More Than We Can Tell

He hasn’t texted me.

I’ve checked my phone at least a thousand times today. Nothing. And now I’m on the bus, heading for home.

Emma. The way he breathed my name is locked in my ears, looping on repeat. Emma. Emma. Emma.

I need to fix this. My relationships with everyone are fractured and unstable.

“He’ll text you,” says Cait. She’s been watching me open and close the iMessage app. “And even if he doesn’t, he said he’d meet you tonight, didn’t he? Didn’t you say he has a lot going on?”

“Yeah.” And he does. I know he does.

But so do I.

I bite at my lip. “I’m so worried that I broke our … whatever.”

“You didn’t break anything.”

“I might have. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Cait is quiet for a little while. “Emma, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. You speak your mind. That’s a good thing.” She pauses.

“Is that your way of telling me to stop being such a bitch?”

“You’re not a bitch. I think you’re just trained to protect yourself.”

It makes me think of Rev, how he’s trained to do the same thing, just in a different way. For different reasons.

“Maybe you’ll need to approach him differently,” says Cait. “When you fix things.”

I give her a watery smile. “Thanks for saying when, not if.”

The bus pulls up to the end of my street. Cait reaches out and gives me another hug. “Call me if you need to come over, okay? Mom will come get you.”

The air is cool when I climb out of the bus, but sunshine pours down. By all measures, a stunning day. It’s half past three, and the afternoon is mine alone. I fill my lungs with fresh air.

Things with Mom are tense, but not unbearable. I’m sure I’ll eventually work things out with my father.

I’m okay. Another deep breath. I’m okay.

Then I turn the corner and see the For Sale sign in front of my house.

She really did it. I didn’t think she’d do it.

I’m light-headed. My vision fills with spots.

I need to breathe. I need to breathe.

My feet move me forward. The world zooms down to the letters on the sign. F-O-R S-A-L-E. The white wooden post. The metal board, swinging in the breeze.

The strange cars in the driveway. One is a sleek sedan. The other is a larger SUV. Both are expensive and shiny.

As I get closer, I realize people are on our front porch. A woman in a sharp pin-striped suit is standing by the front door. A young couple with a baby in a carrier stands beside her.

“You said this just went on the market today?” the man is saying.

“Yes,” says the woman in the suit. “It’s unusual to find a Craftsman in Annapolis. The interior is impeccable. The family really took care of the property …”

She unlocks the door. They disappear inside.

She can’t do this. She can’t.

She hasn’t even told me where we’ll go. I thought this was a threat against Dad. Something to spur his sympathy. Something to try to save the marriage.

I had no idea she was serious.

And the house went on the market today? She didn’t think to mention this over breakfast?

I can do better.

Me too.

What a crock.

I’m standing on the sidewalk in front of my house, hyperventilating. I need to get out of here before the happy couple looks outside and sees me lose my lunch on the lawn.

And Texy! Where is Texy? Why isn’t she barking?

I burst through my front door. They haven’t moved past the dining room. All three people stare at me like I’m insane. The woman puts a hand over her baby’s head, like maybe she doesn’t want the infant to see such a train wreck.

Miss Pinstripe frowns at me. “Can I help you?”

“I—just—my dog—” My voice is shaking. I swallow. “I need to walk the dog.”

“Oh! Are you Emma? Dr. Blue told me she would board the dog this week for showings. I’m sure she’s having a good time at the kennel.”

She put Texy in the kennel. She took my dog and she didn’t tell me.

What a bitch.

“Are you feeling all right, dear?” The real estate agent moves toward me. Her voice is a little worried, a little irritated, like this isn’t going to help her earn a commission.

I need to get out of here.

“No—I’m sorry.” I swipe at my eyes before I start bawling in front of complete strangers. “I need—I need to go—”

And then I’m outside, and the pavement is below my feet, and I’m running.

Rev isn’t beside the church. I have no idea why I thought he might be here. It’s the middle of the afternoon. I’m panting and sweaty and I’m ready to collapse.

I pull out my phone and text him.

Emma: Rev. I need to talk to you.

I wait and wait and wait. He doesn’t answer.

Emma: Please. I know you’re mad. Please don’t ignore me.

He ignores me.

Or maybe he doesn’t see my messages. But the way fate’s been treating me, I think he’s ignoring me.

I dial Cait. It’s only been fifteen minutes since I saw her last, so I know she’s still on the bus, but her mom might be home.

She’s not home. They have an answering machine, but I’m sobbing so hard by the time it gets to the beep that I just hang up.

I call my mother.

By some miracle, she answers. “Emma?”

“You put the house up for sale?” I yell.

A pause. “Emma, I told you that we can’t afford to keep the house. When I called, the agent said she had a couple who wanted to come by today. I had to make a quick decision. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t even tell me! Where are we going? What’s going to—”

“Emma.” Her voice drops. “I need you to get it together. I am not in a place to discuss this.”

“You were supposed to do better.” My voice breaks. “Do you think this is better?”

A sigh. “Emma—”

“Forget it.” I can’t believe I made her breakfast. I can’t believe I felt any pity for her at all. I push the button to end the call.

Then I sit down in the grass and cry. I cry forever.

I try Cait again. No answer. I don’t leave a message this time either.

Am I desperate enough to walk to Rev’s house?

Apparently so, because I find myself on his front step, knocking on his door before I’m ready. I hear someone throwing dead bolts, and I hurriedly swipe at my face.

I’m a mess.

What am I doing?

If I’m lucky, they won’t call the cops and say a maniac is on the front step.

The door opens, and Rev’s foster brother stands there. I don’t think Rev ever told me his name.

He takes one look at me and says, “Rev isn’t here.”

That brings on a fresh round of tears before I can stop them. I press my hands to my eyes. “Of course not. Okay.” I turn away.

“Wait—do you want me to get Kristin? Or—”

“Matthew, honey?” A woman’s voice calls down from the upstairs. “Who is it?”

“No. No.” I wave my hand at him and choke on tears. “No.”

“But—are you okay? She can call him—”

“No.” I run down the steps. This was such a mistake. This is so humiliating. I’m such a fool.

I collapse in the grass beside the church again. The stained glass windows glitter in the sunlight.

I try Cait again. Still nothing. It’s almost four, so she should be home by now. This time I leave a tearful message. “Call me? Okay? Call me.”

I hang up.

Almost immediately, my phone pings with a text. My heart leaps. Is it Rev?

It’s not Rev. It’s Ethan.

Ethan: Hey. I haven’t heard from you all day. All OK?

Emma: No. Not OK.

Ethan: What’s wrong?

Emma: Everything.

My phone lights up with an incoming call. It’s Ethan.

I don’t even hesitate. I swipe to answer.

“Hello,” I say, my voice thick with tears.

“Emma. What’s wrong?”

His voice sounds exactly the same as it does in-game, which is surprising for some reason.

My breath hitches. “My mom is selling the house. She took my dog away. There were people there looking at it. I’ve been trying to call my friend—”

“Whoa. Slow down. She took your dog?”

“She took her to a kennel so people could look at the house.” My voice breaks and I start crying again. “I don’t know where we’re going to live.”

“Oh, Emma. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know where to go. My friend won’t answer her phone. I can’t go home because those people are there.”

“Do you want me to come get you?”

His voice is so kind. I sniff and swipe at my eyes. “You don’t even know me.”

He gives a short, self-deprecating laugh. “I do know you. Kind of.” He pauses. “We can go for coffee or something. Where are you?”

“I’m in the grass beside Saint Patrick’s. In Annapolis.”

“Funny.”

“Why funny?”

“Because that’s where we go to church. I’m fifteen minutes away. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” I take a long, shuddering breath. “Thanks.”

“See you soon.”