Whatever Happened to Janie? Read Online Free

make adjustments.”
    Reeve did not want to be an “adjustment” that Janie had to put behind her. He wanted to be her boyfriend. It was his senior year. He had actually given some thought to senior events, like the prom and graduation dinner.
    What were the Springs like? Would they have a sense of humor? Could he call them up and ask if Janie could have a weekend prison pass for the senior prom?
    No, he could not call them up. His marching orders, like Janie’s, were No Communication.
    He thought it would be easier for Janie than for him. She was a little frozen, as if the blizzard of worries had iced her funny laugh and soft skin and adorable smile and—
    Oh, well. Reeve blinked away his fantasies of the rest of her. He had not gotten the rest of her; all plans go astray when somebody turns out to be a kidnap victim.
    A long, low American four-door, black paint job,shaded windows, pulled up the Johnsons’ driveway. Janie might as well be leaving in a hearse.
    I should have made her something, thought Reeve. She doesn’t have anything of me to take with her.
    When I’m finally allowed to call, will I have to call her Jennie? thought Reeve.
    He was suddenly not eager to go outside. He didn’t want to go through this either.
    “Hold the casserole carefully,” instructed his mother. “Tell Janie she’ll want to share the cookies with her new family. Now don’t drop anything. Latch the door so the wind doesn’t get in the house.”
    Sometimes Reeve couldn’t stand women. They were so practical. How could his mother think of drafts and utility bills at a time like this? He turned to tell her for once and for all that he was not going to say good-bye to Janie with a chicken casserole in one hand.
    His mother was weeping.
    It was like a yawn. He caught it; his own tears fell.
    Oh, God, thought Reeve, not a chicken casserole
and
tears.
    “Come with me, Mom,” he said. He realized as soon as he said it that he needed her. Not to carry her dumb casserole, but to carry some of the horror of this. A mother and father were burying their lives. A girl Reeve loved was driving off into the horizon to God knew what.
    Reeve and Mrs. Shields went out of their house and over to the car.
    Janie and Mr. and Mrs. Johnson came out at the same moment.
    Reeve was so pleased to see that the Johnsons looked good. They must have made a monumental effort for Janie. Mrs. Johnson looked lovely in her scarlet suit, with her gold earrings and chains, her hair nicely curled. Mr. Johnson had shaved for the first time in days, and was in a good pair of cords and a new sweater, with a crisp shirt collar sticking up.
    Janie was wearing a heavy coat, hiding her choice of clothing. Janie and Sarah-Charlotte had spent many hours in Janie’s closet, discussing what she should wear to greet the Springs. “What do you think, Reeve?” Janie had asked at last.
    “Clothes,” Reeve had recommended.
    Janie looked beautiful. The chaotic mass of red curls was partially tamed by a hairband. One of the things Reeve had to admit he loved about Janie was that he was so big next to her. Reeve had had but one goal through most of his life: to top six feet. Having made that, he yearned for muscles. Having acquired those, he had at last been willing to consider studying. He was not going to get into the best college in the world, but he looked great.
    “You look great,” whispered Janie.
    She had done a lot of whispering lately. He thought: the Springs will be the next people to hear her laugh. He hoped she would be able to laugh. He hoped she would be all right. He hoped she would remember him and not adjust him away.
    He hugged her. Very unsatisfying. It was aneighborly hug, when what Reeve wanted was—well, forget it. He wasn’t getting that.
    Everybody said good-bye. Everybody was calm. The lawyer shook hands all around. The lawyer opened the passenger door for Janie. Janie looked at the seat as if most people who sat there got electrocuted.
    “Mommy?”