Page 4 of Whatever Will Be

She might be saying that there’s no use in worrying over the future when uncertain events can ruin all your plans.

Or she might be trying to offer hope that all will work out in the end.

“It’s not fucking fair,” grumbles Danny and in a very un-Danny-like display of uncool temper, he punches his own seat three times.

Jules’s mouth presses into a line for a second. She’s sad and she’s worried and she has been saddled with more heartache and responsibility than any high school senior should be but she’s also lucky. At least she’ll be able to escape to college in a couple of months.

I know I’ll have to come back. And I know Jules has to leave. I don’t blame her for that.

“You’re right,” says Jules. “It’s not fair. Now put your seatbelt on.” She double checks to make sure mine is fastened.

I guess that’s what happens when you’re placed in charge of people who need you to take care of them. You become obsessed with strapping them into seatbelts.

Danny punches the grey leather upholstery one more time and I think he’s acting like an overgrown toddler but I’m no one to judge these days. He clicks his seatbelt on and grows silent, probably thinking that with all the ways he’s been kicked in the teeth lately, the sight of his best friend being marched away in handcuffs just takes the cake.

As we leave Lake Stuart behind, I flip Abigail Fisher’s Greatest Hits over and discover the name of the first song on the list.

Whatever Will Be.

Oh.

That’s what she meant by the note.

I don’t know why I have an urge to laugh.

“We’ll stop for lunch along the way,” Jules promises. She moves her head to peer at our brother in the rearview mirror. “Does that sound all right, Dan-O?”

Only our dad ever calls him that. But Jules is not trying to rub salt in the wound. She’s doing her best to substitute for the parents that none of us really have anymore. Our father is lost. And our mother never really liked being a mother in the first place. She likes it even less now.

“Whatever,” Danny mutters.

I turn around and see him back there, taking up more space than most men as he glares out the window. But his expression changes when he notices I’m looking and he tries to submit a smile of encouragement.

Then my gaze shifts to my sister. Jules squints into the sunshine, her hands tight on the steering wheel.

We’ve never been close, not any of us.

Jules was always the busy big sister who outgrew childhood games early.

Danny was the rough-and-tumble brother with no patience for sitting still.

As for me, the baby of the family…

I suppose I’ve been the immature nuisance; always nervous and far from daring.

I’m very aware of where we’re going and why. However, I’m not unhappy, not right at this second.

Because if we’re all walking through a nightmare, at least we’re walking through it together.

The three of us.

Jules tosses over another smile when I pop in Abigail’s CD. The throaty voice filling the car is made for mournful ballads of love and longing. I appreciate old music but I’m a hard rock kind of girl and love songs make me gag on all the dreamy romance in their lyrics.

Still, I like the sound of Abigail’s voice and I can almost believe she’s telling a story that I’ll want to hear and so I keep listening.

“Our past and our future.

Kissed by the moon.

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