her memories.
Emmy said something about history repeating itself, but I told her it was different, that I never really knew Johnny Drinko, and that I believed Stella and Ryan had been in love before she left him. I started to cry a little when I told her how tight-lipped Stella’d been when I was a kid, how little I knew about my father.
“He was the only thing that made her quiet.”
Jonah got out of his seat and came over, put one tiny hand on my knee, and held his other fist out, opening it to reveal a red Matchbox car.
“Take it,” he said, and patted my leg. “This always makes me feel better when I get sad.” And then he crawled into Marni’s lap. “Mommy says when you’re sad you have to cry to get it out of you. That once it’s out, you’ll feel better,” he said. “It’ll be over soon,” and he turned away and began drawing letters in the condensation on the window.
Emmy was a good listener while I complained about writing my father letters when I was kid and finding them tucked under magazines and food scraps in the trash.
“That’s so after-school special,” she said, shaking her head. “Jesus, Lemon, that really sucks.”
“She never gave me any answers, and I was little, you know? I didn’t understand,” I said as we finally crossed out of the flat expanse of Kansas and into Colorado.
She took off her glasses and squished her eyebrows into a V. “But you’re not little now,” she said, and she pulled her hand into her sleeve and used it to wipe my nose. “She doesn’t get to decide anymore. You’re in control,” she told me, which I liked the sound of even if I didn’t believe it yet. “Maybe that’s what this trip is all about, about taking responsibility,” she said. “You’re actually doing something now.”
“I wanted to believe she made the right choice for us,” I told her, “but I just couldn’t help being pissed off. It’s like sometimes I blame her for not making a family out of us, but then sometimes I know it was probably better that way,” I said. “He never came for me, so I figured he was a loser, the kind of guy who couldn’t handle being a dad.”
I thought of Johnny Drinko and how similar he and my father must have been, and I wondered if Stella had recognized similarities too, if she had wanted Johnny Drinko because she’d seen pieces of Ryan in him.
“But as hard as I’ve tried to write him off, I never stopped wondering,” I said as the bus motored us through the first miles of Colorado. “I just need to see for myself. To know she was right, that we’re better off without him.”
And Emmy said, “Or even that you’re not,” and I nodded.
I slipped the piece of paper back into the book and tooka deep breath. I apologized for not telling her the truth and for thinking of myself and my father even though he’d been gone all along and I should have been used to it by then. I also apologized for not being able to change the fact that her dad had just gotten taken away.
“I know this trip is supposed to be about escaping our families, not chasing them down,” I said. “But I was worried it would be my only chance to go, now that I’m pregnant. I just want to find him before the baby comes. I need to see if knowing him would make anything different.” I told her I was an asshole and a crappy friend for lying and dragging her along.
“But this isn’t about me,” she said, and I couldn’t tell if she was mad or not. Mostly I think she was just glad I’d come clean. “I mean, yeah, you’re a shithead for not being honest, but I would’ve come anyway, even if you had told me.” She moved her hand into mine and left it there, rubbing my fingers with hers. “My dad being gone has nothing to do with you,” she said. “And maybe you’re selfish a little, but it’s still California.” She shrugged. “I’m in,” she said. And then I burrowed down into her lap and shut my eyes, finally falling asleep as the bus moved us
Emmy said something about history repeating itself, but I told her it was different, that I never really knew Johnny Drinko, and that I believed Stella and Ryan had been in love before she left him. I started to cry a little when I told her how tight-lipped Stella’d been when I was a kid, how little I knew about my father.
“He was the only thing that made her quiet.”
Jonah got out of his seat and came over, put one tiny hand on my knee, and held his other fist out, opening it to reveal a red Matchbox car.
“Take it,” he said, and patted my leg. “This always makes me feel better when I get sad.” And then he crawled into Marni’s lap. “Mommy says when you’re sad you have to cry to get it out of you. That once it’s out, you’ll feel better,” he said. “It’ll be over soon,” and he turned away and began drawing letters in the condensation on the window.
Emmy was a good listener while I complained about writing my father letters when I was kid and finding them tucked under magazines and food scraps in the trash.
“That’s so after-school special,” she said, shaking her head. “Jesus, Lemon, that really sucks.”
“She never gave me any answers, and I was little, you know? I didn’t understand,” I said as we finally crossed out of the flat expanse of Kansas and into Colorado.
She took off her glasses and squished her eyebrows into a V. “But you’re not little now,” she said, and she pulled her hand into her sleeve and used it to wipe my nose. “She doesn’t get to decide anymore. You’re in control,” she told me, which I liked the sound of even if I didn’t believe it yet. “Maybe that’s what this trip is all about, about taking responsibility,” she said. “You’re actually doing something now.”
“I wanted to believe she made the right choice for us,” I told her, “but I just couldn’t help being pissed off. It’s like sometimes I blame her for not making a family out of us, but then sometimes I know it was probably better that way,” I said. “He never came for me, so I figured he was a loser, the kind of guy who couldn’t handle being a dad.”
I thought of Johnny Drinko and how similar he and my father must have been, and I wondered if Stella had recognized similarities too, if she had wanted Johnny Drinko because she’d seen pieces of Ryan in him.
“But as hard as I’ve tried to write him off, I never stopped wondering,” I said as the bus motored us through the first miles of Colorado. “I just need to see for myself. To know she was right, that we’re better off without him.”
And Emmy said, “Or even that you’re not,” and I nodded.
I slipped the piece of paper back into the book and tooka deep breath. I apologized for not telling her the truth and for thinking of myself and my father even though he’d been gone all along and I should have been used to it by then. I also apologized for not being able to change the fact that her dad had just gotten taken away.
“I know this trip is supposed to be about escaping our families, not chasing them down,” I said. “But I was worried it would be my only chance to go, now that I’m pregnant. I just want to find him before the baby comes. I need to see if knowing him would make anything different.” I told her I was an asshole and a crappy friend for lying and dragging her along.
“But this isn’t about me,” she said, and I couldn’t tell if she was mad or not. Mostly I think she was just glad I’d come clean. “I mean, yeah, you’re a shithead for not being honest, but I would’ve come anyway, even if you had told me.” She moved her hand into mine and left it there, rubbing my fingers with hers. “My dad being gone has nothing to do with you,” she said. “And maybe you’re selfish a little, but it’s still California.” She shrugged. “I’m in,” she said. And then I burrowed down into her lap and shut my eyes, finally falling asleep as the bus moved us
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