Far From You Read online

  I could survive.

  no fair

  For two days

  and two nights

  we stayed in the

  teeny-tiny house,

  playing cards

  and watching movies.

  My guitar

  was in the car

  because I insisted

  on bringing it,

  but I was embarrassed to play it

  in front of everyone.

  So there was nothing else to do.

  I had never

  ever

  ever

  ever

  ever

  been

  so

  completely

  bored.

  Even Dad

  was starting to look

  like he was plagued

  with cabin fever.

  Which is probably why

  he didn’t argue at all

  when his boss called him

  and told him

  he had to

  fly to New York

  on Thanksgiving night

  and meet with a lawyer

  first thing

  Friday morning.

  “Can I go with you?” I asked him.

  “I’ve always wanted to see New York.”

  He shook his head

  and told me

  I had to stay with

  Victoria and Ivy

  because she might need help

  on the drive home.

  Wonderful.

  “Did you know this might happen, Dad?” I asked.

  “Yeah.

  I mean, with my job, it’s always a possibility.”

  It suddenly made

  perfect sense

  why they forced me

  to come along.

  happy thanksgiving

  At Linda’s suggestion,

  we went around the table

  and said what we were thankful for.

  There was only one rule.

  Once something was said,

  it couldn’t be said again.

  Linda said family.

  Ted said football.

  Dad said health.

  Victoria said Ivy.

  Eyes turned to me.

  Some eyes were curious,

  some eyes were hopeful,

  and it felt like

  some eyes were disapproving.

  Whatever they were,

  they were all on me.

  And when I said

  the word “Blaze,”

  four eyes looked confused

  and four others looked embarrassed.

  “My boyfriend,” I mumbled,

  to at least make the confused

  less so.

  They nodded

  and smiled,

  then Ted jumped up and said,

  “Okay, let’s cut the bird, shall we?”

  So we gobbled the turkey,

  got stuffed on the stuffing,

  and ended on a sweet note

  with fresh pumpkin pie.

  After dinner

  Linda brought out gifts

  wrapped up in

  paper splattered with

  Santas, snowmen,

  and angels.

  I wondered if her calendar

  was on the wrong month.

  She told us

  to take them home

  and put them

  under our tree

  since we wouldn’t be seeing them

  for Christmas.

  They’d be going to

  North Carolina

  to visit Victoria’s brother

  and sister-in-law.

  Dad threw the box of gifts

  in the back of the Trooper

  before he left for the airport.

  I got a quick good-bye,

  while Victoria and the baby

  got a lingering one outside

  as Ted waited in the car

  to drive Dad to the airport.

  When Victoria came inside,

  I noticed the tears on her face

  before she retreated

  to her room.

  Linda said, “Come on, Ali.

  Let’s play rummy.”

  Man.

  Dad was

  so

  lucky.

  missing you

  Thursday night

  Victoria let me

  borrow her cell phone

  so I could call Blaze,

  since I hadn’t yet

  replaced my old one.

  He told me

  how much he missed me

  and that he’d just been working,

  except not on Thanksgiving

  since the store was closed

  for the holiday.

  He told me

  how he slept until noon,

  woke up,

  watched football all afternoon,

  then ate dinner

  with his family.

  Sounded

  perfect

  to me.

  I asked him

  about Claire,

  and he said

  they talked

  and he’d tell me

  more when I got home.

  “Tell me now. Please?”

  “Oh, Al, I don’t know.

  She’s being weird.

  I told her to stop it.

  We kind of got in a fight, to be honest.”

  I felt my stomach

  tighten at those words.

  “When you get back, you’ll work it out,” he said.

  “Tell me again how much you miss me,” I said softly,

  wanting that to carry me until I got back home.

  He said,

  “Like a tree misses its leaves

  as it stands bare and naked

  in the dead of winter.”

  Big. Sigh.

  “We need to write a song together,” I told him.

  “You’re so good with words.”

  “You’re on,” he said.

  “But only if we make it hot and sexy.”

  I laughed.

  “You’re so persistent.”

  “One of my best qualities,” he said.

  “Then go use it on Claire.

  And tell her to be my friend again.”

  let’s go

  It was decided

  Friday night

  over turkey sandwiches

  and turkey noodle soup

  we’d be heading home

  Saturday morning.

  Although not quite winter yet,

  the forecasters were saying

  Mother Nature

  was planning

  a spectacular preview.

  So Victoria wanted to leave

  before it hit.

  Of course

  there was no argument

  from me.

  When I woke up at 5 a.m.

  for the fifth day in a row,

  I was so tired,

  all the coffee

  in the world

  couldn’t help me.

  I rummaged through

  the medicine cabinet

  while the water

  in the shower heated up.

  Tylenol PM

  jumped out at me,

  and I decided

  it was my

  perfect solution

  for a peaceful

  ride home.

  I took two,

  then let the water

  in the shower

  wash over me

  as I thought

  of Blaze

  and Cobain

  and Claire,

  and how Dorothy was so right.

  There’s no place like home.

  sleepyheads

  Once settled in the car

  and on the road,

  Ivy fell fast asleep,

  perhaps aware

  of how badly

  we both wanted her

  to do just that.

  And I

>   was right

  behind her,

  ready to dream

  of being safe

  in Blaze’s arms

  once

  again.

  awake

  The first thing

  I noticed

  before I opened my eyes

  was that my bladder

  felt like it was going

  to burst.

  The second thing

  I noticed

  before I opened my eyes

  was Victoria

  cussing as she revved

  the engine.

  The third thing

  I noticed

  before I opened my eyes

  was that we weren’t

  moving.

  My eyes

  flew

  OPEN.

  Out the window

  it looked so strange,

  I blinked,

  and blinked again.

  It didn’t look

  real.

  Like at home

  when I turn out the light

  in my room

  and all I see

  is blackness.

  It was snow,

  falling so hard,

  all I could see

  was whiteness.

  Whiteout.

  this can’t be happening

  As if sensing

  the sheer panic

  I was feeling,

  Ivy started crying.

  Without thinking,

  I stuck my pinky

  in her mouth.

  “Victoria, please tell me I’m dreaming.”

  And then

  Victoria started crying.

  It didn’t go on long

  before I yelled,

  “Stop it!

  God, you’re not helping.”

  She turned around,

  bit her lip,

  sniffled, and nodded.

  Then she reached back

  and unlatched Ivy

  from her car seat,

  pulling her close,

  like a little girl

  looking to her doll

  for comfort.

  Victoria started talking

  faster than

  my heart was beating.

  Something about

  a bad wreck on the freeway

  near the Oregon border,

  so she turned off

  to take the back roads

  that she drove with Dad last summer.

  She babbled on

  about the snow

  coming harder and harder,

  stopping to feed Ivy,

  then continuing on,

  going down winding back roads for miles,

  trying to find her way.

  “And now,” she said, finally slowing her words down,

  “we seem to be—”

  “Stuck,” I said, since she hesitated to say the word.

  “So call someone.”

  She pointed her pink phone at me.

  “It’s dead.

  You used it last night, and I forgot my charger.”

  I shook my head,

  trying to get this new piece

  of information

  to sink in,

  but I had to pee so bad,

  I couldn’t even think.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Three.”

  Damn.

  Guess I was tired.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked her.

  “Like you could have helped,” she said,

  in a tone that totally irritated me.

  I grabbed my coat

  from the back

  and put it on.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To the bathroom,” I mumbled.

  When I jumped out of the car,

  the cold slapped my face

  as the snow

  devoured my boot-covered feet,

  and it was as if

  I’d come face to face

  with a

  freaking

  frosted

  monster.

  A monster,

  I hoped,

  who would get tired of us

  and would very quickly

  let us

  go.

  day one

  I tried to push the car out

  with Victoria at the wheel.

  No luck.

  She tried to push the car out

  with me at the wheel.

  No luck.

  Again

  and again

  we tried.

  No luck.

  No luck.

  No luck.

  Dad always said

  people in Seattle

  who had fancy SUVs

  with four-wheel drive

  were paranoid,

  since it only snows,

  like, once a year there.

  Well, I wished he had been

  a bit more paranoid

  about us going on a

  million-mile road trip

  with a baby.

  Without four-wheel drive,

  getting out

  seemed

  impossible.

  Ivy wailed,

  her cries

  a reflection

  of what we

  were feeling.

  We collapsed

  in the car,

  trying to melt

  the icicles on our hands

  that used to be fingers.

  It wasn’t until

  warm tears

  stung my frozen face

  that I realized

  Ivy wasn’t the only one

  crying.

  heated

  Sadness

  quickly became

  red,

  hot

  anger,

  despite

  the bitter cold

  around us.

  I tried to hold it in,

  but it was like trying to

  keep a lit firecracker

  inside a cardboard box.

  “How the hell did this happen?” I yelled.

  “I don’t get it!

  One minute,

  we’re driving down

  the damn freeway.

  And the next,

  we’re in the middle of nowhere,

  stuck in a blizzard?

  Are you really that freaking stupid?”

  Sizzling.

  Scorching.

  Hot.

  “Okay, stop it!” she screamed.

  “The storm came out of nowhere.

  And all the roads started to look the same.

  It’s not my fault, Alice.

  It’s not!”

  “What the—

  Then who the hell’s fault is it?

  Mine?

  Is it my freaking fault?”

  Silence.

  I laughed.

  “You’re going to blame this on me, aren’t you?

  I bet you’re plotting right now

  what you’re going to say to Dad

  to turn him against me even more.

  Well, how about this?

  Why don’t you

  just throw me

  out there to freeze to death?

  Then you could have

  your nice little family

  without me.

  Or I know,

  I’ll make it easy for you!

  I’ll just go.”

  Burning.

  Boiling.

  Hot.

  I started to reach back

  for my guitar,

  because where I go, it goes,

  but Victoria grabbed my arm

  and pulled me back to my seat.

  Hard.

  “You listen to me, Ali,” she hissed.

  “I’m not plotting anything.

  And you’re not going anywhere.

  You’re staying here,

  and we’re going to figure this out.

&n
bsp; Together.

  And I want you to know something.

  Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I hate you.

  I’ve tried my best—”

  “What?

  Your best?

  Come on, you haven’t tried your best

  to do anything.

  Most of the time, you ignore me.

  How is that trying?”

  Searing.

  Steaming.

  Hot.

  “I don’t ignore you!

  I leave you alone

  because you make it clear that’s what you want.

  You miss your mom.

  I get that.

  But don’t make me out to be some terrible person.

  Because I’m not.”

  She took a deep breath,

  her eyes closing as her

  tongue curled up

  like I’d seen it do so many times before.

  She blinked, and blinked again.

  But it didn’t help.

  The tears started to come.

  “Of course it’s my fault

  we’re in this Goddamn mess,” she cried.

  “Is that what you need to hear?

  You want to hear how bad I feel,

  knowing I’ve done this to you?

  To Ivy?

  To all of us?”

  She wiped her face

  with the back of her hand,

  then pointed at me.

  “Right now, it’s you and me.

  We have to work together,