Wherever You Go Read Online Free Page B

teenage daughter is the only caregiver here in the house—"
    "What do you want me to do? Quit both my jobs?" Mom said, her voice loud, angry.
    "No, no. I'm just saying that it's a lot for Holly to shoulder. Here she is, a teenager on a Friday night making dinner for everyone instead of going out with friends."
    "It's fine," I said, my lips tight. "I didn't have plans or anything."
    Ms. Granger gave me a sympathetic smile. "You should know, as Aldo's disease progresses—"
    "We're all going to pitch in to keep him well," Mom said, her voice shaking.
    "Yes, I hear that you want to do that. But as his condition worsens, so will his needs. Holly, can you handle all this stress?"
    "I'm good at holding things together," I said.
    My mom shot me a look that I couldn't quite decipher. "The bottom line is, we're going to be fine here."
    Ms. Granger dabbed at her lips with her napkin and then set it on the table beside her plate. She fished a card from her pocket and slid it across the table to my mom. "Julia, I think your intentions are good, and I'll do what I can to help youhei to hel if you ask. I promise you that."
    Mom didn't touch the card. It lay there, unwelcome, near her water glass.
    "Now, unfortunately, I'm expected at another home visit, so I need to get going," Ms. Granger said. "Thank you again for a wonderful dinner, Holly."
    "Sure," I said.
    "Aldo, you take care, now. I'll see you at the center next week. Nice meeting you, girls."
    My mom stood up and walked her out. I heard them whispering and then the door shutting.
    "Why was she saying Holly can't do it alone?" my sister said as Mom came back to the table.
    "Don't worry about that," Mom answered. "Why don't you finish your broccoli?"
    "She meant that we're all going to need to help out," I said.
    "Holly..." Mom sighed, staring at me for a long moment. Then she got up and started to clear the dishes from the table. That was odd—but having her there through a whole dinner was odd.
    When Mom did eat with us, she was usually grabbing something quickly, rushing out the door, the scent of her floral perfume trailing behind her, proof that she'd been there. Often I would wake in the middle of the night, listening for the sound of the turning lock and the door opening, followed by the sound of keys hitting the bowl in the hallway. And then I could close my eyes again, knowing that we were all safe.
    I sat there at the kitchen table, forcing down the rest of my mashed potatoes and watching Mom at the sink. She loaded the dishwasher slowly, setting each plate in a deliberate place, nestling each cup in the wire rack like it was precious. When she reached under the sink to grab dishwasher soap from the cabinet, she came up empty but then, muttering a swear word, found where it lived on the other side.
    "Is there cake?" chirped Grandpa.
    Lena bounced in her chair. "Yeah, can we have cake?"
    "Maybe," I said, taking a last bite of chicken.
    When she was done with her task except for my dishes, Mom dried her hands on a dishtowel and left the kitchen, probably to change for work. She didn't look back at us. At me.
    I didn't know what to make of that, except that maybe Ms. Granger made her realize this was just going to get harder for all of us, that Grandpa was going to get worse. Or maybe she was mad that I'd moved the dishwasher soap and forgotten to tell her.
    It occurred to me that part of us not discussing things was about her making me have to guess all the time. Decipher her intentions, figure out her moods. Maybe to her there was some comfort in letting people guess what you think, what you feel. Maybe even some control in keeping stuff tlatping sto yourself. If it was up to me, I'd rather have the plain old truth.
    The faucet in the sink was dripping in a steady
tink-tink-tink,
and Lena hopped up to turn it off. "Conserve water," she said in singsong voice.
    Grandpa gave her a pat as she came back to the table. "Good girl."
    I set my plate and silverware in the dishwasher