Page 162 of Toeing the Line

There’sno time for anything when we get back to the house. Dad is waiting with the SUV packed and we leave for Connecticut by four o’clock. I spend the trip scouring the internet for ornithology graduate programs. The one at Cornell looks incredible, but I’m also pleasantly surprised to see there’s a strong program at Oregon State. It doesn’t have the same “pedigree” as an Ivy League school, but it does have its own experimental forest.

The trip goes quickly as the sun sets over New York to the west. When we pull up the long driveway to my childhood home in Greenwich, a place I haven’t visited since I graduated from Stanford, my chest tightens.

“Fee-Fee,” Dad says, opening the door for me. “We’re home.”

I let out a deep breath and Mom turns around.

“Wait a minute, sweetheart,” she says, her eyes round with intention. “You are welcome to stay as long as you want. But I don’t want this to be another descent into the land of Miss Havisham.”

I snort. “I didn’t realize I’d become so Dickensian.”

“You can’t just hide away from the world, Faye,” she says. NotFaye Ellen—Faye.

“What does that mean?”

“You need a break. You should take a real break. Go to the spa. Get a massage. Take a walk. Eat some fruit. But I won’t watch my oldest daughter spend any more time hiding behind a stack of books.”

“I like my books.”

“Nonetheless, it’s time to return to civilization. Call your friends. Check your messages. Answer some of them. You can stay, but you can’t hide away.”

She gets out of the car and she and my dad walk around to the back of the car for their luggage. With the momentary quiet, I pull out my phone, not sure if I want to know whether Zeke tried calling or texting or not.

Sure enough, I have three missed calls and a slew of missed text notifications. But when I open my voicemail, my heart stops.

With a shaking hand, I press the phone to my ear.

“Faye, it’s Sarah again. Just wanted to give you an update. I hope you’re getting these… I know things are weird but… shit…. Look, he’s stable, but they’re keeping him overnight. They’re worried about swelling, and he… um… he was in a lot of pain when he came to. And he…” There’s noise in the background, as if someone is talking to her. “Fuck, Faye. I’m sorry to do this. He asked for you. Before they put him under, he asked for you, so if you can get here. I don’t know where you are. Can you just, get here?”

“What is it?” Mom asks.

I realize she’s holding my hand. I don’t know when that happened. Or when my car door opened. I shake my head and scan back to the first voice mail. It’s much louder in the background, like it’s coming from a car.

“Faye. It’s Zach. I’m not sure if you were watching the game. If you were, I’m sure you’re freaking too. Uh, if you weren’t—fucking turn signals would be nice—sorry. Uh, Zeke got into a fight. He’s being transferred to OHSU now. I’m headed up there. Sarah will come too, I think? She’s waiting on her parents to take the kids. Uh, just give me a call if you can? Okay. Thanks.”

My stomach drops and I feel the shaking in my stomach spread into my body.

“Faye?” Mom asks. It’s as if the world is moving around me as I scroll through the texts while we ride the elevator in silence.

SARAH COOPER: Hey Faye, I left you a voicemail. Zeke got injured

SARAH COOPER: I thought you’d want to know, in case you weren’t watching

SARAH COOPER: Zeke’s at OHSU now, they’re going to do surgery on his jaw

SARAH COOPER: I know you’d want to know. Even if you can’t get here right now.

SARAH COOPER: Just… call when you can.

“What is happening?” Dad asks, blocking me from the line I’ve been pacing back and forth on the driveway.

I shake my head and hold out my phone as if it will answer his question. Dad reads the messages and passes the phone to Mom. Dad is already on his phone when Mom presses the phone to her ear. I can hear the tinny sound of Sarah’s voice from the speaker. Her face falls, and it’s enough confirmation that it’s bad. I feel my bottom lip tremble as she wraps an arm around me.

“Get back in the car, Faye,” Mom says, her gaze flickering to Dad’s.

“Mom?”

“I’ve got you on a flight that leaves in an hour. We’ll have to drive fast,” Dad says, getting back into the car.

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