Page 34 of Yours

I notice the tightness around her eyes. This isn’t the same kid I dropped off at the airport two months ago.

“I failed my biology test,” she says.

I frown, thinking about this. “Even after you studied your brains out the way you did?” I ask.

She reaches up to wipe a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t study,” she says.

I try to understand. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she replies, sounding lost.

“Sorry, Darcy,” I say because I’m clueless. “That sucks.”

“Yeah,” she says.

It’s like there’s some kind of barrier between us. I can’t put my finger on it. Is she still keyed up from school? Or did something happen to us?

“What else?” I ask, my chest feeling tight.

She starts to cry again, and I grimace because surely, this is when she’s going to tell me she’s found someone else. But it’s better she gets it over with now. That’ll be better for both of us.

“It’s okay,” I say. “You can tell me.”

She looks at me, her soft brown eyes crushed with worry. “I thought I could be different there,” she says. “But it’s the same. Everything’s the same. I left to get away, but…” She starts to cry again, and this time, I can’t stand it any longer and pull her close. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but for now I hope this can reassure her.

She feels so good in my arms. I feel her relax and slowly, her sobs subside.

“Can we go home?” she asks.

I try to smile but I’m too worried. “You bet,” I say.

After a mostly silent drive where I hold her hand and sneak glances at her while she gazes out the window, I pull up in her driveway. I carry her suitcase to the door, and Milton steps into the cold evening to greet her. We all enter the house, and I carry Darcy’s suitcase to her room, hearing their conversation echo through the house. Inside Darcy’s bedroom, I get a flash of memory from what happened here. It almost shocks me because the young woman who gave herself to me so eagerly me then seems to have disappeared. The Darcy downstairs is so sad, not at all like herself. Fuck.

Milton invites me to stay for dinner, but I decline. They need their time together. After having to hide my feelings for Darcy around him for two months, if I stayed, there’s no way I could keep quiet, and the cat would be out of the bag. I need more time alone with Darcy to figure out what’s going on before I let that happen.

Milton thanks me for picking up Darcy. I glance back from the door, and what I see fills my guts with emotion because she looks so small and broken.

At the shop the next day, Milton comes to work late and tells me that Darcy woke up feeling sick, so he made her go to the doctor. No wonder she felt so crummy. Could this be why she acted the way she did? I spend the day wondering.

I promised a friend I’d help him move that afternoon, so I don’t get back to the Reyes’ until the next day: Saturday. My excuse is that I need to bring in more wood and check the new thermostat I installed. It’s one of those fancy ones you can program from your phone, and Milton still hasn’t quite figured it out.

Milton says Darcy’s been in bed since she got home, so I don’t see her. That night I head to the bar with Higgs and a few other guys. Everything’s decorated for Christmas and there’s a festive, sparkling energy about the place, but somehow, I can’t get into it.

The Reyes’ don’t yet have a Christmas tree so on Sunday, I go to the lot near the town square and pick one out. I don’t really know Darcy’s style, but hopefully they’ll like it. When I get to their house, Milton is playing his monthly poker game at one of his crony’s so I let myself in and bring in the tree, realizing I don’t know where Milton keeps the stand. I go to the garage and search the shelves, finally finding a box that says “X-mas” and the heavy metal stand for the tree. After I haul it all back inside, I see Darcy standing at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes look clearer, and her face doesn’t look so lost. She’s dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Her auburn hair is tied back in a ponytail.

“Hey,” I say, putting everything down on the floor. “You feeling better?”

She nods. “Thanks for bringing us a tree,” she says.

“You bet,” I say. “I could use some help getting it up,” I add.

“Sure,” she says, and walks to the corner of the living room. “My dad will be surprised,” she adds.

I get down on my knees and situate the stand, then ask her to lift the tree into the well. Once I have the screws in, she helps me adjust it so that it stands straight. From the kitchen, Darcy brings a glass Pyrex measuring of water and pours it into the well.

“It’s pretty,” she says and sits down on the couch, still looking at the tree.

I get busy building a fire.

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