

“
I know. But you know how it is around Amber. If you want to survive in that school, you have to do it her way. I mean, it used to be the same with you, right? Amber did whatever you said. Now it’s all changed, and she . . . well, she’d never admit it, of course, but I think she really misses you. I think she feels bad for pushing you out.”

“
Well, she has my phone number,” I say bitterly.

She shakes her head. “She won’t take the first step. It’s not in her nature. So
you
have to.”

I set one hand on my hip. “You know what, Stacy? This whole thing has really opened my eyes, and I don’t care what Amber thinks. I don’t care what
any
of the old crowd thinks. The truth is, I’m ashamed of who I was. I feel horrible about the way I treated Kyle and his friends and countless other kids.”

Stacy frowns. “Okay, I kind of get it, but—”

“
I don’t think you do. I’m trying to tell you that I
can’t
go back. I want to move forward, not backwards.”

She frowns hard, like she’s trying to interpret a different language. Clearly, she’s on a different plane. “Yeah, okay, but Sia, you
have
to apologize to Amber. She’ll forgive you, I’m sure. Then she’ll take you back. Everything will go back to the way it was. The three of us, you know? Manis and pedis, shopping—all that fun stuff.” She is close to tears. “It’s just not the same without you.”

“
Stacy,” I say slowly, softening my tone. “That wasn't enough. I was still miserable. Now I'm finally learning to be happy.”

Stacy slumps, causing her dark curls to bounce. “Oh, Sia,” she sighs, defeated.

I hesitate. “Stacy, can I ask you something?”

“
What?”

“
Are
you
happy?”

For a moment, Stacy just stares at me, boggled, then she snorts. “You’re so funny, Sia. Of course I am.”

I hold her gaze. “C’mon, Stacy. Really?”

She crosses her arms and drops her chin. “Okay,” she finally blurts. “Sometimes it’s not so great.”

“
So why stay with her?”

“
Because! You know why, Sia. You’ve just forgotten. It’s all I’ve ever known. Why would I want to lose all that? I like having friends. I like being invited to all the parties. I fit in with Amber and the other cheerleaders. To be honest, I don’t think I’d fit in anywhere else.”

“
Yes, you would, Stacy. You’re a nice girl. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. Trust me. You’d fit in anywhere.”

All the energy seems to have drained from Stacy. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “I don’t know.”