“Next round. Promise,” said Phoebe.
“It’s okay, Pheebs. You can go,” I said, even though I wanted so badly for her to stay.
“No, that’s all right. Tell me more about the mountains.”
“Well … they’re tall. And snowy. I don’t know. Tell me about Mark’s friends.”
“Oh! There’s this one guy, Paul, who’s super dreamy. I think he might be Greek originally, but he lives in New York now. He’s studying philosophy and he has this big space in between his front teeth. And then there’s Mark’s roommate, Beezus.”
“Beezus?”
“Yeah, I think because there’s a Scott R. and a Scott B., and he’s Scott B. But anyway, he is really funny and he’s staying with Mark because he’s from Montana and it’s too expensive to go home. He’s like nineteen I think because he took off a year before school to fix houses for people in Nepal. I think he’s going back there this summer, too. How cool is that? I was trying to get on the Internet so I could look up Nepal’s biggest export or something. How’s this sound, ‘Hey, so I heard there’s really good paprika over there. I love paprika, don’t you? It’s so spicy.’”
Phoebe always knew how to cheer me up. She was laughing, too.
“Oh, Pheebs. I wish you were here. Then it’d be fun.”
“Yeah, well, you’re just gonna have to have fun for both of us.”
“Yeah, I guess. First I have to deal with Ricecake.” Ricecake was our nickname for Kathy, because ricecakes are so bland and they’re made of mostly air.
“Ah, just ignore her. This is your time to have fun.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I know.”
“Phoebe?”
I didn’t recognize the voice on the other end now. Must’ve been one of Mark’s friends.
“Yeah?” Phoebe sang sweetly.
“Who is it? Who is it?” I asked.
“Paprika,” she whispered.
I felt a flutter in my chest. That was the best part of our friendship. I always got to live a little vicariously.
“Hey, a bunch of us are going to head out to Bonnie Briar, if you wanted to come with?” I couldn’t tell. Did he have a Montana accent? Was there such a thing?
“Oh, I guess I’ll meet you in a little bit,” said Phoebe.
“GO! GO!” I barked.
“Are you sure?” I could tell Phoebe was putting her face really close to the phone. Her voice was so close my ear felt itchy.
“Yes! Yes! But Pheebs?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think it’s paprika. It’s probably something like wool or lentils.”
“Got it,” she said.
“And call me later. I want a full report.”
“Definitismally.”
I shut my phone. If Pheebs fell in love and moved to Nepal, I was going with her, even if I had to pitch a tent in her backyard. I’d be the spinster who wove blankets and cooked stews. Maybe I’d get a sheep of my own, too. At least then I wouldn’t be completely alone.
I pressed my mom’s number. I hadn’t spoken to her since Jeremy and I left for Florida, even though I wanted to call her so badly while I was hiding during the wedding reception. But I knew that would be hard for her, so I didn’t.
Four rings and then it went to voice mail. I clicked my phone off. Where was she on a Sunday night? She usually stayed home and read the paper. Unless Lois invited her over for a glass of white wine. Or maybe she went out with Jon.
Ugh, Jon. Talk about a nerd. Jon had picked up Mom at the nursing home where she worked. I think he came in to play clarinet or something. He was good at the clarinet because he had this long, droopy lower lip. He was also 6'2", which was something, I guess. And he liked to take Mom to concerts at Lincoln Center and out for Chinese food. But he also talked way too close to my face, he had a thin, gray ponytail, and he was constantly chewing on mint toothpicks. Definitely not cool enough to be dating my mom. My mom is fun and smart and has the softest hair in the world and she can do the New York Times Sunday crossword in pen in less than two hours. And when we were little she used to take us on roller coasters at Rye Playland, even though it made her so scared that she had to put her head between her knees afterward. She also used to make batik shirts for us with stars and spaceships on them. She really is awesome. What was my dad’s problem? I knew it was more complicated than that, but still, I wouldn’t be out here in the middle of Nowheresville right now if he could see how great Mom was, right?
I saw a warm shaft of light open and spread out on the snow as the front door to the inn opened.
“Sam, is that you?”
Exactly not what I needed right now.
“Yeah. Hi, Kathy,” I said limply.
“Phew! We’ve been looking all over for you. We were going to have some drinks and then sit down to dinner. What do you say, Miss Supercool?”
Miss Supercool? What were we, like, five years old?
I looked up. Kathy had changed into a long cowl-neck sweater and skinny jeans. Her hair was pulled back, too, and piled on top of her head. Of course, she had perfect, delicate, tiny ears.
“Listen, Kathy. Just go ahead without me. I don’t really feel that hungry after all.” I tried to give her a fake smile and then looked back at the ground.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
I didn’t look up. Eye contact could be construed as an invitation to talk more. But I guess she couldn’t take the hint because she came and sat next to me on the stone step anyway.
“It’s cold out here. You should have a coat on.”
“I’m fine.” Why couldn’t she see that I just wanted to be alone?
“Listen, I’m sorry this is so hard for you, Sam. I really am.” I felt her hand touch my back tentatively, like spider fingers. “I mean, here I am, suddenly in your life. I’m nothing like your mom, you know? I’m this totally new, different bird.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“And I know you have a very special relationship with your father. I really respect that, and I see how much you love him. And I love your father very much, too. Which must be hard. I get it. I really do.” Now she was sort of massaging the back of my neck, but it was really light and just next to the tag so mostly it just felt scratchy and annoying. I knew she was trying, but I couldn’t help it. I had had enough.
“Do you get it? Do you really?” I said. “Because I don’t see how you could! Honestly, Kathy, no offense, but none of this would be happening if it wasn’t for you.”
Her eyes got big and she was blinking a lot.
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, Sam, I’m just trying to —”
“No, I know you’re trying. Everybody’s trying. We’re trying to work this out, and then we’re trying to make this easy on you, and then we’re trying Florida, and try, try, try. But I don’t want to try anymore!”
I could feel the back of my neck getting hot. My nose was drippy and I saw spit flying out of my mouth in the light from the inn. Like I said, I’m no stranger to speaking my mind. Even if it’s not pretty.
Kathy took a controlled breath and nodded her head slowly. “Well, okay, then. I just came out to tell you the whole family is sitting in front of the fire and —”
But I wasn’t done. As a matter of fact, I was just getting started.
“No, don’t you get it?! We are not a family! I am not your daughter, and you can’t tell me when to eat dinner or when to put on a coat!”
“I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do,” she whined. “I just wanted you to …” She left the sentence in midair and shook her head.
“What? Wanted to what?” I pushed.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled. I knew I should stop, but it made me mad that she wouldn’t even stick up for herself.
“You know what, Kathy? I know you make my dad happy and that’s great and maybe Jeremy can sit there and act like it’s all good and fine, but I can’t! You are not my mom, and you are not my friend, and you are not going to be, okay?! I do not want to watch sunsets with you or see you snuggle with my dad and I certainly will not be kissing any snowflakes. Ever!”