Hummingbird Heart (22 page)

They all gathered up their stuff and left, no one saying much at all. Toni barely looked at me. I wanted to tell her I was sorry that I'd told Jax her secret, but she didn't give me a chance to say anything. Jax barely looked at me either. I waited until I heard the front door slam shut; then I walked downstairs to lock it behind them. Instead I found myself stepping outside onto the porch. I watched Jessica and Ian get in their car, and Jax get onto his bike. He handed Toni his spare helmet, the one I usually wore, and she stepped onto the bike behind him.

Engines started up, headlights appeared in the dark street and seconds later they disappeared around the corner. I held on to the railing and leaned out, breathing in the night air and letting the rain fall on my face, cold and clean against my hot cheeks.

TW
en
TY-F
our

When I finally crawled out of bed the next day, it was almost noon. It was barely even light in my room. Rain poured down, the wind howled and the sky was a dark, leaden gray. Last night came rushing back in all its stupid miserableness. I stared out the window. I was pretty sure that the thing with me and Jax was over. It felt like a failure and that bothered me a bit, but I didn't feel devastated or crushed or any of the things other girls said they felt when they broke up with guys. Mostly what I felt was an odd sense of relief. Until I thought of Toni and our fight and what I had done. There was a sick, heavy feeling deep in my stomach.

I picked up the phone and dialed her number. One ring, two, three…Her voice mail clicked on. “Hey, it's Toni. Leave me a message and I'll call you back. Don't hang up…I have enough hangups already.”

I hung up anyway. I couldn't believe I'd told Jax that she was pregnant. What the hell was wrong with me?

Karma was lying on the couch in her pajamas, reading a book and eating toast. I could smell peanut butter. “Feels weird, doesn't it?” She spoke without lifting her eyes from her book. “Like a sick day or something.”

I knew what she meant. It was too quiet in here, too dark outside. We had nothing to do and nowhere to go. I thought of the Dr. Seuss book Mom used to read to me when I was little:
So all we could do was just sit, sit, sit, sit.
“Yeah. It does.”

I'd stayed up half the night, long after everyone had gone, messing around on my computer. Wikipedia said bone marrow was the soft tissue found in the hollow interior of bones. I'd never thought of bones as hollow.

I lifted my legs and hung them over the arm of my chair. Marrow, apparently, was also a kind of squash, a character in the X-Men comics, and the name of a sci-fi novel. I punched my thigh with my fist, hard.

It figured that bones weren't as solid as they looked. Nothing was. “I'm going out,” I told Karma.

I pedaled as hard as I could and made it through downtown and to the harbor in less than ten minutes. When I got off my bike, my legs felt as limp as cooked spaghetti and my hands were shaking. I pulled off my helmet and locked my bike to a No Parking sign in front Mark's hotel.

I didn't know what I was doing. All the way here I'd been having these conversations in my mind—well, not conversations exactly, because Mark never said anything. There was just all this stuff I wanted to say to him, running through my mind in a full-volume shout. Like,
What gives you the right to come here and mess up my
life?
Stuff like that. But I didn't have a plan, and really, none of this was his fault, and now that I was standing outside his hotel it all seemed a bit stupid and melodramatic. I thought maybe I wouldn't go in after all. Maybe I'd just go home.

I turned my back on the building and watched a lone jogger running along the path near the waterfront. A seagull walked across the grass, pecking at some piece of food it had found. In the harbor, the roar of a seaplane engine briefly blotted out all the other sounds. I felt like lying down on the wet grass and going to sleep.

“Dylan?”

I turned around slowly. Mark was standing there, and beside him, holding his hand, was a little girl in a shiny yellow raincoat covered with drawings of big green frogs.

“We've just been for a walk,” he said. “Dylan, this is Casey.”

I stared at her for a long moment before I managed to drag my gaze back to him. “Um, I was just riding my bike.”

“Were you looking for us? Have you been…?” He gestured at the hotel.

I shook my head. “No. Not exactly. I don't know.”

We stood there for a long moment. I noticed that Casey had matching frog rain boots with googly eyes on the toes. “I guess I better, you know.” I pointed at my bike. “Get going.”

“Daddy?” Casey was tugging at Mark's sleeve. “You said we could go in the gift shop again.”

She didn't look like me, I decided. Not at all. She must look like her mom.

“Do you want to come in?” Mark asked. “Perhaps you and Casey could play together a bit? If you wanted?”

Right. I bit off a sarcastic reply:
What am I, four?
“I should go.”

Casey tugged at her dad's arm again. “Daddy, I want to go to the gift shop.” Her mouth actually turned down at the corners, way down, like a little emoticon sad face.

“Are you sure? Casey has this great dollhouse. I bet she'd love to show you.”

“How come you want me to hang out now?” I asked. I could see Casey watching me and chose my words carefully. “I already said I'd help out.”

“Sorry.” He looked uncomfortable. “I didn't mean to pressure you.”

I shrugged. “I just wondered why, that's all.”

“I'd like…” He cleared his throat. “I know I'm a bit preoccupied right now. With…” He nodded toward Casey. “But I know she'd enjoy showing it to you. And, well, you are my…like I told you before, I'd like to get to know you.”

Daughter
. He'd almost said it. “Fine,” I said. “I'll come see her dollhouse. But I can't stay long.” Then I blushed. It wasn't like he'd asked me to stay.

Casey's dollhouse was set up in the middle of their suite's living room, and it took up most of the available space. I'd never been into dolls or dollhouses, but I couldn't help being impressed. It was three stories high, wooden, with a shingled roof and gently curving circular staircases, and it was filled with perfect miniature furniture, rugs and curtains and everything.

“How did you get this on the plane?” I asked.

Mark laughed. “Lisa did that. It all comes apart, but it's a big job. Took her three hours to set it all up when they arrived.”

“Wow.” I picked up a tiny clawfoot tub. “This is amazing.”

“That's a bathtub,” Casey informed me.

She didn't have any hair, but other than that she didn't look sick at all. Her head was mostly covered in a cute knit hat, all pink and green stripes, and she was wearing a matching pink and green sweater. She had a round, fat-cheeked face and dimples when she smiled. She didn't look like a kid who was dying. “It's a great bathtub,” I agreed. “I like the little feet.”

Casey had moved on. She picked up a crib made of white painted wooden slats as narrow as toothpicks. “This is for the baby.”

“Cute. Do you have one like that? At home, I mean?”

She looked at me disdainfully. “I sleep in a big-girl bed. Not a
baby
one.”

“Of course you do.”

Casey pointed at an upstairs bedroom. “This is the mommy and daddy's room. See?”

Two dolls lay side by side on a double bed covered with a white comforter the size of a Kleenex. All very Ken and Barbie. “Where's Casey's mom?” I asked Mark. “I mean, she's here too, right?”

He nodded. “She went out for a run.”

I turned my attention back to the dollhouse. “You know, I bet you'd love Miniature World,” I told Casey. “It's all, you know, scenes set up with miniature stuff.”

“Min…Minner world?”

“Miniature World.” I looked at Mark. He was still standing, leaning against the kitchenette counter. “It's this place downtown. Tourist attraction.”

He nodded. “Let's go there.”

“You too,” Casey informed me.

“Oh, your dad will take you. You'll have fun with your dad.” I looked at Mark for agreement, but instead he smiled at me.

“Why don't we all go? You and Casey could spend some time together.”

I turned my back on Casey and lowered my voice, almost mouthing the words. “Does she know who… I mean, that we're…?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

Casey tugged at my arm again. “What are you
saying
? What are you
talking
about?”

“Nothing.”

“Don't whisper! It's rude.”

Casey had two vertical lines between her eyebrows. Like mine. She'd have wrinkles by sixteen, too, if she didn't stop frowning. Except, of course, she might never make it past four. I swallowed a lump the size of a golf ball and thought of dark blood and hollow bones. “Sure,” I said. “I'll come too.”

“I didn't realize you meant to go there now,” I said to Mark while Casey struggled back into her raincoat and boots. “I mean, today.”

He didn't take his eyes off Casey. “If all this has taught us anything, it's that today's the best time to do things. I'll call Lisa and tell her to meet us there.” Then he looked at me as if he'd just remembered who he was talking to. “Sorry. Is today okay? Did you have to be somewhere else?”

“Not really. No.” I cleared my throat. “I've got my bike. I'll meet you there.”

Cycling down around the inner harbor with the cold rain hard against my face gave me a chance to think. I hadn't intended to meet Casey at all, and I hadn't even been sure I wanted to see Mark again, yet here I was, playing tourist with them. I tightened my grip on the handlebars and wondered why.