I Was Here(26)
“Cupcakes,” he says.
“Delicious,” I say, attempting some cheer.
Scottie shakes his head. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’d like some broccoli right about now.”
Joe and Sue hesitate when they see me, as if it’s not Meg’s clothes and books I’ve brought back, but Meg herself. Then they come forward and are thanking me and Sue is crying silently, and it’s just too much to bear. I know they love me. Sue has long said she loves me like a daughter, but it’s different now that she doesn’t actually have a daughter.
I turn to Scottie. If this is hard on me, it’s worse for him. So, as if I’m Santa unpacking gifts, I say: “Shall we see what we’ve got?”
Except no one wants to see it. So I pull out her laptop, which I’ve kept separate in my backpack. I hold it out to Joe and Sue. They look at each other; then they shake their heads. “We discussed it,” Joe says, “and we want you to have it.”
“Me?” I know how expensive this computer was. “No. I can’t.”
“Please, we want you to,” Sue says.
“What about Scottie?”
“Scottie is ten,” Joe says. “We have the family computer. He has plenty of time to have his own laptop.”
Sue’s face falters, as if she no longer trusts the promise of time. But she pulls it together and says: “And you’ll need it for when you go away to college.”
I nod, and we all pretend like this is going to happen.
“It’s too much,” I say.
“Cody, take it,” Joe says almost harshly. I understand then that giving me the computer is not really a gift. But maybe my taking it is.
x x x
When it’s time to leave, Sue packs up a dozen cupcakes to take home. They’re frosted pink and gold, colors that tell a story of sweetness and joy. Even food lies.
Scottie takes Samson out for a walk and joins me half the way home.
“Sorry about the computer, Runtmeyer.”
“S’okay. I can play DS.”
“You can come over and teach me to play one of your games.”
He looks at me seriously. “Okay. But you can’t let me win. I feel like people are letting me win because I’m the dead girl’s brother.”
I nod. “I’m the dead girl’s best friend. So it’s an even playing field. Which frees me up to totally kick your butt.”
It’s the first time I see Scottie smile in ages.
x x x
When I get home, Tricia is there, nuking a Lean Cuisine. “Want one?” she asks. This is the height of mothering for her.
We sit down to Chinese Chicken, and I show her the laptop. She runs her hands over it, impressed, and I wonder if she resents that the Garcias have provided me another thing that she can’t. This in addition to all the dinners, the family camping trips, everything that they gave me while Tricia was working at the bar or out with one of her boyfriends.
“I’ve always wondered how to work one of these,” she says.