Leaving Blythe River: A Novel Read Online Free Page B

Leaving Blythe River: A Novel
Book: Leaving Blythe River: A Novel Read Online Free
Author: Catherine Ryan Hyde
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paid and tipped the driver. Their doorman came out to help with the luggage, and the cabdriver popped the trunk lid.
    Ethan felt strangely vulnerable to the cold, and as though he were walking in a dream.
    “Thought you were off to Peru,” the doorman said, apparently to Ethan. “Something go wrong?”
    “You might say that. Turns out we were supposed to have paper tickets.”
    “Paper tickets? I didn’t think they even had those anymore!”
    “Neither did we. But I guess we were all wrong.”
    “And the travel agent didn’t tell you that?”
    “We’re not sure. My dad made the arrangements. We couldn’t get him on the phone. He’s not picking up.”
    Ethan felt his mom move close to his side. It was a comforting feeling.
    “Sorry about your trip, Mrs. Underwood,” the doorman said.
    “Thanks. I’m going to go upstairs and kill my husband now. He’s still home, isn’t he? He was home when we left. Did he go out that you know of?”
    “Sorry, Mrs. Underwood,” he said, lifting the last of their bags. He had one over each shoulder, hung by their long leather straps, and now one in each hand. “I just came on shift at midnight.”
    They followed him through the door and across the lobby to the elevator.
    “You can just leave the bags here, Robert. Ethan and I can carry them up.”
    He nodded and tipped his cap to them, and as he walked away the elevator dinged. They dragged their luggage inside.
    Ethan’s mom looked over at him as the doors closed. Pityingly, as though only Ethan were having a bad night.
    “You okay, sweetie?”
    “Yeah. Just sleepy.”
    “I know you’re disappointed.”
    “We’ll still go, though. I mean, if you can get those tickets in time.”
    “You let that be my worry.”
    She stroked his hair back off his forehead, and then the elevator stopped. It made his stomach tip slightly. The elevator always made his stomach tip slightly. It stopped and started too suddenly.
    The doors opened. They hauled their bags a few yards down the hallway to their apartment door.
    “If he’s in there and just vegging out by the TV with his phone turned off, I swear I’ll kill him.”
    She turned the key in the lock and swung the door wide.
    “Oh, good God,” she said. Breathed, really. Just a bare whisper.
    Ethan couldn’t see around her. Couldn’t see what she saw. Without thinking the action through, he put one hand on his mother’s shoulder and pushed her out of the way.
    On the couch he saw his father. And Jennifer. His father was wearing only a short purple silk robe, a robe Ethan was fairly sure belonged to his mother. Jennifer was only wearing one of his father’s big shirts, her long bare legs draped one over the other. They were half sitting, half lying on the couch, Jennifer resting her upper body on Noah’s chest. They were eating something together, something from a bowl. Ice cream, maybe, or yogurt. Noah’s arms wrapped around Jennifer, offering her a spoonful, and she had to take his hand in both of hers to direct the spoon to her mouth.
    They looked up.
    Jennifer jumped to her feet, using her hands to keep the long tails of the shirt in place.
    “Oh my God, oh my God,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
    It was a strange, disjointed thought, but it struck Ethan that if he and his mother had not walked in, Jennifer would be happy. She would be having fun. Having a great night. She would not be sorry. Not at all.
    “I’ll get dressed,” she said, and ran out of the living room, purposely avoiding Ethan’s eyes.
    Ethan felt his mother brush by his shoulder. Watched her stomp down the hallway. He heard a door slam. Hard enough to make him jump. And wince.
    He looked at his father. His father looked at him.
    First there was only silence.
    Then Noah said, simply, “This is embarrassing.”
    But there was a different truth hiding in plain sight in that moment. It was a truth that Ethan would go over time and time again, just underneath the level of his consciousness.

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