Fourth Comings_ A Jessica Darling Novel - Megan McCafferty [75]
“Well,” my mom said, snapping into an efficient tone, “the doctors tell me that he lost consciousness because he was severely dehydrated….”
“Dehydrated?” I asked. “Christ, it’s not that hot today. How long was he out on the bike?”
“How should I know?” my mom shot back. “A few hours, I think. He’s always riding while I’m out working. I can’t keep track of his mileage….”
This was true, and yet I found it so sad that my mom had no idea what my father did for hours on end.
“The doctors say he needs about four bags of fluid, which will take all day.”
“Four bags? That sounds like a lot. Is that a lot?”
“I’m not a doctor, Jessie.” My mom sighed. “I have no idea.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m coming home.”
“Why?” my mom asked.
“Bethany won’t want to take Marin out of school,” I said, “and I feel like one of us should be there, so that leaves me.”
“It’s not necessary,” my mom said.
“No, Mom,” I corrected. “I think it is. Dad’s in the hospital. I’m coming.”
We made arrangements for her to pick me up at the Pineville bus station. When I hung up, I caught Hope hovering in the hallway outside the Cupcake.
“Is your dad okay?”
The question stuck in the air unanswered, mired in the impenetrable tension between us. I had to make a decision: Would I rather harbor resentment about last night’s revelation or forgive and forget and let bygones be bygones and all that water flow under the bridge?
“He crashed his bike.”
“Oh.”
“He’s in the hospital because he’s severely dehydrated.”
“Oh.”
“I’m going to Pineville as soon as I can get my shit together.”
Hope shifted from one foot to the other, like a kid who needs to pee. She was nervous.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m…” I picked the ring off the steamer trunk/coffee table where I had put it the night before. I read the inscription for the bizillionth time: MY THOUGHTS CREATE MY WORLD. “I don’t know how I am.”
“I’m so sorry….”
I tapped the ring on the table. “You said the same thing on Sunday morning. Only you said, ‘I’m so sorry about you and Marcus.’”
Hope’s body jutted forward as if she were struggling against the current of all that water flowing under the bridge….
“So you thought that he was going to break up with me and…” I shut my eyes in pain. “You must have said something to Manda because she and Shea had actually bet on it!” I rolled forward and rubbed my head into the couch cushions. “Ooooohhhhhhh.”
“I didn’t say anything to Manda!” Hope said. “She eavesdropped on our conversation….”
I almost bit the pillow in frustration. “So you and Manda and Shea all knew that Marcus wanted to break up with me….”
“But Jess, he didn’t break up with you! He asked you to marry him!”
I sat up. “But the marriage would be null and void, right? Because he’s still married to you!”
Hope stood up straighter, her arms thrust at her sides in defiance. “You can’t possibly be angry about something that happened in fifth grade!”
“Yes I can! And it’s not just the marriage. It’s anything and everything you did together that I didn’t know about. Splitting peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. Putting on backyard puppet shows. Playing spin the bottle. Whatever! It doesn’t matter. But what does matter is that you never told me that you had once been close to the man who is supposed to be the love of my life!”
“I don’t see why this matters.”
“It matters because when it came down to choosing to confide in you or me, he chose you. Which means that your relationship must run pretty deep.”
Hope didn’t disagree.
“What if you had never moved? How do I know that he wouldn’t have ended up with you?”
“I didn’t want him!”
“But did he want you?”
Hope paused for a moment before answering, “No.” That seemingly insignificant silence contained the truth. And she knew it, too.
“Yes he did,” I said. “At one time he must have.”
Were you friends with Heath to get closer to Hope? Is that why you spent so many afternoons getting high in Heath’s room?
Hope didn’t refute it. “I’m sorry….”
“I know you are,” I said, standing up. “And I’m sorry that I’m still angry at you.”
Hope lowered