The Long Wait for Tomorrow (16 page)

“My parents never bought us our own separate toys,” Patrick explained, giving her hair a second go-through. “We shared everything, so these were also my brother’s.”

“Oh God …” Jenna sat up suddenly, strands falling out of Patrick’s hand. “I’m sorry, Patrick, I didn’t mean …”

“Don’t worry about it.….” Patrick gave a cardboard smile. “It was a long time ago. I was eight at the time, so I kept everything. But since they were also his, I wasn’t allowed to get rid of anything once I got older…. Couldn’t even switch rooms. Mom and Dad do need their separate offices.”

Jenna looked down at her knees, still uncertain of her absolution. “I guess your parents never got over it.”

“No, they did…. It’s more like they never did anything about it.” Patrick motioned with his head. “You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I put that poster up…. Didn’t say anything, though. They never do.”

“Ugh,” Jenna groaned. She sunk back onto the bed.

“You OK?”

“The power of suggestion,” Jenna laughed dryly. “Kelly actually had me believing tomorrow would never come.”

“You mean today,” Patrick corrected.

“I mean whatever it was Kelly believed.”

“Yeah, about that …”

Sensing a change in tone, Jenna lifted her eyes.

Patrick coughed. “You know how when you woke up this morning, and Kelly was gone?”

She nodded.

“And you know how I told you that when I saw Kelly, he had seemed completely fine? That he had wanted to get to school early, and talk to Coach Redwood? And that’s why you and I went on our own, because Kelly said he’d see us there?”

Jenna’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yeah?”

“It’s a bit more the opposite of everything I just said.”

“Oh?” Jenna rose once more, brushed at a few damp tendrils resting on her neck. “And what
is
the opposite of … all that?”

Patrick sighed. “Kelly was already awake when I woke up. I don’t think he actually slept the whole night. When he saw me, he freaked out and started rambling, threw on a pair of pants that were … in the kitchen, got in his car, and just …” Patrick raised his arm, palm flat, and sent it forward.

Capped it off with a small wave.

“So, you don’t know where Kelly
is
?”

“No.”

“You mean we’ve lost him. Like some kid at the fair?”

“Yeah.”

“And to top it off, he
still
thinks he’s dreaming?”

“No …” Patrick hesitated. “He’s past all that now, he’s … moved on.”

“Moved on
where?”

“Well, from what I gather …” Patrick stood up, moved to the dresser. He backtracked and did what he could to postpone
all revelations. “So, the first thing he said to me was
It’s still today. Patrick, I’m still here, and it’s still today.
After that, he kind of went on automatic. Kept repeating …
It’s actually happened. It’s not a dream. I’m back. I really am back. It’s 2008 …”
Patrick tensed up, knowing full well that Jenna wasn’t an idiot. “And well, that’s what Kelly’s … decided, I guess.”

No longer concerned with hair or hangover, Jenna lowered her head. Let it hang limply for a few seconds. Then, taking a deep breath, she curled back up and sighed. “Let me see if I got this straight…. Kelly no longer believes he is in an institution. Twenty years from now. Dreaming all this up. Instead, it turns out that Kelly
was
in an institution, only now, rather than
dreaming
he’s here with all of us, he’s actually, physically
traveled twenty years back through time….
Time travel. Please tell me I completely misunderstood, Patrick.”

“No, that’s it exactly.”

Jenna’s face remained deadpan. “Neat.”

Patrick was about to follow up when he heard his mother call out his name.

It wasn’t her voice that surprised the pair as much as its unexpected proximity to them. Halfway up the stairs, judging from the sound of it. Footsteps closing the distance. Jenna shot Patrick a look, unsure what passed for proper etiquette in Patrick’s house. Patrick stared right back, panicked. Unsure what kind of face to put on, or how to signal:
I don’t know, Kelly’s the only damn person who’s ever been in this room, so there’s no telling if it’s because nobody else ever comes in here, or if maybe Kelly’s the only other person
allowed
in here, allowed to
sleep in the lower bunk, because he simply came along at just the right time.

“Patrick?” his mother’s voice called out from the top of the stairs.

“Yeah,” Patrick managed. “I’m in here.”

The affirmation forced Jenna to her feet. Almost immediately she was swaying against the winds in her brain, and had to steady herself against the bedpost. She managed to get it together and, working fast, ironed out her clothes with erratic strokes before striding over to Miles Davis for a closer, more casual look.

Patrick’s mother appeared in the doorway. She set her black leather satchel down, raised her right arm, and brought her hand to rest against the doorjamb. A pair of matching pumps gave her an extra two inches, tan-colored suit tailored to aid the same illusion. Hair up in a bun, showing off her agile features, slender neck.

She surveyed the scene with courtroom eyes. “Patrick, what are you doing home?”

“Free period,” Patrick replied, taking the stand. “It’s Friday.”

Patrick’s mother sniffed. “Where’s Kelly?”

“He’s at school.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Nope.” Patrick motioned over toward Jenna. “Nothing.”

“Hello, Jenna.”

Jenna nodded, always polite. “Hello, Mrs. Saint.”

“How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you.”

“Mmm.” Patrick’s mother nodded. “Still working at Foot Locker?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Patrick, what’s that smell?”

Patrick saw Jenna’s mouth open, and he hastily stepped forward. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t feeling well. I just got real nauseous all of a sudden, and I couldn’t make it to the bathroom….” Patrick motioned with his head to the wastebasket. “I’m sorry.”

Patrick’s mother glanced down. The discolored spot on the rug glared up at her. She looked over at Jenna, sorted through the contradictory evidence in her hair, wrinkled clothes, and bloodshot eyes. With pursed lips, she turned back to her son. “Didn’t get any on your suit.”

“Well …” Patrick brushed at his pants with both hands, unsure what she was asking him to explain.

“Because it
is
a nice suit.”

“Kelly got it for me.”

“And you didn’t get vomit on it, so that’s good…. Every where but the suit, it seems.”

“I’m going to clean it up….”

“Patrick, you’ve got a letter here….” She reached down and removed a sealed envelope from her bag. Raised it as she would a summons. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

Through the locomotive rush of blood to his head, Patrick heard Jenna gasp: “Is it from Ohio State?”

“No,” Patrick’s mother replied curtly, eyes trained on her son. “It’s not.”

The trap was set, and Patrick had to fight against a lifetime of desire to keep from walking into it. He stared at the envelope waving lazily in his mother’s hand. Searching for clues. Thickness,
postmark, return address, anything that might give it away without having to ask.

What’s inside was decided upon days, maybe weeks ago
, his angels marveled.
And look at the time it’s taken
, is still taking,
to get to you.

“Starlight,” Patrick said out loud.

His mother frowned, halted the hypnotic coaxing of the white envelope. But her recovery was instantaneous. “Well.” She lowered her arm and slid the letter back into the confines of her bag. “I just stopped in to pick up a change for this afternoon. I prefer blue for depositions. Maybe we should just wait for your father to get home….”

“Mrs. Saint,” Jenna spoke up, reaching for the wastebasket. “I can clean up here, if you need a moment with your son—”

“Don’t touch that,”Patrick’s
mother snapped.

Jenna’s hand froze, inches from the rim.

“Thank you, but I’ll take care of it,” she continued, smoothing over her outburst with a genial nod. “Patrick and I will discuss this later, with his father. When he gets home. Tonight.”

Patrick nodded.

Jenna took a step back.

“You two should get going,” Patrick’s mother suggested. “These next few days are the important ones.”

Jenna and Patrick made a silent exit, eyes lowered as they passed his mother. She stood at the top of the stairs as they went down. Stood at the bottom as they cut through the living room. Stood at the front door as they glanced back over their shoulders, keeping watch from an always-indefinable distance.

hat was that about, back there?”

“Nothing …” Patrick slowed to a stop, waited for the light to turn green. “Nothing important.”

Jenna stroked the armrest absently. “Wasn’t from Ohio State.”

“Huh?”

“I thought OSU was the only school you hadn’t gotten into.”

Patrick squinted up at the stoplight, images of his acceptance letter dancing in his head.

“I feel better, Patrick…. I feel a bit better now that I …”

Jenna groaned, remembering just what it was that was bringing her out of her stupor. “I’m sorry about puking in the waste-basket like that.”

“Not too many ways a person can puke in a wastebasket; you did fine.”

“Are you mad?” Jenna asked, leaning forward a bit, trying to get a read on Patrick. “Are you mad at me, Patrick?”

“I’m not mad.”

“What was that letter about?”

“I’m not mad,” Patrick repeated, pressing on the accelerator as the light turned green.

“Your mom doesn’t like me hanging out with you.”

“Believe me, my mom’s got no problem with you hanging out with
me.”

“Oh.” Jenna looked down, folded her hands together. “Just with Kelly, I guess.”

Patrick didn’t answer.

“I’m not stupid, Patrick.”

“I know …” He flipped his turn signal, slowing down for the entrance to Wellspring Academy. “I know you’re not stupid. I’d just rather not … I’d rather focus on Kelly right now.”

“What do you suggest?” Jenna asked, looking out to the passing forest lining the winding driveway. “I mean, what do you think we can even do?”

“Keep him from getting worse.”

“I don’t know if he’s really gotten
worse.”

“Oh …” The driveway opened up to the gulf of white lines and parked cars. Patrick focused his attention on finding their spot, kept his heart from sinking any further. “I kind of
thought
you liked him better this way.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You
don’t
like him better this way?”

Jenna didn’t answer.

Patrick found their space and slid in. Turned off the engine and waited.

“It’s funny,” Jenna sighed, bringing her hands up to cover her face. “This is the second time you’ve brought this up.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.” Jenna dropped her hands, and Patrick was
amazed to find a smile hiding beneath it all. “You brought it up yesterday, at Kelly’s house. Right before he showed up with your suit and my dress.”

“Another banner moment for the New Kelly McDermott,” Patrick muttered.

“You were upset because I was enjoying myself just a
little
too much. You’re jealous of Kelly.”

“I’ve
always
been jealous of Kelly,” Patrick informed her, a little surprised to hear it come out so blatantly. Surprised, but unabashed. It was a bit like taking his own shot at vomiting, a welcome purge. “When it comes to you, I’ve always been jealous.”

Patrick glanced over, found Jenna staring at him, confused.

“Surprised?” he asked.

“No,” she replied. Her abrupt honesty seemed to startle her, mouth open as though looking for a way to backtrack into familiar territory. Instead, she forged ahead. “No. But it’s just not the kind of thing you’re supposed to … It’s conceited, to imply that you’d be … that you—”

“I was upset, last night, because you weren’t
concerned
enough,” Patrick interrupted, talking fast to keep her from taking it any further, because Jenna was not a stupid girl. Just polite, but both of them seemed to be in short supply of manners, and something had to stop Patrick’s heart from migrating to his sleeve. “Jealousy is a passing emotion, meaningless. I wasn’t upset that you were enjoying yourself with Kelly. I’m
glad you
were. But it’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye, and now we’ve got a time-traveling Kelly McDermott out there somewhere, probably scouring the countryside for the
nearest wormhole, and we’ve got no way of bringing him back to earth!”