Tiffany leaves me at eleven o' clock on Tuesday.
We wait together on the front porch with Tiffany's packed suitcase at our feet. I knew she would go. I knew it last night the moment she suggested the possibility. She'll be back. I know that, but I also know she's checking out her options. Tiffany, Maria, and I, we really only have each other and we must look out for one another, but I realize that also, at the same time, we must look out for ourselves. I understand why Maria left. I don't blame her. I don't want her to become like me either. Like me or Tiffany. There is hope for Maria. Maria can be saved.
At exactly eleven on the dot, Tyler's Firebird pulls into the driveway. He's taking Tiffany to the Strathmoore to meet Maria and Aunt Mira. I should be driving her. I should have offered. I think everyone knows why I didn't. I said goodbye to Maria once, and once was enough. If I see her again, I may change my mind. I may not let her go. I understand that's why Maria left last night. She knew if given the chance, I might talk her out of leaving. Maria is smart. I think she may be smarter than us all.
Tiffany and I watch Tyler load Tiffany's suitcase into the trunk.
"You know I'm coming back," Tiffany tells me for probably the fiftieth time.
I nod. "I know."
"Are you sure you don't want to come? I'm sure Aunt Mira can get you a seat. Maybe not on our flight, but you'll get there just the same."
I shake my head. I can't leave. Not yet. There's too much left to do. I can't run when I've not finished what I've started here. I have repairs to make, repairs to myself and to other people, to what I've done to them. Someday, maybe, I can leave. But not today.
"I'll miss you," Tiffany tells me. She hugs me close. "You'll be all right, won't you?"
"Yes, yes," I say and hug her back. "Take care of Maria. Watch out for her. Make sure they're actually good people."
"I will," TIffany promises. "And when I come back things will be different. We'll make them different. They'll be better."
I close my eyes and hug her tighter still. I hope so. I hope so.
"I'm sorry for everything," TIffany says.
"I'm sorry, too."
"It'll be a new year when I come back. A fresh start," TIffany reminds me. "I love you, Shannon. You're my sister."
"You're my sister, too," I reply. It means so much more underneath the surface. "And I love you."
TIffany squeezes my shoulders and releases me. She steps back and smiles. Then she turns and starts down the front steps. She walks away. But at least I know she's coming back. Tiffany waves before ducking inside Tyler's car. I wave back. I manage to smile. I manage to feel happy over my sadness. I have to think of my sisters instead of myself. Maybe this - whatever this turns out to be - is not the answer, and then, maybe it is. I don't know. I don't think Aunt Mira knows either. But she's trying, trying like I once tried and failed. I know we're lucky that she's taking a chance on us at all. She knows all these things about Tiffany and I, all these horrid, wicked things we've done. Aunt Mira knows and she's still concerned, still interested in helping us work out a solution. That counts for something. It must.
I'm still waving as Tyler's Firebird disappears around the corner. I stand for a while and stare at nothing, just the empty road. Then I sit down on the top step, cold beneath my jeans. All the snow has melted and now the air is simply chilled and biting. More snow will come in a couple days. It's a snowy December. Perhaps, that's fitting. Across the street, the Stevensons' house is dark and deserted. I wonder when they'll be home. I wonder how things will be when they return. Not everything is easy to piece back together, not everything falls effortlessly back into place. Time will tell. I wish it were more simple than that. A breeze picks up, cool and subtle. It blows against the side of my face, rustling my hair, whispering in my ear. I wrap my arms around my knees and look out at the neighborhood. No one is out. Everything is still and quiet. I realize I'm all alone. And I don't care.
Nothing will ever be the same again.
But I already knew that.
Nothing is ever the same. We change, in an instant or gradually. It can be fast like catching afire and flaming into something new, burning down and burning out. It can be slow, creeping and methodical, unnoticed until the end when it is too late. The old Shannon is gone. She will never return. I will see glimpses of her the rest of my life, glimpses within myself, but I will never capture her. I am a new Shannon, broken and damaged. A new Shannon for a new life.
I watch Elizabeth's roadster roll down the street and into her drive. Kristy's new Jeep is nowhere in sight. I watch Elizabeth climb out of the car and brush something off the front of her tan slacks, then she walks around to the trunk and pops it open. I am picking up the pieces of my shattered self, piecing and gluing a new Shannon together. She may always be damaged, but she does not have to be broken. She does not have to be empty. I rise from the top step and begin across my yard, arms folded tight over my chest, the breeze still blowing my hair. I walk briskly, a girl on a mission, a girl whose resolve may falter at any moment. I did it with Kristy, I did it with Mrs. Bryar, and even though she came to me, I did it with Anna. I can do it with Elizabeth, too.
"Do you want some help?" I ask, stopping beside the open trunk.
Elizabeth's bent inside, cramming spilled groceries back inside their bags. She turns her head and looks up at me. "If you want," she replies. "I only have these three bags though."
"I'll carry one," I say.
Elizabeth lifts a bag out of the trunk and presses it into my arms. I stand, holding it, watching her gather the last scattered cans. Then she removes the other two bags, balancing them in one arm while closing the trunk with her opposite hand. She begins up the driveway and I follow.
"Where's Kristy?" I ask.
"She took Mary Anne for a drive in the Jeep," Elizabeth answers as we come into the garage. The garage is littered with open, half-filled boxes. The Brewers must be doing some sort of after-Christmas cleaning. "I'm glad Kristy and Mary Anne have become such good friends again. They've spent a lot of time together these last few weeks."
"Yeah, Mary Anne's nice," I say for lack of anything better. I haven't wondered too much about Mary Anne lately. She's slipped my mind like so many other people and things. "How is Mary Anne?" I ask Elizabeth.
"She seems fine," Elizabeth says, leading us into the kitchen. She sets her bags on the table and begins unpacking them.
I wonder if Mary Anne can possibly really be fine. I'm not fine and I chose, more or less, what happened to me.
"Watson and Charlie volunteered to make dinner tonight. I promised to do all the shopping since they're doing all the cooking," Elizabeth says, still stacking cans and boxes onto the table. She's doing what she did yesterday, making light and meaningless conversation. It's odd that I once considered the Thomas-Brewers my surrogate family. It's odd that I once considered Elizabeth more than a neighbor.
"Maria left," I tell her, plunging right in. I can't take any more polite conversation. "So did Tiffany. They're going to Evanston with our aunt."
"I know," Elizabeth replies. "Until she called, I didn't even realize you have an aunt. Why didn't you go with them?"
I shrug.
"Self-imposed exile?"
"Maybe."
Elizabeth offers a half-smile, then turns and begins putting groceries away in the refrigerator. She isn't pushing. Why isn't she pushing?
"I don't think Maria's coming back," I say. I pick up a bag of apples and tear open the plastic. I stack the apples in the fruit bowl on the table.
Elizabeth shuts the refrigerator door and turns around. "Well...maybe it's best that she start over somewhere else. We'll miss her around here though. She's a sweet girl."
"She may not stay that way if she comes back," I admit. It hurts to admit it, to speak it aloud.
"You're still a nice girl, Shannon," Elizabeth tells me.
"I thought I was a spiteful little witch."
"I shouldn't have said that to you," Elizabeth says with a frown, folding one of the paper bags in half. "Even if it was true at the time. You were being spiteful. You were acting like a little witch. Perhaps, I should have been more understanding though. I know you were heartbroken, but then, so was I." Elizabeth's frown deepens and she spins around, so I no longer can see her face.
"I shouldn't have said what I said either. I'm sorry, Elizabeth. It was spiteful. I knew what I was doing. I wanted to hurt you."
"I understand," Elizabeth says. She lifts the black and white-checked teapot off the stove and fills it with water. "Would you like some tea, Shannon?" she asks.
"Yes, please," I reply and slide onto one of the benches and fold my hands in my lap. I watch Elizabeth some more. She turns on the burner and sets the teapot over it. She keeps her back to me. Maybe it's easier talking to her back. "I shouldn't have told you about Sam," I say, quickly, getting it over with.
Elizabeth doesn't turn around. "No...you should have told me. Or Janet should have. I understand why you didn't and I understand why she didn't either. I am sorry for what Sam did to Tiffany. I can't tell you how sorry I am or how disappointed. It's difficult to admit to being disappointed in your own child and I've been disappointed for a long time. I suppose it was simply easier and more convenient to blame Janet. I realize that now." Elizabeth finally turns around. She leans back against the counter, resting her hands on its edge. "I'm not perfect, Shannon, even though I suspect you think that I believe I am. I know you think I'm self-righteous. Perhaps, I am. I can't help the way I am, Shannon."
I nod. "I know," I say, quietly. "I realize...I realize now that you never meant to ruin my life."
"I don't think your life is ruined. You're only seventeen," Elizabeth replies. "But you are right in that I never intended to ruin it. I didn't enjoy what happened to you. Not at all. It hurts that you would ever think that. I was concerned because I care about you. I wanted to help and perhaps, I could have done things differently. I don't know. I don't know what the correct solution was. I did what I thought best. I was very frustrated, Shannon. You wouldn't listen and your mother refused to return my calls and your father...your father actually seemed amused by the situation."
"Did he tell you about his high school girlfriend?"
"Yes, he did. And the next time I see her, I'm congratulating her for beating him up. Someone needs to smack some sense into him again," Elizabeth replies. Behind her, the teapot whistles. She removes it from the burner. "I did what I thought best," Elizabeth says again, back to me, reaching into a cabinet for two mugs. "That's all I can say." Elizabeth brings the mugs of hot water over to the table. She sets one in front of me. It has a rainbow on one side and Karen on the other. Elizabeth brings over a canister of tea bags and I pick through them until I find the jasmine tea. It's the last one. I peel off the paper and dip the tea bag into the steaming water. I watch the water slowly turn brown, darker and darker, spreading out, consuming the clearness.
"He would have found out sooner or later," I say, dully, staring down at the tea. I swirl my bag around. "Probably sooner. It could have been worse." I bite my lip, so I won't laugh. It could have been worse! How is that possible? My almost laugh turns to almost tears.
"It's completely over then?"
I nod.
Elizabeth sits down across from me. She picks out a tea bag. Apple cinnamon. She dips the tea bag into her mug. "And how do you feel about that?" she asks me.
I shrug because I really don't know. I don't know how I feel about much of anything anymore. "Sometimes I'm okay with it. And sometimes I miss him," I admit. I blow on my tea and take a sip.
"Do you know his mother?" I ask.
"I know who she is. I think I've met her a few times. But no, I don't know her. I'd never met him until that day at his apartment. Why?"
I shrug again. "No reason," I lie. I won't tell Elizabeth about the abortion. Maybe at some past point I would have, but like with Anna, our relationship has changed. It's brittle and unsteady. It could shatter to dust at any moment. We aren't the same. Things between us aren't the same. There's only so much I can reveal in this moment, only so much I can hear myself say.
We're quiet for a few seconds, then Elizabeth speaks. "I'm pleased that you and Kristy patched things up," she tells me. "She was so upset about everything. She worried about you a lot and missed you. So did I."
"Kristy's a good friend," I say and take a small sip of my tea. "I don't think I ever realized."
Elizabeth smiles slightly. "She tries, but like me, she doesn't always choose the best way to go about things. She means well. She would never intentionally hurt you, Shannon, just like I would not. I hope you understand that."
"I do."
"I'm glad you realize that, Shannon. I really am." Elizabeth reaches out and puts her hand on mine. It's a nice gesture coming from Elizabeth, who isn't very affectionate, not even with her own children, and especially not with me. "And next time, Shannon, I promise to try to be more understanding. We must learn from our mistakes."
Yes, we must.
The door from the garage bangs open and Elizabeth draws her hand back. Kristy appears in the kitchen dressed in the striped sweater I gave her for Christmas and what looks like brand new dark brown cords. Mary Anne's with her. She looks much better than when I saw her last. The bruise has disappeared. Whatever bruises Mr. Marshall left are unseen. Mary Anne looks like any other girl in her white parka and a pink and white-striped sweater. She and Kristy both have their hair pulled back in tight ponytails. It's strange how much they look alike when standing side by side.
"Hi, Shannon," Kristy greets me.
"Hi, Kristy. Hi, Mary Anne."
Mary Anne looks at me without expression. "Hello, Shannon," she says.
"Hi, girls," Elizabeth greets them and rises from the table. She crosses to the stove. "Would you like some tea?"
"No thanks, Mom. We wanted to get some sodas, then we're going up to my room to listen to the tapes I got for Christmas. Do you want to come up with us, Shannon?"
I glance over at Mary Anne. Her face is still void of expression, but I know she doesn't want me along. We covered something up together and now she wishes for me to disappear, too. That is a consequence for what we did. Maybe I should have listened to Abby. Maybe Abby was right all along.
"No thanks. I have to get home."
Kristy raises an eyebrow. "Why?" she asks.
"Kristy!" Elizabeth exclaims.
Kristy blushes slightly. "Well, I mean, aren't your sisters gone? Maria called David Michael this morning. Stay here with us. You shouldn't be at home alone. We can hang out. When Mr. Spier gets home from work, he's giving Mary Anne her first night driving lesson. Afterward, he promised to take us out for pizza. You can come, too. Don't worry, Mary Anne's not too horrible of a driver. She only hit Janine Kishi that one time. She hasn't hit anyone since."
"Yeah, come along," Mary Anne says in a rather flat voice. "We can have a pizza toast."
Kristy throws her head back and laughs.
Mary Anne's invitation isn't very welcoming. I don't exactly blame her.
"No thanks. Greer's coming home today. We're going to hang out," I tell them. It's not completely a lie. Greer is returning from her long weekend in New York, but we haven't actually made plans. Although she's called several times, I haven't spoken to her since Thursday evening.
"Oh...okay," Kristy says, hesitantly. She isn't sure whether or not to believe me. "I'll call you tonight though. Maybe I can come over or something."
"Okay."
Kristy hesitates a moment, then nudges Mary Anne in the arm. They cross the kitchen to the refrigerator and choose their sodas from inside the door. Then Kristy grabs a plate of frosted sugar cookies off the counter.
"We'll be upstairs if you change your mind," she tells me.
"Okay," I say. "I'll see you later, Kristy. Bye, Mary Anne."
"Bye, Shannon," Mary Anne replies without glancing over her shoulder.
When they're gone, Elizabeth comes back to the table. "You should go upstairs with them," she says. "You need your friends. It'll be good for you. You shouldn't sit around your house alone."
"I won't," I assure her and take the last sip of my tea. It's lukewarm now. It doesn't taste very good. "At least not all the time. Thank you for the tea, Elizabeth. And thank you...for everything. Thank you for trying to help."
Elizabeth smiles. "Thank you for coming over, Shannon. Come back tonight and have dinner with us. You're always welcome."
I set my mug down and hesitate. We have to begin somewhere. I have to begin again. "Okay. I'll come for dinner. I'd like that." I smile at her.
Elizabeth walks me to the front door. She pats my back before I step over the threshold. I apologize again. She apologizes, too. And I think we're done with our apologies. I think we're starting over. Starting over clean-slated.
I'm amazed that so many people are willing to give me that courtesy.
I return to my empty house. Astrid's asleep at the foot of the stairs. I step over her and walk up the stairs. I pause in Maria's doorway, looking in at her room, at all the things she left behind. Left them behind like she left me. I lean my head against the door frame. I stand and stare a long time. I don't cry. Maybe I am out of tears. Maybe that's a sign that I am ready to move on, that things are about to improve. No more tears, no more selfishness, no more feeling sorry for myself.
I leave Maria's doorway and pass Tiffany's room. I glance in, but am not as sad. Tiffany is coming back. She's coming back for certain. Maybe she won't leave again. Maybe she'll stay here with me. I can hope.
The message light flashes on my answering machine. Sometimes I see it and feel a little jolt. I remember how it used to be, whose messages used to wait for me. I don't expect them anymore. Not really. Maybe that's another sign. Another sign of moving on and letting go. I press the play button and wait for the messages to click on.
"Hello, hello," Greer's voice fills the empty space in my room. "We got in from New York about an hour ago. I'm exhausted! Where are you? How are you? I haven't spoken to you in forever and a day. Are you asleep? If you're asleep, why hasn't this message woken you up yet? Well, I'll try back in another hour or so. I hope you're doing all right."
Greer hangs up and the second message clicks on.
"Hello, Starshine," drones Sally White's monotone. "Where are you? I'm home now. We just got back...oh, twenty minutes ago. Why aren't you waiting by the phone for my call? I am disappointed, Starshine. Have you spoken to Greer? Because there's something I'd like to tell you: Greer Carson is a moron. If you speak to her, please tell her I said that. Thank you."
Sally hangs up and the final message comes on. It's Sally again. "I realized I forgot to ask how you are," she says. "Please call me back and tell me." She hangs up again.
The messages end. I smile as I erase them. I'll return the calls in a while. For now, I wrap my arms around myself and walk back downstairs. It's cold in my house. I go into Dad's study and turn on the heater. Then I go into the kitchen and pour a glass of grape juice. I need to eat lunch. I make a ham and swiss sandwich with mayo and pickles. It tastes delicious and I almost eat it all.
I carry the remainder of my juice around the downstairs. I look at my house and wonder how it will feel without Tiffany and Maria. Empty, like this, I guess. And when Tiffany returns and Maria does not, I wonder how that will feel. I think of that, sadly, as I walk through the house.
I stop at the window in the dining room. Kitty-corner, I see Kristy's new Jeep parked behind Elizabeth's roadster. Then across the street, Mrs. Stevenson's minivan is now parked in her driveway. The Stevenson have returned from the Hamptons. My sisters have left, but everyone else has come home. I gulp down the rest of my juice and watch through the curtains. Slowly like a trickle, everything falls back down, back into place, slightly disjointed, not quite the same, but with an effort we will fit together again.
Maybe.
I hope.