"He said she had some pot before they started out. but he thought it had worn off."
I stopped walking. "You know what people do with situations like this. Wally?"
He shook his head.
"They go into self-denial. They actually lie to themselves so they won't feel bad. Or they look far someone else to blame. Randy's death is too heavy, even for someone as self-centered as Phoebe. If Roger asks about me again, you can tell him I'm fine. I didn't give Phoebe her way, and I'm not just as much at fault. Think you could remember all that?"
He looked as if he was going to cry. He nodded.
"Months from now when she's back behind the wheel of the new car she talked her father into buying for her and you're in the backseat, remember that," I said, and pivoted quickly to leave him behind. Fury gave wings to my feet. I walked and walked until I decided to catch a bus and go home.
Mommy was there. She had just returned from the hospital where she had been keeping Dallas and Warren company. "Phoebe's going to be all right," she told me. It will be a long recuperation after which they will have to consider some cosmetic surgery. Warren's going to open the restaurant tomorrow. It's best that everyone get back to being normal and occupied. How were things at school?"
"Dreary," I said.
"Here I was hoping I had taken us from all the sadness and depression into a bright new world..." She shook her head.
"Maybe we can't get away from it." I said bitterly, "Maybe it will be with us for the rest of our lives, or at least with me."
"What kind of talk is that. Grace?"
"Realistic." I said, and went to my bedroom. I threw myself on the bed and buried my face in the pillow. Was it my imagination, or was it true that everyone with whom I had come into some close contact suffered soon afterward, from Autumn to Augustus to Randy? Somewhere deep in the back of my mind I could see that sea gull twisting in the air, turning as if in distress and pain, flying off just before Daddy left on his training mission, the mission that would end with his death. Could someone have a curse on him or her? Was I a Jonah, always bringing bad vibes to people I cared for or became close friends with?
Maybe I should become friends only with the people I don't like, I thought.
Mommy knocked on my door. "Grace?" I turned and looked at her.
"I don't like you talking like that. honey. I know you're hurting for your friend, but you can't beat up on yourself. That won't help. It just makes it all harder for everyone."
"I can't help how I feel. Mommy."
"I know. I just spoke with Winston. He feels terrible for us, and he's coming over in an hour to take us both out to dinner."
"I don't want to go," I said sullenly.
"Please. Grace. I won't have a good time knowing you're home pouting and sulking. We have to go on and try to find some enjoyment in life, too. I'm not going to let this conti
nue," she said firmly.
I looked up at her. "What continue?"
"This downward spiral, this streak of bad luck and gloom. We don't deserve it."
"Randy didn't deserve to die."
"Of course not, but we can't change what happened, and it does him no good for us, for you, to let it bring you farther and further down. Fate will not have its way with us." she vowed. "Now put on something bright and joyful, and let's bring some sunshine back into our lives."
"I can't," I wailed.
"Grace." She stood there, her arms at her sides, her hands clenched in fists. "How do you think I do it? How do you think I woke up the morning after your father was killed and continued? I felt as if my insides had been kicked out. I wanted to jump into that grave with him. It would have been so much easier to pull the blanket over my head and deny, deny. deny. But life won't let you do that. Grace. And we're not going to be losers and sufferers forever." she declared.
"Now you get up and join me and Winston, and you look at the world again, and you learn to take advantage of every opportunity, every blessing, every little stroke of luck that comes your way. Our days of sacrifice and pain are coming to an end." she predicted.
I stared at her. I had been holding my breath the whole time she spoke. She looked so different I was sure if my father came back he would think he had entered the wrong house.
"Something bright and joyful." she reminded me. She turned and left my room with such power in her footsteps I thought she had sucked out the air behind her.
I went into the bathroom and looked at my glum face in the mirror. Of course I didn't want to wallow in sadness and defeat. I didn't want to wear the cloak of dark depression. I just didn't think I had Mommy's strength and ability to cast it off.