What a Mother Knows by Leslie Lehr

swayed—a dancer, Michelle guessed. Victor’s camera panned the other boys’ faces, but they were stealing glances off camera, at Noah.
    On screen, Noah held out his arm and drew the girl close. She looked like a typical groupie in ghoulish makeup, a bit on the thin side, with a black Roadhouse T-shirt pinned together at the side. When the camera cut to a close-up, she winked her false eyelashes, raised her black-penciled brows, and stared right into the camera lens. Her eyes were round and deep, like marbles made of Tiger’s Eye.
    Michelle could hear her heart beat. She held up her hand to make it stop, but searing pain shot up her arm. Wrong hand. She cried out and cradled her arm.
    â€œYou okay?” Tyler asked. He hit Pause.
    She nodded, pretending the Earth had not just shifted off its axis. She opened the glove compartment, grabbed the bent glasses, and shoved them on quickly. When Tyler hit the Play button, she leaned in for a clearer look.
    On-screen, Nikki resumed her swaying dance. The camera pulled back to reveal the entire the band, then panned back to Noah, who strummed the last chord and looked over at Nikki. She was laughing as her hand reached up into the frame. Her bitten nails were painted black, and she spread two fingers apart into her trademark sign. The image froze, then the screen went dark.
    Michelle found her voice. “She looks so different. If it weren’t for the bunny ears…”
    Tyler half-smiled. “Nobody gets that. They think it’s a peace sign, like she’s so hip.”
    Michelle smiled at him. No one knew Nikki like they did. She wasn’t a truant or some hippie chick. She was their girl. “You think this had something to do with her running away?”
    â€œI don’t know, but after it went viral, she sure got popular all of a sudden. Then, boom, Noah was gone. You both were.”
    â€œThen maybe I was wrong about her being teased.”
    â€œNo, she was still teased. But not about underwear.” He avoided her eyes and cranked the key so far the engine screamed.
    Michelle put her hand on his leg. “Did you ever get to pitch?”
    He shook his head and drove home.

9
    Michelle thought she was dreaming again, swimming through darkness in search of some light. Round, racking sobs filled her head, water slipped through her fingers, and her lungs strained for air. She fought to pull out of it, to keep from drowning beneath the weight of her tears. Then she unclenched her hand from the bed sheet to wipe her eyes. They were dry.
    Someone else was crying. Michelle fumbled to find the lamp on her bedside table, then gave up, leaping from the bed only to bang her bad shoulder into the wall. She ignored the pain and stumbled out the door into the dark. Another sob barreled down the hall like a cannonball. Michelle prayed it was her daughter. While Nikki’s tears used to torment her, now the sobs were a symphony, the hiccups heaven-sent. Michelle could bear anything, even her baby’s unhappiness, if only she could see her again.
    Michelle pushed the door open. A figure lay beneath the knit blanket. Michelle tiptoed in. A car sped past, streaking light through the shutters and across the walls. The light gleamed against the woman’s silver hair. It was Michelle’s mother.
    Elyse was quiet now. Whatever nightmare roused Michelle had ended. She backed slowly out of the room and sat down in the hallway. She crossed her legs and leaned back against the wall in a familiar position. This wasn’t the first time her mother’s tears had woken her.
    Behind the locked door her mother was crying. She’d called Michelle to her room late at night. Wine-stained crystal goblets were lined up along her bedside table like wounded soldiers. Elyse’s bloodshot eyes were smeared with mascara as she begged her little girl to go downstairs for more wine. She needed to take her Seconal, she cried, she was in so much