Страница 49 из 89
Full signal. Full battery. No missed calls. No texts—
except from Melissa, who’s left
dozen impatient
messages demanding to know why wasn’t at school, why
I’m not answering my phone, begging me to call her to fill
her in on all the exciting news about my awesome new
family and my amazing new mom
Yeah,
think. My amazing new dead mom, who’s
probably given me fatal disease
Awesome
try Josh again, but when he still doesn’t answer,
don’t leave message. I’ve already left five voice mails—
and ten texts.
Where are you, Josh?
294
Maybe he’s lost his phone? Maybe it’s been stolen?
Maybe it’s charging—plugged into his dorm-room wall
while he’s been out
all night long
Come on, Holls
tell myself. Josh loves you— you’re
engaged! What more reassurance do you need?
stare at my ring, its plastic gem glowing
reassuringly.
But that was before
glance at the computer screen, then close my eyes,
which are red and sore from reading and surfing and
searching and crying all night as
watch my future
showcased on YouTube.
9:32 a.m.
sigh and reach for my glass of water. Empty.
Figures.
weigh my options dully. Die of thirst or get up and
face the world. Pretty even.
take deep breath, then heave myself out of bed,
the blood rushing to my head as my feet hit the floor, the
room spi
open the door.
Nothing happens.
No tornado transports me to Oz, no snowy forest
appears beyond the doorway, no scenes of destruction
and desolation. Just the landing and the stairs and the
sound of Megan clattering in the kitchen.
The world hasn’t changed at all, hasn’t stopped
turning, hasn’t stood still.
295
So why do feel like I’m falling so fast right through
its center?
make it safely down the stairs and wander slowly
into the living room to find Ben watching cartoons.
“Hey, Benji,” say, kissing his head as sink down
beside him.
“Hey,” he replies, flopping onto my lap and gri
up at me.
My heart lifts. “Who’s wi
brushing his bangs from his sparkling eyes.
“Jerry,” Ben giggles, pointing. “Duh!”
Duh smile, my fingers curling absently in his soft
hair. Ben’s watching cartoons, Jerry’s eluding Tom.
Nothing has changed.
close my eyes and let the loud
cartoon music fade away.
Nothing has changed
loud knocking sound wakes me before realize
I’m asleep.
glance at Ben, still glued to the TV screen. Maybe
imagined it.
Another knock and hear Megan rush to open the
front door.
“Oh, hello.”
woman’s crisp English accent floats
through the doorway, “I wonder if you could help me, I’m
looking for Jack? Jack Woods?”
frown at the strange voice—she sounds oddly
familiar, yet somehow can’t place her. Who do know
from England? Besides Hurricane Rosie.
296
peer over the back of the sofa through the half-
open living room door, but can only see Megan.
“Oh! Right. Please come in,” she says, brushing her
frazzled hair out of her eyes, leaving streak of soap suds
across her forehead. She wipes her hands on dishcloth.
“Can get you cup of tea? Coffee?”
“Lovely.”
Megan steps aside, blocking my view as the woman
enters, her heels clicking down the corridor to the kitchen.
Burning with curiosity, slide Ben gently onto the
sofa and stand up.
Then see it.
There, on the street outside my house, is limo.
bona fide stretch limo.
stare at it gleaming by the
sidewalk, then pinch myself. This has to be dream.
Dazed, creep down the corridor and peek into the
kitchen.
wasn’t dreaming.
The
woman
is
gorgeous.
Like,
movie-star
gorgeous—about thirty, but just so glamorous, her
bobbed black hair gleaming in the morning sunshine, her
makeup flawless, her tailored cream dress clinging
immaculately to her curves. She’s stu
familiar
“Black coffee, no sugar.” She beams at Megan.
“Thank you so much.”
“Same, thanks,” another woman says.
blink—I hadn’t even noticed her. She’s
little
older, with pointy features,
tight blond bun and an
297
oversized Gucci bag. She reminds me of Meryl Streep in
The Devil Wears Prada—only with Gucci.
“Jack should be here any minute.” Megan smiles
nervously, the best cups and saucers clattering in her
hands. “I’m Megan, by the way.”
The movie star steps toward her smoothly, hand
outstretched.
“Lovely to meet you, Megan. I’m Kitty.”
“Nice to meet you,” Megan says, wiping her hand
quickly on her skirt and shaking Kitty’s hand. “Sorry, you
look so familiar, have we met bef—” Suddenly her eyes
pop. “Oh, my God!” she gasps. “You’re Kitty Clare!”
Kitty Clare! Oh, my God! My heart beats quickly. I’m
such an idiot—of course that’s who she is—she’s on our TV every single week— For Richer, For Poorer Dad’s favorite sitcom! Oh, my God, Melissa will totally flip when
tell her! Kitty Clare is in my house! In my kitchen! And
I’m in my hippo pj’s!
“I love your work!” Megan gushes excitedly, her
curls frizzier than ever. “That episode where you and
Mitch got stuck in the elevator—hilarious!”
Kitty smiles graciously.
“And then when the firefighter finally arrived and
you said—”
“Megan?” Dad calls, bursting in through the back
door. “Megan, have you seen my—” He stops midstride.
“Katharine!”
frown, confused, as he stares at Kitty Clare.
Katharine?
298
“Actually
it’s Kitty now.” She smiles,
hint of
nervousness in her eyes as she stands up to face Dad,
turning her back to me. “Hello, Jack. It’s been long time.”
watch as they stare at each other, my head
whirling. What’s going on? How does Dad know Kitty Clare?
And why’d he call her
My heart stops.
“Katharine?”
Dad spins around, horrified. “Sweetheart!”
back away from the doorway as Kitty begins to
turn, just as Rosie strolls down the stairs.
“Morning!” She smiles at me, walking obliviously
into the kitchen.
“Rosie—” Dad starts urgently.
“Rosie!” Kitty cries, swooping toward her. “Oh,
Rosie, darling, thank God!”
freeze, paralyzed, as she engulfs Rosie in
tight
embrace.
It’s her. Katharine— Kitty. Kitty Clare. The mother
who never wanted me
stare at her as she drowns Rosie with affection,
sick feeling growing in my stomach.
The mother who never wanted me
299
Rosie
stare at her, this woman who’s squeezing me as if
her life depends on it. It’s Kitty—it’s really Kitty, and
yet
need to pinch myself.
“Oh, Rosie,” she whispers, stroking my hair. “I’m not
too late, thank goodness!”
Behind her, footsteps pound quickly up the stairs.
Oh, God, Holly Helplessly,
watch her go, Kitty’s
arms tight around me.
“Sweetheart, wait!” Jack moves to chase after her,
then glances back at me. “I—I’ll be right back.” He sprints