Page 54 of A Thousand Little Goodbyes

There was no need to say more.That other thingcould easily be code for Scarlett wanting to make a polite escape, but it could also mean any of the rest: the breast cancer, the mastectomy, the fight with Kat, the fact that Scarlett was seeing Mitchell again. There was enough fodder there forthreecross-country road trips.

But “It’s up to River” was what Chrissie said. She turned toward the girl with a determined smile. “If you’d like us to stick around, we’re happy to park in Chicago for as long as you might need us. We won’t leave until you’re ready.”

River leaped to her feet and threw her arms around Chrissie’s neck. It was the fierce, ferocious kind of hug that could only happen after a long and complicated relationship—or after a young woman found a helping hand when she needed it most.

“Thanks for bringing me here. And for doing it without question. There aren’t many people in the world who would do the same.”

“That’s not true.” Chrissie hugged the girl back just as fiercely. “Most of us don’t get the chance, that’s all.”

She had no idea how long they stood in the middle of that kitchen, hugging and delaying their goodbyes, but when they pulled apart again, it was to find that Great-Aunt Rose and Scarlett had discreetly left them to their privacy. Only the cats remained, two of which had returned to the table and were sniffing at the discarded cups of tea.

“Actually, there is one thing you can do for me before you leave.” River gestured toward Chrissie’s purse, which hung from the back of one of the chairs. “Is your list still in there?”

Chrissie blinked. She’d been so sure she was about to be asked for a small loan that it took her a moment to register the remark.

“The one Scarlett’s making me keep? Of course.” She fished outthe crisscrossed slip of paper and handed it to the girl. “Did you want to keep it?”

“No. I want to add to it.” River scrawled a brief sentence before handing the paper back. There, underneath the last item—I don’t have to explain myself to ANYONE—she had added another line:

Your daughter is lucky to have you.

Chrissie felt the tears welling up in her eyes. “Thank you for saying that, but—”

“But nothing. It’s the truth. She might not realize it right now, but she will someday, and she’ll come to you with her heart wide open. I promise you that.”

Chrissie nodded, wishing more than believing this to be true. While she hesitated, River took her lower lip between her teeth and started chewing on one of her piercings. “Can I say one more thing before you go?” she asked and then rushed on without waiting for an answer. “It’s about those pills I saw in Scarlett’s bag the other night.”

Chrissie didn’t realize how hard she’d gripped the back of the chair until she felt her fingernails starting to push back from their beds. “The pills?”

“I’m not a doctor, obviously, and I have no idea what her situation is, but I remember my mom taking a lot of different medications for a lot of different reasons. And those meds…well. Let’s just say they weren’t the ones she was taking when she was trying to get well again.” She paused, and the whole world seemed to pause with her. “I’m so sorry, Chrissie.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I think you should talk to Scarlett,” was all River would say. Considering the way she choked off at the end, it was more than enough. “And the sooner, the better.”

Chapter EighteenPortland, OR

2009

Laurel Sanderson died the same way she lived—quietly and without fuss, her final thoughts centered on the granddaughter she’d dedicated her life to.

“I know it’s small consolation right now, but you won’t have to worry about money for a while.”

Grandma’s estate lawyer, a slip of a woman with the most enormous pair of black-rimmed glasses Scarlett had ever seen, pushed a piece of paper across the dining room table at her. Since Scarlett’s hands were clasped in her lap and seemed inclined to stay that way, Chrissie had to reach for it.

This past week, Chrissie had been doing a lot of things Scarlett couldn’t. She cooked and she cleaned. She made funeral arrangements. She brushed Scarlett’s hair and teeth and forced her into the shower at regular intervals. The first time her friend had made her shower, she’d forgotten to check in and entered the bathroom an hour later to find Scarlett balled up in the tub, shivering as ice-cold water cascaded down her naked body.

“But this is a check for half a million dollars,” Chrissie said as she stared at it. “That can’t be right.”

“I assure you it is. Laurel took out a life insurance policy the same day she was granted custody of Scarlett. She wanted to make sure her granddaughter would be taken care of if anything happened to her.”

Scarlett’s hands remained clenched in her lap, as in stasis as the rest of her.

Grandma is gone. I’m all alone. There’s no one left who’s obligated to love me.

She still had Chrissie, of course. And somewhere out there, the mother who’d given her life. And Mitchell and Grimshaw, not to mention a host of school friends who’d been posting all over Facebook about how sorry they were for her loss. None of them mattered except for Chrissie. If she were to leave, if she were to decide that Scarlett was too much to handle on her own—

“Give half of the money to Chrissie,” Scarlett said. They were the first words she’d spoken in over an hour, so it was understandable that both parties were taken aback.