C. Omololu - Dirty Little Secrets

I pulled back from Josh’s arms as the image hit me. I’d watched it a million times, but never thought of it as the answer until now. It was perfect. There was a way to save us all, but I had to work fast.

Josh’s fingers were interlaced with mine as I stepped backward. “I have to go,” I said. I let go and zipped my jacket up tighter.

He grabbed my hand and kissed my palm. “Are you sure? I have to be back here at seven, so I was thinking we could just hang out until then. I don’t care about losing a little sleep.”

Turning around, I kissed him hard on the mouth. He didn’t know it then, but it was a promise. Maybe someday I could tell him what really went on tonight. Someday after. Right now, I had to keep this version of Lucy real for him and for me. “I’m sure.”

I waited nervously while he put everything back and turned off the light. Now that I had it all figured out I didn’t want to waste any time. His car was freezing, and I huddled in the front seat blowing on my hands while he warmed it up.

“I live just around the corner,” I said, pointing up ahead.

He glanced at me while he drove. “I know where you live, Lucy Lu.”

“You do?”

“Yep,” he said, and grinned.

We kissed for another minute parked in front of the house. “I’ll walk you to the door,” Josh said, unbuckling his seat belt.

“No, really,” I said quickly. “It’s fine. You stay here—it’s freezing outside.”

“I’m not cold,” he said, and reached over to kiss me again. It was going to be so hard to climb out of the car and walk away. I untangled myself from his arms and opened the door. I had to stay focused and not lose my nerve.

“Later? After work, okay—meet me there?” he asked. “I’ll take you to lunch at the Paradise.”

I nodded, kissed him one last time, and turned to walk quickly up the front steps. I had never felt so good and so bad at the same time. As I reached the door, I could hear his car idling, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t want him to see the tears that had started rolling down my face. I didn’t have time for tears once I got inside. If I wanted any more nights like this, I had no other choice.

chapter 19

4:45 a.m.

I pushed the front door open gently and stuck my head around into the hallway. I don’t know what I expected to see, but it looked just the same as when I’d left.

I picked my way through the dining room to the back hallway. The light from the kitchen shone just enough to see the lumpy sheet. I looked at Mom lying there and tried not to let the lonely, helpless feelings wind around my body again. There was only one way to fix this—and standing here feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to make it happen. I just hoped it would work like it did in the movies.

As I dragged the space heater from my room, I could hear a faint beeping sound from far away. I followed the sound, walking back toward the front door. It was coming from somewhere near Mom’s chair. As soon as I saw my bag on the floor, I realized what it was. My phone was ringing. At four something in the morning, my phone was ringing. As soon as the beeping stopped, I flipped open the phone and saw that I’d gotten seventeen text messages from Kaylie since I’d been out, and one from Josh. The last one. Sleep tite. J. I stared at the text, imagining him on the other end of this phone, the light from his cell shining on his skin in the dark. The longing was a physical ache in my chest, but I shut the phone and set it on the chair. Everything good would have to wait.

I crossed to the dining room and stuck my head out the window, inhaling the sharp, cold air. The clouds had vanished overnight, leaving a surprising number of stars twinkling in the space between our roof and the trees that separated our yard from the Rajs’. There was about half of a football field between our house and theirs, which was perfect.

I wasn’t even nervous as I made my way back toward my room. Now that I knew what I had to do, it seemed almost easy. I wouldn’t be able to explain why I was in jeans in the middle of the night, though, so I had to change into the T-shirt and sweats that I usually slept in.

As I passed the corner to Mom’s room, I spotted those scabby suede slippers sticking forlornly out of the sheet. It would only take a minute, I told myself. For some reason it felt like the right thing to do. I inched my way back toward the front of the house and found the box where I’d left it yesterday. Tearing through the tissue paper, I pulled out the new slippers, tucking them under my right arm as I made my way back through the kitchen. I knelt down at her feet and gently pulled the old, worn slippers off, trying not to look at her yellow toenails or her mottled bone white skin while I slipped the new ones on. As I stood up, I squeezed the right foot with my hand. It was as close to a good-bye as I was going to get. I had to keep telling myself it was better this way. I had to believe it.

Setting her old slippers down on my bed, I took a long look around my room. I’d never lived anywhere else, and I knew every crack in the ceiling and worn spot in the carpet. As much as I couldn’t wait to get out of here, I was going to miss it. This was where Mom taught me to sew and where once upon a time we all lived together as a family. I reminded myself that this was also where I lived without a door to my room or hot water for years. I ran my hand over the quilt on my bed and looked at the lunchbox that held my tickets. If I started to think about all the things I wanted to save, I’d never get it done. I had to get started.

I changed into Phil’s old AC/DC concert shirt and gray sweatpants as fast as I could because it was so freezing in here. Grabbing the stinky slippers off the bed, I stood in the doorway and took one last look around. Everything else had to stay. Teddy B. was in a heap on the floor with my jacket, and I felt a pang in my chest. I hadn’t seen him for years, but I felt like he was one link to the past that I wasn’t ready to give up. I grabbed him and stuck him in the waistband of my sweats. I’d stash him someplace safe until it was all over and he could be with me again.

I took a deep breath and turned toward the door. Time to start my after.

chapter 20

5:25 a.m.

Starting the fire was harder than I thought it would be. When Johnny Depp and his sisters burned their house down in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape , they took what they wanted out of the house and then poured gasoline over everything else. Gasoline wasn’t part of my plan—I had to use the natural layout of the house to make this place burn beyond recognition while making it look like an accident. And I couldn’t take anything with me.

I plugged the space heater into the extension cord by Mom’s chair, and to my surprise, it started whirring without even needing a smack to get it started. As soon as the coil inside was glowing orange, I placed the heater next to a stack of newspapers and kicked it over just enough so that it was pressed against the flammable pile. I stood back and waited for the flames to burst from the heater and blaze up the wall.

Nothing happened.

I’d always thought that the smallest thing would burn this place down to the ground. We were always worried that a spark from an electrical short or a stove malfunction would send the place up in flames in seconds. Apparently it took a little more effort. I pushed the heater deeper into the stack and stood back, watching for the smallest wisp of smoke to signal success.

I smelled it before I saw it—that faint campfire smell when something starts to burn. Just as the smell registered in my brain, there was a brief burst of smoke before the edge of one of the papers caught fire.

It didn’t roar and it didn’t jump to life—the fire unfolded purposefully before my eyes as if it were an animal that was slowly coming out of hiding, creeping forward and waiting to see if I was going to chase it back into its cave.