The Education of Hailey Kendrick - Eileen Cook [8]
The day my grandparents left, my grandma took me out for lunch so we could have some “girl time.” She told me that my dad was going to be okay, but that he needed my help. It was important that I be very good and not cause him any extra difficulty. I took what she said to heart and set out to be the best kid in the entire country. I made my bed every morning and went to bed promptly at nine thirty without having to be told. I washed my dishes out in the sink and put them in the dishwasher as soon as I finished eating. I flossed every day; I could have been the poster child for the American Dental Association, my teeth were so clean. If my mom had come back to life, she wouldn’t have recognized me.
It was around that time that I started collecting information and statistics on risk factors, and avoided anything that I deemed too dangerous. It was like what happened with my mom opened my eyes to just how easy it was for something bad to happen. I wanted to create a safety net out of rules and systems. If I did everything right, then I could keep anything horrible from ever happening again.
The spring after she died I was mastering how to cook. Ms. Lindsey, the nanny, was teaching me the basics. After school she and I would make something together, and then all I had to do was heat it up for dinner.
I remember very clearly when the next ball dropped. I was sure my dad would say something about that night’s dinner choice. I’d made a homemade green chicken curry. Thai food had always been his favorite. I placed the dish down in front of him and managed to hold in my desire to say Ta-da!
“I’ve got some good news,” he said, shoveling a bite into his mouth.
I plunked down in my chair and inhaled the smell of the curry. I was hoping my dad was going to say something about summer vacation plans, since everyone I knew had exciting things lined up already.
“I’ve been checking around, and your grandma put in some calls to work her magic,” he said, drawing out the suspense.
Maybe we would all rent a beach house on the Outer Banks together like we had years before. We could meet the boats when they came in and buy shrimp by the bucket. I could show my grandparents how I had learned to cook, and my dad could sit on the beach all day reading mystery novels. My dad would call me his Spanish peanut because my skin would turn a reddish brown from all the sun. I would sleep so well because of the sound of the waves outside that I wouldn’t even notice all the sand in my bed or that my mom wasn’t with us. I knew if we could only keep busy, then there wouldn’t be time to let how different things were sink in. A new location meant Dad and I might not keep bumping into things that reminded us of her. I was so busy imagining the taste of salt water and burnt marshmallows that it took my brain a second to understand what my dad actually said.
“Boarding school?” I repeated, my fork falling onto the plate.
“Evesham Academy. It’s one of the most elite schools in the country.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
He laughed. “It’s in Vermont.”
“We’re moving to Vermont?” My brain was still scrambling to catch up. I’d left it down on the beach in North Carolina, and I couldn’t make sense of anything.
“It’s a boarding school. I think I’m a bit too old to fit in.” He gave a forced chuckle. “It will be a great experience for you and set you up to go to any college in the country.”
“I don’t want to live in Vermont.”
“You’ve never been to Vermont,” my dad pointed out. Like a person has to go somewhere to know if they would like it or not. If he told me that we were moving to hell, would I have to stop by and take a tour before I decided if it was too hot for my taste? Parent logic doesn’t always make sense.
“But I like living here.”
My dad took my hand and held