Nothing More - Chapter 62

Chapter Nineteen

MY CLASSES FELT SO LONG today. Well, they’ve felt like that all week. I couldn’t focus after everything that went down with Dakota. And then with Hardin calling to tell me that he’s coming just next weekend . . .

Next weekend . . .

That doesn’t give me much time to get Tessa used to the idea of him being here, in her space.

When he called back that night, I didn’t answer. It was the first time Tessa and I had really connected in a while and we were too busy wallowing in our aloneness. It was sad, but nice, too, to be there with her.

And miracle of miracles, instead of calling back several times in a row, Hardin actually left me a voicemail. Fairly amazing, really. But thinking back on it, I remembered that he claimed he had to come because he has an appointment in the city that he “can’t miss.”

He has to be applying for jobs here—why else would he have an “unmovable” appointment here in New York? It has to be for a job . . .

Or he’s tired of being away from Tessa. He can’t stay away from her long; he must need his fix.

When I reach my building, a loud delivery truck is idling in the middle of the street. The deli below gets deliveries at all times of the night. Voices and the heavy sound of doors closing, opening, closing again drove me nuts at first because I was so used to the stillness and silence of the suburbs in Washington State, in the Scott “castle” on top of the hill. I still remember how big that house looked to me as we pulled up in my mom’s station wagon. We had chosen the cheap way to travel, driving cross-country, despite Ken’s many attempts to buy us airline tickets and have our stuff shipped. Looking back, I think my mom had too much pride to let him believe she was around for anything other than her love for him.

I remember the first time I heard her laugh in front of him. It was a new laugh—the kind that changed her face and her voice. The corners of her eyes drew up, and the joy that emerged from her throat seemed to come from deep inside her and filled the room with light and fresh air. I felt like she was a different, happier version of the mom I knew and loved.

Of course, when I talk to her now, she always mentions something about me that’s worrying her. Case in point: my sleeping habits since I moved to the city. She keeps asking when I’m going to find a doctor to look into it, but I’m not ready to do most of the practical parts of living in a new city. Seeing a doctor and getting a new driver’s license are things that can wait. Besides, I don’t want to drive in this city, and as far as I’m concerned, the real problem I have right now is those 3 a.m. garbage

trucks.

So instead of a doctor’s visit, I got my white noise machine. It helped me tremendously. Tessa likes the noise, but she said she grew up next to a railroad track and missed the sound of the trains during the night. Lately, we both seem to be reaching for anything that reminds us of home. My sense in New York is that your home is truly your castle, or if not a castle, at least the cubbyhole in the city you can control. Apparently, for both Tessa and me, controlling the sounds we hear helps us feel in control in general, just in different ways.

Inside, the hallways of my building are empty and silent.

When I step off the elevator and into the hallway on my floor, it smells like sugar and spice. Nora must be here, and she and Tessa must be making a sweet, floury mess in the kitchen.

Music is playing; the crooning voice of an edgy girl taking a stand for disregarded youth who are the New Americana fills the apartment when I open the door. I kick off my shoes and leave them by the door. When I walk into the kitchen, I put the gallon of milk I bought while I was out on the counter near Tessa, but it’s Nora who thanks me first.

“It’s nothing,” I tell her, pulling my jacket off of my shoulders and down my arms.

I really need to do something for Ellen for her birthday. She looked even less excited today when I asked her about her big day this week.

“I was walking right by the store when Tessa texted me,” I add.