Chapter 2
Gone

SUNDAY, JULY 20, 2014 | 8 AM

The first thing I do when I wake the next morning is check the notifications on my phone; Tobias usually sends me a sweet little good morning text. But the last message I have from him was from yesterday morning, before we met at the park; he didn't text me goodnight last night, either. I frown. Maybe he's sleeping in today. I send him a quick text: [Good morning, I hope you slept well. I love you. 3]

The whole family attends church together, and I can tell it makes Mom really happy. Caleb always goes with her, and I do more often than not, too. But even when Dad is home, he rarely joins us. When we get home, Caleb and I silently prepare Sunday dinner together: roasted chicken, steamed vegetables, and mashed potatoes. Mom likes to have our main meal midday on Sundays—a tradition she carried over from her own childhood—then something light and easy, like sandwiches, in the evening, usually while we watch a movie or play a board game. I always enjoy those times with my mom and brother, I look forward to it each week.

I set the table as Caleb transfers all the food to serving dishes. When we are all seated around the table, first we bless the meal. Then Dad looks down at his plate and back up, frowning. "Beatrice," he scolds, "how many times must I tell you the same thing? The knives are facing the wrong direction." I look down at my own silverware and see that the cutting edge of my butter knife faces the spoon instead of the plate, and I bite my cheek. Stupid, I chastise myself. I can't even set the table right. How hard can it be to remember something like this?

"I'll remember next time," I eek out. My father nods as he spoons potatoes onto his plate; I give myself small servings of each dish when they are passed to me. Dad gets mad if I overserve myself and don't finish what I have put on my plate, so I am careful not to take too much. I look up and see Mom smiling at me reassuringly.

Dad turns his attention to my brother now. "How is your internship at Erudite Tech, Caleb?"

"It's been great, Dad, I'm learning so much," Caleb gushes. "And they've been giving me more responsibility this week in the labs." I pick at my food and tune out Caleb's bragging and Dad's proud questions and responses. I'm so zoned out that I startle slightly when Mom reaches out from beside me and rests her hand on top of mine on the table. I meet her eyes and she squeezes my hand lovingly.

After Caleb and I finish the dishes, I check my phone, my eyes scanning right past the text from my friend Susan, frowning when I see that Tobias still hasn't responded to my text. I am walking up the stairs toward my room, about to call him, when Mom stops me.

"Beatrice, we need to speak with you and Caleb in the living room." Something in her eyes tells me not to stall, so I turn my phone off and stick it in the back pocket of my shorts. I follow her to the living room and find that Caleb is already sitting on the couch. Dad is in his armchair and Mom sits down next to him, in her own.

They just stare at us for a long, dragging moment then look at each other. Dad raises his hand palm up, telling Mom to go ahead, so I look to her. Her forehead is creased and the corners of her mouth pull downward.

"Beatrice, Caleb… you may have noticed that I have been struggling to keep up with things that used to be routine," she says slowly. I nod and see Caleb doing the same in my peripheral vision. "I went to the doctor last week, and they sent me to the hospital for further tests."

Before the next words even leave her mouth, I want to cover my ears and squeeze my eyes shut and sing loud enough to drown it out. I want to go back to that moment with Tobias today, and stay in it forever just like he wanted. But that isn't the way life works, and drowning out my mother's words wouldn't stop them from being true. So I listen with my stomach dropping through the floor and my pulse pounding in my ears in increasing volume.

Mom's voice shakes. "I have ovarian cancer."

We sit in shock for seconds, minutes, I don't know. I don't know how long I sit there just staring at the pattern of the tile surface of the coffee table, the words echoing in my head but seemingly beyond my comprehension.

"How advanced is it?" Caleb asks, his voice raspy.

"Stage four," Mom says. "It's spread to my liver. I'm going to fight it, but…" she leans forward and takes my hand in her left and Caleb's in her right. "The odds aren't good."

I can no longer make out the pattern of the tile; my vision has become too blurry. "How long?" I say quietly. "How long do they say you have?"

"Six months at best."

All at once a sob rips through me. I am on my feet in a moment, running to my mother so fast that I bump my knee on the coffee table, and fling myself into her arms. I sob into her shoulder as I hug her as tight as I can, letting her comfort me with her hand stroking my hair and comforting whispers.

"I'll take a year off, Harvard will be there next year," Caleb says firmly.

"No, you won't," Dad barks. It's the first time he's spoken in all this. "Your future is too important. You can't be sure they'll accept you next year."

"Yes, you go, dear," Mom says. "Don't stay here for me."

Caleb nods and I glare at him; I swear he looks relieved. But deep down I know that they're probably right. And he can skype or Facetime.

I sit in my mother's lap, like a child, for a long time, even after Caleb and Dad have gotten up and left the room.

SUNDAY, JULY 20, 2014 | 11 PM

This is Tobias. I can't answer right now but you know what to do. BEEP

"Tobias? I haven't heard from you all day and I really need to talk to you right now… I got some really bad news and just… I… I need you. Please call me. I love you." I sigh as I end the call. It's now eleven o'clock at night and I just want Tobias. I've tried calling at least a dozen times, texted several more, and nothing. Where is he?!

Mom and Dad went to bed an hour ago, Caleb is in his room doing who knows what. I pace back and forth in my room feeling like I am drowning in the panic and despair and the only thing that can calm me right now is Tobias.

I remember that his dad left the day before yesterday for a business trip and won't be back for another week. I abruptly stop my pacing. My hand darts to my desk and I grab my keys, throwing my purse over my shoulder as I hurry down the hall, down the stairs, out the front door to my car. I speed down the street to Tobias's house.

He lives only about ten blocks away, so I'm there in minutes. The house is dark, and his truck isn't here. I sit with my forehead resting on my steering wheel; I don't know what to do.

I can't go home, I just cannot be there right now. I can't stand it. I don't know where my boyfriend is, I'm not ready to talk about this with any of my other few friends. So… I'll just wait for him.

I sit in the car for about fifteen minutes before I decide to wait for him in his room; he won't mind finding me in his bed when he gets back from wherever he is. I move the rock in the backyard where the key to the backdoor hides. I put it back after I unlock the door, then tiptoe up to his room.

But once I turn on the lamp, I freeze. His room looks completely different than the last time I was here.

The pictures… are gone. The painting I made for him of the ferris wheel… gone. His mother's sculpture, the one she gave him months before she left… is gone.

My breaths get faster and I begin to feel lightheaded as I rip open drawers to find them empty.

I cannot deny what is right in front of me. I am full on hyperventilating now, black spots dotting my vision as I sink to the floor in a mess of tears and gasping breaths.

He's gone.