Page 18 of The Missing Half

“No, I remember that,” I say. “But the way you said it—it made it seem like you didn’t work there the whole summer.”

Lauren gives me a look as she hitches Thomas higher on her hip. “I didn’t. I worked there with her for about two months. Then I left to go waitress. Kasey never told you?”

Her words, spoken innocently enough, worm into my brain:Kasey never told you.But Kasey and I had told each other everything. For a moment I can’t speak, and Jenna fills the silence.

“Where did you work as a waitress?” she says.

“Just the place next door. It’s called Mesquite.”

“You worked at Mesquite Barbecue?” Jenna shoots me a glance. She looks as thrown as I feel.

“Yes…?” Lauren says.

“That’s where my sister worked.”

“Jules? Really? I don’t remember her there. I don’t think.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Jenna says. “By then, she was working in South Bend. She worked at Mesquite a few years earlier. Back when it was Famous Jake’s.”

“Oh.” Lauren’s voice is light. “Huh.”

“I don’t understand,” I say, and Lauren shifts her attention back to me. “You and Kasey were attached at the hip. She loved working at the record store with you. Why’d you leave?” I feel frustration wafting off Jenna and realize too late what I’ve done—bowled over the revelation about Jules to ask about Kasey.

“Bah!” Thomas shouts. Lauren brushes his wispy hair with her fingers, then says, “The waitresses there made really good tips. I was in college. I needed the money. Plus, it wasn’t like I was going far. It was literally next door.”

“When did you switch jobs?”

“July, I think?”

“No.” My voice is louder than I’d intended. A few of the church goers glance in our direction. “That can’t be right. You were working at the record store the day Kasey went missing—August 17th. I walked over after work to look for her and you gave me a ride home.”

“That’s not how it happened.”

“What do you mean?” I say.

“I was working that day, but I was at Mesquite. I saw you through the window. You were on the sidewalk out front, on the phone. You looked upset, so I came out to see if you were okay and you asked me for a ride. I remember because I had to ask my boss to leave early and he was a jerk about it.”

I feel as if I’m in a snow globe that’s being flipped upside down. That day was the most pivotal of my entire life. It’s unfathomable that I could misremember it. And yet, Lauren’s memory is already distorting my own. I think back to that summer evening: crossing Grape Road, sweat rolling down my back. The sound of that obscure band over the record store speakers. Lauren working alone. “No,” I say. “I remember asking you where Kasey was, and you said you hadn’t seen her all day.”

“Right. Because I hadn’t.”

“But we were in the record store when we talked. Why would you have been in there if you weren’t working there?”

“I wasn’t in there,” Lauren says. “I wouldn’t have been. You probably went in looking for Kasey then came back out again. That’s when I saw you outside.”

Jenna’s eyes are on me. “Nic. It was seven years ago. It’s okay. You just misremembered something.”

I nod but feel unmoored. First I learn that Kasey hid something from me that summer, and now I find out my own memories have betrayed me.

To Lauren, Jenna says, “Can you tell us about that summer? What was it like working so close to Kasey?”

“Well, the record store was a pretty cushy job. It was super slow, so Kasey and I just hung out most of the time. Oh, and there was this cute boy who worked at the yogurt shop across the street. We’d take turns going over there and seeing what free stuff we could get from him. Usually, he’d just give us tastes of the different flavors, but sometimes he’d pour sprinkles into a little cup. We’d take it back to the shop and eat them as we talked.”

Lauren smiles softly, and I can see that to her, this memory is golden and light. If it were mine, it would carve a hole in me.

“And we worked well together too,” she continues. “At first, we both did a bit of everything around the store, but Kasey was the one in love with the music. She’d spend hours deciding which records to play and in what order. She was a real perfectionist about it. You know how she could be. And she loved getting in new albums and making sure they were shelved properly. She even started joking about dropping out of nursing school to work there full-time.”

“I remember that,” I say. It sounds defensive.

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