“Why didn’t your mom come?”
Cady sighed. “She’s totally disappointed in me that I’m going to Harvard.”
Andrea frowned at her for a moment, puzzled, before her face eased into a smile, and she laughed. “You’re joking, I get it this time.”
Cady smiled, revealing nothing more. “See you in the room.” Walking out, she could see Andrea’s uncertain gaze follow her, reflected over and over again in the row of mirrors.
So not one, but two painful memories chased Cady back to her empty bedroom. She changed quickly and climbed under the covers of her bottom bunk, but she couldn’t fight off both memories at once. As she tried to sleep, her mind replayed that awful memory of the night she’d discussed those college acceptance letters with her parents at dinner.
* * *
—
SHE REMEMBERED HOW her father sat back in his chair as he said it: “Harvard. You got in—really?”
She remembered the conscious effort it took not to look at her mother’s face the whole time.
Then her father took a deep breath and summoned a smile. “Well, that’s wonderful.”
“Andy.” Her mother gave him a look as if he were making a bad joke.
“It is. It’s an incredibly prestigious university, not to mention highly selective, and they picked our daughter. That’s a very big deal, Cady, congratulations.” He raised his water glass in Cady’s direction.
“Well, that’s true, honey, and I hope you feel proud of yourself, because I am.” Her mother nodded to Cady briefly. “She’s worked very hard, that’s why she got into many other top, top schools, including Ivies, so she has her pick. Of course she’s not picking Harvard.”
“Have you asked her?” Her father raised his brows at his daughter. “Do you want to go?”
“Actually, I do,” Cady answered, softly.
“All right, then I support you. That’s an excellent choice.”
“Wait, what?” Her mother’s mouth dropped open. “Cady, you don’t want to go there.”
“It was my first choice school.”
“Before, but not now. How could you want to now?”
Her father turned to her mother. “Don’t jump on her. She gets to make her own decision.”
“I can’t believe we’re even having this discussion!” Her mother gave a laugh, but her eyes flared. “Is this about attention? I mean, first the scattering ceremony, and now this?”
Cady’s cheeks flushed with heat. “No, that day, I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean to—”
“Then why are you doing this?”
Cady looked down to shield herself from her mother’s glare. “I just want to—”
Her father interrupted, “Karen, you can’t blame Harvard. We have to face the fact that Eric was schizophrenic. It was his mental illness, not the school, that became too much for him. Harvard didn’t kill him.”
“It didn’t save him,” her mother snapped. “I brought my son home from Harvard’s campus in a body bag. Some cafeteria there is where he ate his last meal. I still get overdue notices from Lamont Library for books he didn’t return. I received a letter of condolence on Harvard stationery with that stupid fucking crimson seal that I hope never to see again.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “It is home to the greatest tragedy of my lifetime. It is his tomb!”
“Mom.” Cady reached across the table to touch her mother. She felt terrible, and in that moment, she was ready to change her mind, until—
“And you.” Her mother recoiled from her and stared at her, wild-eyed. “What are you thinking? How could you even think to do this to us? To me?”
“I want—”
“Want what? To drag us through four more years of agony? To keep me up more nights than I already am? Honestly, I don’t know why you’d want to go through it yourself. How could you tolerate it? It’s like his death means nothing to you.”
Cady felt the heat rise to the surface of her skin, reddening her cheeks as though she’d been slapped.
Her father held up a hand. “Enough. That is enough. We are all grieving for Eric, yes, in our own ways, but we are all grieving, and we will be for a long, long time. But I will not allow this family to be defined by this loss forever. I won’t. Yes, Eric’s death has cast a shadow over our lives. But Karen, you seem hell-bent on drawing some indelible chalk outline around it.”
“What do you want me to do? I’m his mother!”
“You’re her mother, too!”
Her mother’s last words before leaving the table: “Not tonight.”
* * *
—
CADY AWOKE TO the sound of her own terrified voice, “No, no, no!” Still dreaming, she had put her arms up as if to push someone from on top of her, but instead her hands made contact with the honeycomb wiring of the mattress above her. The room was pitch black, but slowly her senses returned to her: the plasticky scent of her brand-new, extra-long bedsheets; the sound of her heavy and rapid breathing; the cold sweat at the back of her neck; the feeling of restraint coming from the sheets tangled around her legs, as if she’d been tossing and turning for a while. Finally her eyes adjusted to see a girl’s hand waving at her over the side of the upper bunk.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just me,” said Ranjoo’s voice from above. “I tried to be quiet, but I’m still getting the hang of this top bunk thing. It’s really creaky.”
Cady exhaled a long and shaky breath. “That’s okay. I didn’t know what was above me. And I think I was having a nightmare.”
“Then maybe it was good I woke you? But sorry. Good night.”
“Good night,” she said to the mattress.
But as Cady’s fear dissipated, the loneliness she had felt earlier came back to take its place.
She reached for her phone plugged in on the floor and checked the time: 3:11 a.m. She scrolled idly through her messages, looking for some source of comfort. She had texted her high school best friend, Liz, earlier in the day, but she hadn’t responded, probably too busy with her new friends at Penn. Cady went to her Favorites list and let the highlight bar alight on Eric’s name. When they were little, if she got scared at night or had a bad dream, she would go into Eric’s room and tell him about it. Sometimes she even made up a nightmare to tell him as an excuse to stay up with him. On impulse, Cady keyed in a text message, fingers moving furtively, as if someone might catch her, and clicked Send. She replaced the phone on the floor beside her bed and pressed her face back into the pillow.