The Seeker: Dreamer Part 9

"Um, we left it kind of open, actually. Oh, I don't know, Ally. He's not what I expected, you know? I thought it would be miserable and we wouldn't have anything to talk about, but it was actually kind of fun. He's a lot different when he's by himself. He was really easy to talk to," she admitted.

"Well, I think it's great, Tara. I'm not even going to tease you about it. He's a really nice guy and he's been good for Jack."

"Thanks, Ally. It's kind of embarra.s.sing, you know? I mean, after I made such a big deal about not liking him."

"Hey, what are best friends for?" The thought of us dating cousins was amazing. Now, I had to convince Jack to get back with the program.

I had prepared for Friday, Valentine's Day, all week. I planned to have him pick me up after work and then we would have dinner at El Patron, where we had first danced together. Then we would take the tram up to Sandia Peak and enjoy the romantic view. I hoped to remind him of all the best things about our relations.h.i.+p.

Of course, it didn't work out like I had planned. The stars seemed to be aligned against me from the get-go. First, he was more than a half hour late picking me up so we missed our reservation. When we got to the restaurant, the wait was nearly an hour. We sat in stony silence for the most part, every conversational volley on my part met with monosyllabic answers on his. Then, he picked a fight. He said we shouldn't have even tried to go out on Valentine's Day because it was sure to be crowded everywhere. We were finally seated, but so far away from the dance area it didn't begin to resemble the time we had been there with Megan. Everything was falling apart, and I couldn't manage to keep my temper any longer. "Fine, Jack. I get it, okay? Let's just finish dinner and then you can take me home."

He pulled up in front of my house and turned the car off. Normally, this would be the time for heated kisses, trying not to let ourselves go too far. Tonight, it was the time for cold silence in the car. "Jack, what's happening to us?" I whispered in the dark.

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I need some time, Ally. I think we should take a break. I can't deal with everything right now."

"What?" I cried. "What does that mean? What kind of break? Why?"

He rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. "I don't know, Ally. I just can't handle everything right now. I think... I need to be by myself for a while."

"But...I love you, Jack. I thought you loved me. People in love are supposed to help each other deal with the c.r.a.ppy stuff in their lives. You don't...you don't love me anymore? You don't want me?"

"G.o.d, Ally. I don't know what I want right now. Everything feels so out of control right now. I'm so messed up and I don't know what I'm feeling." I could see his eyes s.h.i.+ning and his lips starting to tremble. "I can't do this anymore."

So this was it. He was breaking up with me. He didn't want me anymore. Oh, G.o.d. I needed to get out of the car. Right. Now. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. I fumbled for the door handle, desperate to get out. He followed me to the front door.

"Ally, I'm sorry. I-"

"I have to go, Jack." I tried to hold back my tears. "Please let me go," I begged, squeezing my eyes shut.

He nodded, motioning for me to go in. As I closed the door, I got a last glimpse of his face. It was no consolation, but he looked as miserable as I felt.

Can I just say that Valentine's Day sucks?

I made it inside and raced to the downstairs bathroom to throw up the little bit of food I had been able to eat at dinner. I curled up on the floor by the toilet and cried hysterically, making myself sick again. That's how Grams found me when she came in from the senior citizen's Valentine's mixer she had been attending. She managed to get me to the couch and held me while I cried some more. I wasn't coherent enough to talk, but she figured out the gist of what had happened. I finally cried myself to sleep and woke up Sat.u.r.day morning to a quiet house and a hollow chest.

CHAPTER TEN.

"Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead."

Shakespeare King Lear (4.7.46) The next few days were a blur. I spent Sat.u.r.day and Sunday in my room, lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I only came out for meals so Grams and Mom wouldn't come in to get me, but I merely pushed the food around on my plate. I cried myself to sleep each night and was late getting up Monday morning. The worst part of the day was physics, where Jack and I were lab partners. We couldn't get out of it, so we worked together with as little communication as possible. It was awful. Lunch was terrible. I hadn't told anyone, not even Tara, that Jack and I had broken up. She was shocked when I showed up at the lunch table by myself.

"Oh, sweetie," she said as she hugged me.

I hugged her back briefly before pulling away. I needed to keep it together at school. I could lose it again after school. "Please don't ask. I don't want to talk about it right now." Or ever, I thought.

Remy was surprisingly gentle about it, making me like him more. "He is the loser, cherie. I can't believe he let you slip through his fingers. What a fool! I will be happy to take over."

I couldn't even laugh. "Thanks, Remy. I'll take a raincheck, okay?" I still felt the need to shy away from him when he tried to touch me. I caught a surprisingly frustrated look on his face when I did this.

"I know," he announced. "It is time for us to, what is it you Americans say? 'Hang out' tonight. That's it. No, no arguments," he said as I began to object. "I am not letting you sit and wallow in your misery tonight! We will go out and have fun. You'll see. I can take your mind off of this ridiculous boy, you know. I will pick you up at six o'clock."

"How do you have a driver's license? I didn't think they gave those to exchange students. And how do you know where I live?"

"Ah, ma belle, there are so many things about me you do not yet know. Tonight, we will begin to repair this, no?" He was such a flirt and said the cheesiest things; I had a hard time figuring out when he was serious. But he was really trying to cheer me up, so I was willing to overlook it. And he was so ridiculously good-looking it was easy. Not that I was contemplating dating him or anything, but he was easy on the eyes. And I couldn't help wondering what Jack would think of me going out so soon after we broke up if he heard about it. Would it even bother him? I realize how shallow it sounds, but I hope I can be forgiven.

Remy picked me up promptly at six, coming in to charm my mom and my grandmother. Both had raised their eyebrows when I informed them I was going out with another guy, but thankfully they withheld the commentary. We drove to a nightclub, Graham Central Station, which Remy informed me was having a teen night. I had never even thought about going to a teen club as it was so far out of my range of experience. We met Travis and Dustin out front. Remy told me Tara and Mat would be joining us shortly. Well, Jack would be sure to hear about my date if Mat was here. I wondered if he would care.

I would never have believed it, but I had a really nice time. Three nights after I broke up with the love of my life, I was out dancing and having fun. I didn't want to think about what it said about me, but it was sure better than eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's and crying myself to sleep. Remy didn't let me sit out a single dance and it was a festive atmosphere; none of the dances were slow. People were here to party, not get romantic. It was exactly what I needed. I even managed to keep from touching Remy during the evening. Tara and Mat looked like they were having a great time, but I could see she was still trying to maintain some distance.

Remy dropped me off and didn't try to get creepy, which I was truly grateful for. I thought I might be able to be friends with him, but that was definitely it. I had no romantic aspirations toward him whatsoever and I didn't get the feeling he was losing sleep over me, either. "Thanks, for tonight. I guess I really needed to get out."

"Of course you did, cherie. I'm glad you had a good time. We should do it again next week, no?"

"Sure," I said. "Good night, Remy."

I still cried myself to sleep.

I waited for Jack to ask me about the date, but he didn't. All through physics the next day he worked stoically beside me, handing me items when I asked, asking for items in return. His jaw was flexing throughout cla.s.s, but he never asked. It was depressing, to say the least. Did he not care? Was I so easy to get over?

I had arranged to meet Brian at his office after cheerleading practice so we could go over a few of the case files before heading out to interview the people who still lived in the neighborhood, including Ashley's mother. I had confessed to Brian I had already met her, telling him about the book, which was ostensibly the reason for my intense interest in the case. I didn't want any awkward moments when we met her later. We found in the case files that not only her mother, but the next door neighbor, and the neighbors across the street were still living where they had thirty years before. Brian planned for us to talk to each of them this afternoon. It was good to have something to take my mind off of Jack for a little while.

"Ally, is your mom okay? She's been acting kind of strange lately," Brian asked as we drove to Ashley's neighborhood.

"Um, well she has been a little off. I was thinking she doesn't feel very well. Maybe she's sick or something." I wasn't entirely comfortable talking about my mom to her boyfriend, but he was concerned and I felt bad for him.

"She seems a little distant. Has she said anything? Is she mad at me or anything?"

"Brian, I'm not the expert on that. Seriously, dude," I said.

"Sorry. Jennifer told me you broke up with your boyfriend. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"You could arrest him," I mused. Brian chuckled. "No, but thanks. Hey, I'll keep an eye on Mom, okay? I'm sure she'll snap out of it."

We pulled up to Mrs. Hayes' house. She was every bit as nice as she had been the last time, but didn't have any more information than I had received previously. It was interesting to watch Brian question her; he was subtler than Tara and I had been. After talking to her for about a half-hour, we headed next door. David Moore was puttering around in his rose garden in front of his house and invited us in for coffee. He was somewhere near 60, balding on top, with a paunch.

"No, thank you, Mr. Moore. We do have a few questions. We won't take up more than a few minutes of your time. I understand Ashley Hayes babysat for you." Brian had pulled out a small notebook, just like on TV. Cool.

"Oh, yes. She was our regular babysitter. My girls loved when Ashley came over. It's so sad, what happened to her. The girls were devastated when she disappeared." He clipped a few dead heads off a rose bush.

"Did you know Ashley's boyfriend, Scott Alder?"

"Well, I'd seen him a few times, but I don't believe I ever spoke to him. I remember he was a suspect, wasn't he?"

"Mr. Moore, is your wife still living? May we speak to her?" Brian asked briskly.

"We divorced years ago. She took the girls with her. They moved to California."

"I see. Well, I'm going to need her contact information, if you don't mind."

"Of course. I'll be right back." He put down his clippers and went inside the house.

"Anything interesting yet?" I asked Brian.

He shook his head. "Nah. It's pretty routine so far. Most police work is boring follow-up like this. It's nothing like you see on television."

Mr. Moore brought the contact information and we headed across the street. Stella and Don Graves had lived in the house directly across from the Hayes' house for 35 years. They were both retired and greeted us warmly, insisting we come inside for coffee.

"Oh, I was so upset to hear about poor little Ashley," Mrs. Graves said as she bustled around preparing coffee. "She was such a sweet girl. I never understood why she would run away. Now we know, I guess. It's so hard to believe she was murdered!" Mr. Graves said nothing, but patted her hand as she sat down.

"So, did either of you see anything that day? Did you see Ashley? Did she arrive home?" Brian had his notebook out again.

Mrs. Graves shook her head. "Well, we were both at work. It was when we got home that we saw the police cars across the street and went over to see what had happened."

"What about your children? Were any of them home? Did they see anything?"

"Let's see, Mark would have been twelve. He wasn't home until after baseball practice, which was after we got home. Darrell was only eight at the time. I picked him up from his after-school sitter on the way home," Mrs. Graves replied.

"Did you know Scott Alder, Ashley's boyfriend?"

"I met him," said Mrs. Graves. "I was visiting with Angela one afternoon when they both came in. Ashley introduced him. He seemed like such a nice young man."

"Were you aware Ashley was pregnant?" Brian asked.

Mrs. Graves looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Well, yes. Angela confided it to me. We were close friends, you see. She was understandably upset about it, especially at first. But after a few weeks she seemed to accept it. Ashley and Scott were both 18, after all. They were planning a wedding right after graduation. Angela was looking forward to having a grandchild, even if it was a bit sooner than expected."

"Well, thank you both for your time. Here's my card, if you remember anything else."

"And here's mine, in case you can't get hold of Detective Keller," I inserted as I handed Mr. Graves one of the cards Tara had made.

At the car, Brian let me have it. "Ally, no more handing out your cards. I have voicemail, you know. They can leave a message."

"Yes, sir," I replied meekly. "I just wanted them to have options." Brian rolled his eyes. "So, what's our next step?"

"I'll try to track down Mr. Moore's ex-wife. And we wait on the autopsy results, which will give us more information, hopefully, about the manner of her death."

"How long will that take? I would have thought they would have finished it already," I said.

"It's not like it is on TV, Ally, I told you that. Autopsies take a lot longer than one episode of CSI. It could be months before we hear anything."

"I like TV better," I muttered.

Over the next few weeks, Brian and I continued to research the case. He let me look at the case files while I was at the police station only, so I spent quite a bit of time there after school. He had tried to contact David Moore's ex-wife, but so far none of his messages had been returned. Although I was miserable about Jack, having an outside interest helped. This way I only cried at night instead of all afternoon as well. The only consolation was Jack looked as miserable as I felt. He had dark circles under his eyes-mine had finally gone away since I wasn't having nightmares any more, only to return when Jack dumped me-and he looked like he had lost weight. I didn't know if it was from missing me or from dealing with his dad. We didn't talk. I know my mom and Grams were worried about me, so I tried really hard to keep it together in front of them. I spent a lot of time with my head in my pillow, trying to m.u.f.fle the sobs. Tara had given up trying to get me to care about what I looked like; I had gone back to my slovenly jeans and sweats.h.i.+rts habit. I couldn't begin to work up the energy to care about what I wore. I didn't bother to wear makeup, either. Remy took me out several evenings each week, most often to a place where we could dance or enjoy music. I looked forward to these outings because I could forget for a few hours how my heart had been ripped out. I know, dramatic much?

My mom was another source of worry. She had several more crying incidents and was still sneaking home to nap a couple times a week. Brian was really worried about her and pestered me for information any chance he got. One Sat.u.r.day morning in early March, I was on my way downstairs for cereal when I pa.s.sed by my mom's room and heard what sounded like her barfing into the toilet. I ran in and held her hair back for her while she finished. I handed her a warm washcloth and helped her back to her bed.

"Mom, what's wrong? Is it the stomach flu?"

She sat on the bed, her arms on her knees, hunched over in misery. She shook her head.

I sat next to her, rubbing small circles on her back. I thought back over the last month and a half, with Mom sleeping so much, her crying jags, her enhanced bust line, and now her vomiting. It finally clicked. "Mom, are you pregnant?" I whispered.

She nodded miserably and said, "I think so." Then she started crying.

I pulled her into my arms and stroked her hair. I must say I was floored, yet grateful we were talking about her being pregnant and not me. It was rather ironic, the teenage daughter comforting her mother about an unplanned pregnancy. "Hey, it's going to be okay. It is Brian, right?"

She laughed slightly at my lame attempt at humor. "Yes, of course."

"Have you told him yet?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't know how to tell him. He's going to think I'm trying to trap him or something."

"What? That's crazy! He's not going to think that. He's in love with you. He's going to be excited. He's been so worried about you, Mom. You need to tell him. Now."

She nodded. "I know. I just need to think."

"Mom, you don't need to think. You need to call your boyfriend and tell him he's going to be a dad. Mom, this is good news, you know? I'm going to be a big sister."

"How can you think so, Ally? How could I have done this again? What kind of person gets pregnant out of wedlock twice? I'm a terrible role model! How many times did I preach safe s.e.x to you?" She wailed, now beginning to sob.

"Well, it was more Grams than you, actually. Maybe she should have bought you some condoms, huh?"

"Oh, Ally! How can you not hate me? Aren't you disappointed in me?"

"Disappointed? Not even a little bit. Mom, I'm happy for you. It's not like you're a 15-year-old who's going to have to drop out of high school and live on welfare. Is it that you don't love Brian? You don't want to be with him?"

"No! I love him. I want to marry him. But now he'll feel trapped. How am I going to tell him?"

"Mom, that's c.r.a.p. Don't do this to yourself. Call him." But I couldn't get through to her, at least not right then. I kissed her hair and left her curled up on her bed, and went to find Grams. Mom had given me permission to tell her the news.

Grams wasn't terribly surprised. She had been putting two and two together as well. She advised giving my mom some time to let it sink in before we started worrying about her.

It was much later that it finally sunk in for me: I was going to have a sibling. Finally, I would have a little brother or sister, and even though it wasn't the ideal set of circ.u.mstances, I couldn't help being excited. It was nice to have some good news for a change.