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I tilted my head and said, “Goodnight, Hayes Madigan.”
And as he walked away, I reached for my door handle, twisting the cold metal to open my door. I paused in the threshold, glancing back at Hayes as he got into his truck. He gave me a final wave before backing out of the driveway and going on his way, headlights broken up by a torrent of rain.
My heart pattered happily, matching the drops of rain, as I walked into my house smiling.
I’d just gone on a date with Hayes Madigan. And he liked me back.
My phone started to ring, vibrating my bag.
I reached into my purse, wondering how Liv knew to call at just the right time to dissect every second of my date.
But it wasn’t her name on the screen. It was Hayes’s.
“Hello?” I said, bringing the phone to my ear as I stood in my living room. Had he forgotten something?
“Has it been long enough?” he asked, a smile to his voice.
With a happy laugh, I said, “I believe so.”
“Are you free Monday night for dinner?”
“Let me see if I’m available...” I pretended to check my calendar as I walked back toward my bedroom and then bit back a smile. “I’ll see you then.”
27
HAYES
“Mama, look!” I said, holding up a piece of paper with her favorite colors, yellow and orange. I had used leaves and sticks to trace a design I knew she would love.
She tried to lift her head from the soft white pillows, her brown hair looking coarse and lank around her like an old horse’s mane. But she lowered her head and coughed, making her swollen belly shake. Her arms were like bones, but her stomach was big and swollen. I already asked Dad and there wasn’t a baby in there.
Her eyes stayed closed, even after she coughed. She didn’t even turn her head.
Why wasn’t she looking at my drawing? I knew it would make her smile like it always did. Even though she was having more and more bad days when she couldn’t eat with us at the table, she always liked my art.
“Mama?” I repeated. “Look!” I held up the paper. Her head rolled to the other side, away from me.
Anger roared up in me like it always did before I hit one of my brothers. But they weren’t around making me mad. She was ignoring me. Mama didn’t ignore me.
I tugged on her skeleton-like arm, trying to get her attention. “Mama!”
Dad came into the room, tugging me away from her. “Stop yanking on her, Hayes!” Dad whisper-yelled. “She doesn’t feel good! You’re hurting her!”
I held up my drawing to show him. “I wanted to give this to her!” I yelled back. “She’s ignoring me!”
Mom coughed again, and Dad’s face formed a hard line. “Can’t you see it’s not the time?” he asked in a mad whisper. “Let her sleep!”
I didn’t whisper back. “FINE!” I yelled and ripped up the drawing. Dad’s face fell and I ran from the room, Mama’s coughs echoing behind me.
I jerked up in a cold sweat, my heart sinking from my dream. That was the last time I’d seen her alive, and when I touched my cheeks, they were wet with tears, just like always.
I hadn’t had that dream for over a decade. But now my clothes were soaked with perspiration and even my bedding felt damp.
I got out of bed, the air instantly chilling my skin and making me shake.
A glance at the alarm clock on my nightstand showed it was just past three o’clock. And I knew there would be no going back to sleep. There never was after that dream.
Ripping off my T-shirt, I walked to my bathroom, hoping a hot shower could soothe the crazy thrum of my heart, the unexpected reappearance of my darkest memory.