Page 106 of Gone Tonight
I hold my breath as I knock on the door.
It takes June only a minute to answer, but it feels like a lifetime. She’s already dressed in a lime-green pantsuit and has on rosy lipstick. At least I haven’t awoken her.
When I see her genuinely warm smile, some of the crushing weight on my shoulders falls away. If she and George had noticed their car was missing, she wouldn’t appear so carefree.
“Twice in two days!” she exclaims. “What a treat!”
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” I tell her. “I can’t seem to find my phone, and I’m wondering if I left it here last night.”
“Oh, dear, I didn’t see it, but you’re welcome to look around.”
It’s as simple as that. As June begins to lead me into the living room, I slip the keys back into the bowl.
They make a clanking sound as they land.
Thinking quickly, I put my hand in the bowl as June turns around.
“Not here,” I say, feigning disappointment.
I step into the living room. Since I didn’t even sit down, there aren’t many logical places to check.
The only items on the coffee table are a stack of magazines and a device that looks like a computer mouse, which is the blood sugar monitor June uses to manage her diabetes. Still, I pretend to search, even ducking down to check under the coffee table.
“I don’t see it,” I finally say.
“Oh, I’m sorry. There’s nothing more frustrating than losing your phone, is there?”
The kindness in June’s voice intensifies my guilt. She and George are the closest thing I have to grandparents. They even gave me a card and a generous check when I graduated college.
I look down to avoid her eyes and see there’s a pristine white test strip in the end of the blood sugar monitor. June must have been about to check her glucose levels when I interrupted her.
“Can I help you with this?” I ask, wanting both to do something for her and to change the subject.
I take the monitor and reach for June’s index finger, pricking it with the lancet before touching the drop of blood to the white test strip, like I’ve done hundreds of times before. Like most diabetics, June keeps her insulin pens in her refrigerator, but I don’t need to get her a dose right now. Her levels are good.
I hope the distraction will change the course of our conversation, but the next thing June says is, “Do you want me to call you and we can listen for the ring?”
I suck in a breath. My phone is in my purse, and I don’t know if it’s set to vibrate.
“You know what? I just remembered—I’m pretty sure I left it charging upstairs in the break room last night.” I back away.
“Okay, sweetie. And remember, you promised us that glass of wine. Want to come by tonight?”
I’m at the door now.
Her question throws me. If James isn’t caught, my mother and I will have to sleep at Sunrise again. I can’t tell June I have other plans because she could easily spot me on the grounds this evening.
“Um, I-I may have to work through dinner.…” I hedge. Before June can reply, I quickly hug her and slip out.
I’m so rattled I have to stand in the hallway for several moments to compose myself.
As my anxiety recedes, anger rushes in to take its place. My mother did all of this to me. Because of her choices, my work situation and the relationships I’ve built here are so tangled up that I might not ever be able to straighten them out. Surely Tin will be perplexed—maybe highly annoyed, too—when I tell her I’m moving to Baltimore after all.
I think of the other relationships my mother has destroyed on my behalf. With Ethan, for one. He wasn’t the right guy for me, but shouldn’tIhave been the one to decide that?
My anger mounts.
I haven’t been eating much or sleeping well, and my body feels simultaneously jittery and heavy. I desperately want a shower and a hot meal and to rest in my own bed, but I can’t do that either.
