A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [160]
Dennis had snapped out of his malaise. It was either the imminence of meeting Jilly Cross or the prospect of getting his brother out of his life. Or maybe it was just being in charge again. “Your brother is always such a help,” his mother used to write. “We seem to rely on him more and more. Aunt Gert says a teenager shouldn’t be making such important family decisions, but with your dad so low all the time, Denny has to, and besides, he always does such a good job.”
“Do you want me to call Delores?”
“No.”
“She’ll want to know.”
“She won’t.”
CHAPTER 25
Only the stem was left. Jada picked up the last few rose petals. She added more water to the soda bottle, then put it back on the sill. If roots grew, she would plant it and have her own rosebush. She looked out the window: all that food going to waste over there in Gordon’s refrigerator. By the time he got out, it would probably be spoiled. Poor guy. Why couldn’t the old lady have just stayed in a coma and not bothered anyone ever again? His yard was starting to look like hers, littered with papers, twigs, and pieces of the yellow crime tape. The grass needed to be cut. A new telephone book had been thrown on his top step. Its pages were swollen and curled from last night’s downpour. A man was jogging down the street with his German shepherd. Twice yesterday she had run outside thinking she heard Leonardo barking. She didn’t believe Thurman. Polie might be mean, but he was too lazy to tie his own shoes, much less go to all the trouble of killing her dog. No, Leonardo was out there somewhere, and one of these days he’d make his way back here. She wished she knew a real prayer to say. All she remembered was Aunt Sue telling her to close her eyes and tell Jesus what was in her heart. She closed her eyes and held her breath, but no prayer came, only an ache like a voice begging, Help me. Please.Will somebody please, please help me.
She tiptoed into the bedroom. Her mother slept on her side, curled and unmoving, in the exact same position for the last hour. Jada leaned close, relieved to hear the watery rasp of breath. All she did between hits now was sleep. When she did get up to go to the bathroom, her legs were so shaky she could barely walk. The more she slept, the less crack she smoked and the more pregnant she got. Soon she’d be too far along for an abortion. Jada didn’t know how long they could last like this. Her only hope was getting her mother into rehab. She had gone down there a couple days ago, but she didn’t have an appointment, so she was supposed to go back tomorrow at one-thirty.
Jada locked the door, then hurried across the street onto Gordon’s porch. She propped the sodden telephone book against the railing to dry. His door was locked. So were the windows. She tried the back door and windows, the cellar windows. Everything was locked up tight, even the garage. She came around the side of the house, then reached into the bush to break off a stem of three new roses. “Mother-fucker!” she yelled as the thorns scratched her arm. Angry now, she kicked the dirt, then squatted down, looking for a rock to smash the back-door glass the way Thurman had.
A silver car pulled into the driveway and the doors opened, one right into the bushes as a tall, dark-haired woman got out. “Hey! What’re you doing?” Gordon’s brother called over the roof of the car.
“Just picking stuff up.” She dropped the rock and held up an empty popcorn bag, a plastic water bottle. “And the new telephone book, it got all wet, so I moved it over by the door there.”
“Well, thank you. That’s very nice of you,” the woman said as the man went up the steps two at a time. Jada watched to see if he took a key from a hiding place, but he used his own to get inside.
“Yeah, well, Gordon, he never likes crap around, you know, so that’s why.” She walked across the lawn with the woman. “I’m Jada. I live over there.” She pointed.
The woman held out her hand, introducing herself as Lisa,