What I Didn't Say Page 10

  I turned left instead of right to follow her. It didn’t take long to find her as she walked down the sidewalk. I slowed down as I drove along side of her and rolled down the window. She walked with a brown paper bag in one hand, a book in the other that her nose was glued to.

  Looking around for something to get her attention, I settled on a pen and threw it at her. It hit the brown paper bag she was carrying and made her jump in surprise. Looking around, she finally saw me through the window. I waved her over, pulling over half-way into a parking lot.

  She looked over at me, glancing back the way she had come. I could tell she was debating on just walking away. I couldn’t blame her after the way I had been acting for the last week. Finally she crossed the street and walked around the car. She opened the passenger door and sank into the seat, her bag dropping to the floor by her feet.

  “What do you want Jake?” she practically spat. “Shouldn’t you be at home with your family right now?”

  I pointed to the shopping bags in the backseat and fished around for a notebook and a pen. I unearthed a pen, but without finding even a single notebook, I settled for my arm.

  Shouldn’t you? I wrote.

  Sam’s eyes lingered on my words for a long moment, her entire frame stiffening. I thought I saw her eyes redden just a little bit.

  Sad realization hit me.

  Your mom’s gone again, I wrote. Isn’t she?

  Samantha looked out the window away from me. I wondered if she’d looked away so she could wipe tears away without me seeing.

  “She’s snowed in at an airport back east,” she said, her voice stiff. “She won’t be able to get home until the weather clears up.” She turned her face back toward the front of the car. I could see the moisture pooled in her eyes. “I was just walking to the store to get something to eat for myself.”

  I sat there looking at Samantha for a long minute. Finally, I just put the Bronco back into drive and flipped around on the street.

  “Uh, where are you taking me?” Sam asked, her voice a mix of annoyance and uncertainty. I thought I picked up on the smallest trace of hope. “I’m going the opposite direction.”

  I didn’t bother responding to her, just kept driving.

  Sam didn’t say anything else. She sat there stiff for a minute, as if she wasn’t sure if she should demand to be let out of the car, or maybe even jump if I didn’t allow her to get out. But by the time I passed the airport she finally relaxed into her seat, watching the scenery as it went by.

  I parked the car in the driveway and pushing up my sleeves again, wrote, Come on in.

  “Jake, I don’t want to impose or anything,” Sam tried to protest, though it sounded pretty halfhearted. “I mean, I’m pretty set with my wheat thins, banana, and frozen pizza.”

  I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. Get inside, I wrote on my skin.

  She gave an appreciative smile, keeping my eyes for a minute. “Okay fine,” she said finally. “But I’m helping you carry these bags inside.”

  And she did. We both paused in front of the door, our hands full. I gave her a look that I hoped said you ready for this craziness?

  Samantha took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, and then nodded.

  The house was complete chaos. Joshua, James, and Tally’s two youngest kids ran like maniacs throughout the house, chasing each other with a mix of plastic swords, light sabers, and Nerf guns. Mom, Jordan, Jenny, Grandma, and Aunt Tally were in the kitchen, talking to each other in raised voices. Anyone outside of the family would have thought it was a heated fight. I knew it was just the way they talked to each other when they were discussing how best to bake a pie or dress a turkey. Grandpa, Dad, and John sat looking at something on one of their laptops. Jamie lay in the window seat reading one of the half dozen books she read a week.

  There was so much going on that no one even realized I was back and had brought a guest with me.

  “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” Sam asked nervously. “I won’t stay if there’s not going to be enough food, or make it awkward for anyone.”

  And then through the kitchen we both noticed Kali helping out.

  I looked back at Sam with a look on my face like, are you kidding me?

  Sam just smiled. My mom’s reputation for having the ability to feed armies at any given moment was well known.

  I gave a nod of my head, come on, and cautiously, Sam followed me into the kitchen.

  “Finally,” Mom said as she glanced up at me from something that was cooking on the stove. Her eyes then caught sight of Sam. “Well hi there, Samantha,” Mom said with a bright smile, just as I had expected her to. “Glad you could join us.” That was just the way Jackie Hayes was. The more the merrier. Just look at our family of seven kids.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hayes,” Samantha said, offering Mom the bag of groceries she was carrying. “I really appreciate you letting me stay.”

  “Well, someone needs to eat all this food,” she said as she glanced back at the stove. All four burners had something going on them. “Will your mom be joining us?”

  Samantha stiffened, her eyes dropping from Mom’s face. “My mom’s been traveling, as usual, the last little bit. She was supposed to fly home last night but her flight’s grounded, for snow. She won’t be able to get home until tomorrow, at the earliest.”

  “I heard about that snow storm,” Mom said as she grabbed for some spice from her cluttered drawer of bottles and baggies. “I’m so sorry she’s stuck all by herself. But I’m glad Jake brought you home so you’re not alone.”

  “Thanks Mrs. Hayes,” Sam said again.

  “Mrs. Hayes,” Mom chuckled. “Half the kids on this island call me Mom.”

  Sam just gave a smile and a nod. I thought I saw her eyes redden again, just a little bit.

  Kali seemed to have noticed I was standing in the kitchen and joyfully greeted me. I couldn’t help but smile back as I returned Kali’s embrace. Kali always hugged. With most men that would have been awkward, but with Kali it would have seemed weird if he didn’t hug to greet you.

  And as easy as anything in the world, Sam flowed right into the kitchen, helping out where she could, chatting with Mom, switching to Jordan, talking with Jenny. Just like she belonged there. I smiled a little as I watched her from the living room, pretending to pay attention to whatever Dad, Grandpa, and John were talking about.

  Sam didn’t look lonely anymore.

  It took another two hours before dinner was ready but having a meal for sixteen people ready by one o’clock was pretty impressive. The Hayes dining table had been extended to its biggest, both extensions placed in the middle of it, as well as a folding table placed at the end of it. It stretched halfway into the living room, but per Mom’s instructions, we would all be able to sit together. Sam, Jamie, and I helped bring everything to the table when it was ready. Sam looked a bit unsure of where to sit, so I sank into a seat and patted the one next to me. Joshua sat next to her and Aunt Tally sank into the chair on the other side of me.

  “Quiet down everyone,” Mom shouted above all the chatter. “Continuing with tradition, I would ask each of you to say one thing you’re grateful for.”

  Giving Dad one of those warm looks that assured me they’d always be together, she took his hand in hers. Dad took Jamie’s hand on his other side. I glanced at Sam, giving a small smile as I took her hand, and took Tally’s hand in my other. Looking unsure if she was doing things right, Sam took Joshua’s hand in her other.

  Mom started, as usual, saying she was grateful for her family, that everyone was together and that everyone was healthy. Dad, Grandpa, and Grandma pretty much said the exact same thing. Jenny mumbled something about being grateful to be in college, James joked about his Xbox. When it came my turn, I just shook my head. There was an awkward moment where everyone just stared at me. It felt like there was a big dark cloud growing in the room that was going to suffocate us all.

  “I’m grateful for life,�
�� Sam said, breaking the cloud. “It slips away too easily.”

  I did my best not to look over at Sam when she was finished and Joshua said something I didn’t even hear.

  When everyone finished, Mom asked Dad to say prayer over the food.

  Dad waited a second for everyone to quiet back down. Everyone still holding hands, we each closed our eyes and bowed our heads.

  “Our Father,” Dad began. “We have much to be grateful for this year. We are grateful for our home, for the chance we have to live on this beautiful island. We are grateful for family, and especially grateful for Jacob this year.” I felt Sam give my hand a small squeeze. “We are grateful for our friends, that Kali and Samantha could be with us this year.” It was my turn to squeeze Sam’s hand this time. “We ask a blessing on this food and say these things, amen.”

  “Amen,” everyone but me echoed.

  And just like that, the table became a flurry of arms grabbing, spoons dishing, and drinks pouring. Sam just sat back for a moment, a chuckle escaping out of her throat. I just looked at her and smiled. I reached around her to accept the gigantic bowl of mashed potatoes Joshua was passing without looking. Taking a heaping scoop, I plopped it down on Samantha’s plate, and then placed an even bigger one on my own.

  I could hardly even see the edges of my plate by the time I was done serving up my first round of food. I made extra sure that Sam couldn’t either. She needed to put a little more meat on her bones.

  “So,” Joshua said to Sam around a mouthful of turkey. “Are you Jake’s girlfriend or something?”

  Sam laughed, glancing once back at me. “Jake’s my friend,” she answered little Joshua, ruffling his hair. “He invited me so I didn’t have to be by myself today.”

  “Too bad,” he said swallowing his bite before he shoved another in. He’d taken an entire turkey leg. “You’re sure pretty.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh too as half the table busted up into chuckles. Sam blushed bright red.

  The rest of the meal passed in similar fashion: relaxed, joyful chaos. By the time everyone was finished, there was still about a third of the food on the table. I knew Mom would be running around plates of food to different people on the island later that night, determined to feed half of Orcas.

  As everyone waited for their stomach’s to digest enough room for pie, we cleared the table and started three different sets of games. A round of domino’s started on one end with everyone under the age of thirteen playing. Another round of a card game I didn’t really understand how to play started at the other end with Tally, Grandma, Jamie, Jenny, and Jordan. Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Sam and I played some new game that consisted of cards, a board with plastic pieces, and dice that I’d never played before. I was losing badly, only half paying attention to the game. Of course Samantha was winning, too smart for the game to really be fair to the rest of us.

  I felt like I should have been happier that day. Life was pretty good. I had my family all together, everyone was getting along. I had a warm house, good food. The girl of my dreams was with me and my family like she was one of us.

  But I couldn’t seem to shake the self-pity from my head.

  I couldn’t join in any of their conversation. I kept catching my extended family staring at my throat. I couldn’t even laugh along with them all. Everything just felt wrong.

  Eventually as it started to get dark outside, which it did at close to 4:30 that time of year, Sam, Jenny, and Mom went back into the kitchen to serve up pie for everyone. I didn’t realize Sam knew me so well when she brought me a plate of all four different kinds of pie. She just gave me a little smirk as she walked back into the kitchen.

  Everyone was pretty quiet as we sat in the living or dining room, savoring the pie. I sat in the window seat, Sam right next to me, so close our shoulders kept brushing each other. I knew the entire family was watching us, looking for signs that we were something more than friends. I knew how happy that would make most of the girls in the room. They’d never say it and it wouldn’t be a big deal for a few years, but I knew it worried at least Mom that I’d never get a girlfriend who could be understanding enough about my inability to talk.

  But I wasn’t really thinking about that then. I was trying pretty hard to not think about anything at all, cause my thoughts kept trying to turn dark on what should have been a pretty freaking good day.

  8 hours since picking Sam up…

  Sometime around 5:30 the grandparents and Tally headed back toward the ferry to go home. Sam and I offered to do the dishes which we did in the comfortable silence we had experienced that day at the lake. But on that Thanksgiving day, the day at the lake didn’t seem real anymore.

  “Well,” Sam said as she dried her hands, all the dishes done. “I guess I’ll start walking home.”

  I made the sign for laughing, getting the message of very funny across.

  “Really, it’s fine,” she said. She suddenly sounded nervous. “I don’t mind walking.”

  Having found a pen in my pocket, I grabbed a paper towel and scrawled, Its pitch black outside, and raining.

  My face must have looked pretty annoyed, cause Sam’s suddenly hardened, her eyes narrowing. “Fine,” she said, her voice sharp and cold.

  Rolling my eyes at her, I turned and walked toward the door. The entire family called good-bye to Sam as the two of us walked outside, she returning their good-bye’s warmly. These days it felt like their smiles were never quite that real when they looked at me.

  Neither of us said anything as we got into the Bronco, each of us slamming the doors as we got in. I could tell there was something on Sam’s mind again as I backed out of the driveway. I hadn’t even put it into drive before she exploded.

  “What is your problem, Jake Hayes?” she practically yelled. I looked over at her as I started to pull forward, my brows knitting together. “Besides your stupid accident, you have the perfect life and you’re moping around like… I don’t know, but like a spoiled, little baby!”

  I wanted to yell back at her, to ask her how dare she, but I could only glare at her, glancing back and forth from her to the road.

  “You have a family, one who loves you!” she continued, her face growing red. “You have a roof over your head and more than enough food to eat. Your friends might not ‘get it’,” she made little quote marks in the air. “But they’re still trying to be there for you. And all you can do is shut out the world and feel sorry for yourself.”

  There was nothing like getting yelled at and not being able to defend yourself. I turned on my blinker, about to turn down Enchanted Forest Road.

  “No,” Sam suddenly said, shaking her head. “I don’t live down there anymore. Cut through town and start out toward the lake.”

  I hadn’t realized Samantha had moved.

  I kept my eyes forward, trying really hard not to look at Sam as I made my way toward town. But I could tell Sam’s eyes were on me. I could feel anger rolling off of her.

  “There’s something I want to show you,” she suddenly said, looking back out the windshield and slumping into the seat. “I think it’s something you need to see.”

  I followed Samantha’s directions, through town, turning right at the Corner Store, and out toward the lake. We hadn’t gotten much further than a mile from the Corner Store though when she told me to take a left down a dirt driveway.

  Like a lot of driveways on Orcas, this one was overgrown, all the trees pushing back in on man’s cut through its territory. Ferns were sprouting up between the tire tracks and the gravel looked washed out in more than one place. We drove in hard silence for a full minute down that driveway until a small house came into view. I started to pull in front of it.

  “No,” Sam said, shaking her head. “Pull around back.”

  I gave her a quizzical look but did as she said, pulling around the side of the house to the back.

  There was an old motorhome parked just behind the house, out of view from the driveway. A green garden hose ran from th
e house to the motorhome, and another orange line I assumed was a power cord. The motorhome was covered in moss, the same moss that claimed everything on the island that wasn’t kept up.

  “Come on,” Sam said, getting out of the car. Her demeanor was still cold as I climbed out after her. She walked up to the motorhome and climbed up the shaky stairs. She opened the door and stepped inside, me following right behind her, our notebook in hand.

  The inside was cleaner than the outside, but it was still dark and old. A small kitchen consisted of a tiny cluttered counter and sink. The dining table was covered in school books and pages from notebooks. Toward the back there was a door that opened to what looked like a bedroom and a broom closet of a bathroom.

  I looked at Sam, searching for an explanation as to what we were doing out here instead of going into the house.

  “This is where I live, Jake,” she said, her eyes holding mine firmly. “All by myself.”

  Not sure I was doing it correctly, I made the signs for where and Mom.

  Sam didn’t respond immediately. Her eyes reddened and a little moisture pooled in them, but they never left mine.

  “My mom died in August,” she said, her voice cracking.

  I just kept looking at Samantha, my brain not quite processing the heavy words she had just spoken. Kids our age didn’t have to say sentences like that.

  Dropping her eyes from my face, Sam sniffed, wiping at a tear that had broken free onto her cheek. She walked back toward the bedroom, me numbly following her. She sank onto the messy bed and I sat next to her.

  Opening our notebook and pulling a pen from my pocket, I wrote. I don’t understand,

  Sam read my writing, sniffing again, looking completely exhausted. Finally, she raised her eyes to meet mine.

  “My mom quit her job in June,” Sam started. “She was getting tired of all the traveling and I didn’t want to travel with her anymore; it was just getting too hard with school. She didn’t want to leave me alone all the time. The same week she quit, she went to the doctor because she wasn’t feeling very well. A week later we found out she had stage-four brain cancer. She’d always written her headaches off as just stress from work. She’d joke around and say her diminishing hearing was because she was getting old.”