Beautiful: Truth's Found When Beauty's Lost Part 26

Megan wished it were a day away. She was ready to get on with her life, though she wasn't exactly sure what that meant. Ellie took a handful of chips from beside her and leaned her head on Megan's shoulder just the way she did when they were little. Megan pushed her shoulder up and nudged Ellie away, making Ellie laugh.

"Mr. Hanson called me today," Mom said in her most annoying singsong voice.

Ellie looked at Mom with naive interest. "Why? Is Megan valedictorian?"

Megan coughed and spit Diet c.o.ke across the coffee table. She jumped up, laughing and coughing, and ran to the kitchen.

She overheard Mom say, "Why do you say things like that? You sound like her now." That made Megan smile.

She came back with a paper towel. Ellie kept her eyes on the television.

"Your cla.s.smates look up to you," Mom said. "I think the teachers do too. And they've done a lot for our family."

Ellie dropped her feet from the coffee table, muttering beneath her breath. She rose from the couch slowly, painfully.

"You aren't going off to your room, young lady."

"Mom, why do you care more about other people than about us? You always force us to do things to make everyone else feel good. What about me? What about our family?"

Megan looked from Ellie to Mom. Go, El.

Mom's face reflected shock. She stared at Ellie and stuttered to explain. "I always care about our family first."

"It never seems like it to me."

Ellie glanced at Megan for support, but Megan didn't want to contribute. Mom wouldn't listen if she said something. She wiped down the coffee table with a paper towel while catching Ellie's frown that said, Thanks for the help.

"Mom, I don't want to go back to school. And why do I have to explain that? Why would I want to go back?"

"The old Ellie would have."

"The old Ellie didn't look like this. The old Ellie didn't have a friend die in the seat beside her. The old Ellie could walk without limping and talk without half her face looking like a monster."

Megan stopped wiping the coffee table. Mom didn't say a word.

"Maybe I'll go back if I can always walk like this, with everyone only seeing one side of me." Ellie walked close to the wall with her damaged side not visible, acting like she was meeting people. "h.e.l.lo, yes, no, that's okay, I'm good over here."

Megan felt her mouth drop, and she stared wide-eyed as Ellie moved around the room.

"Why, yes, I'd love to come with you. Let me get my coat. No, no, I'll get it; you wait here." She walked away with her good side showing. "Thank you for opening the door, but I'd prefer the other side. Strange, I know, but I get carsick on that side of the car. Yes, I know that doesn't seem to make sense. The doctor calls it left.i.tis."

For some reason, this made Megan laugh. It was all so horrible and yet funny to imagine Ellie out in public always walking sideways.

Ellie wasn't done.

"Please, I only kiss on the cheek on first dates. And the second, and-well, okay, all of my dates . . ." Ellie continued acting. "Elspeth Anne Summerfield," she said, sounding just like the princ.i.p.al would at graduation. Then she walked across the room, holding a plant up by her face, pretending to take her diploma after handing the administrator the fern.

It wasn't even that funny, and yet Megan was hysterical. She couldn't stop laughing.

"Stop it!"

They turned to see Mom standing by the couch, her knitting held against her chest. She was red in the face and shaking. Ellie and Megan froze in shock.

"Do you think it's a joke? You think you're the only one who's suffered? You don't know what it's like to get that call."

Ellie's face was pale. And Megan knew it was true-her sister had no idea the pain their parents had suffered. Ellie probably hadn't thought of what it was like for them, and even for her.

"Your dad and I went to the hospital, and they said that one of you was dead. We waited and waited to find out it was Stasia, and that you were alive. I was so happy that it was Stasia."

"Oh, Mom." Ellie crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her mother.

Mom broke down into sobs. "I was so glad."

"It's okay. I'm sorry, Mom."

Megan went to them, too, wrapping her arms around them both. They held each other for a long time, until Ellie said, "I'm sorry. This really hurts. Megan has a death grip."

They pulled away, looked at one another, and then Mom started to chuckle, and then they all laughed.

"This is my grandfather."

Ellie and Will stared at the headstone that Ellie had never seen before this evening. During the funeral, a temporary placard had rested above the open door into the ground. Now her grandfather was under there. She wondered how long it took for his body to begin decomposing. The date of his death was one week before her accident. A week before Stasia's death. If Ellie had died in the accident, her grave might be nearby, maybe right beside her grandfather's, with a headstone giving the barest facts of her entire life.

"I'm going to tell you what I would've said at my grandfather's funeral if I'd had the guts or thought it wouldn't hurt the people there."

"Okay. What would you have said?"

She walked up to the headstone and turned around. She cleared her voice. "My grandfather was a very unhappy man. I loved my grandfather. But he hated me. The more I tried to get him to love me, the more he hated me. I didn't know why. I didn't know he had a wife who broke his heart and left him because of his drinking. I didn't know that he had a lot of mental struggles, that he killed a lot of people in Vietnam, or that he was a prisoner of war for several months. I didn't know very much about my grandfather until everyone started talking about him after he died."

She paused, touching her hand to the cold granite headstone. Will stood with his arms crossed at his chest.

"This is kind of stupid, I know."

He shook his head. "Finish it."

"I guess the last thing I'd say is that I wish I'd known my grandfather when he was younger. And I hope that he finds peace."

Ellie walked back to Will. They stood side by side, staring at the headstone of Edward Blaine Summerfield III.

Will turned to her, studying her face. "That was great."

They wandered through the cemetery, looking at headstones with their dates and names. Some people had died in wars or were veterans; some couples were buried together. There was a section of people all with the same last name.

When they got back to Will's car, he said, "I could fall in love with you."

Before she could respond, he took her arms and pulled her toward him. His lips touched hers gently. He moved his fingers through her hair. "I've wanted to touch your hair for so long."

He pulled back and stared at her. With a hand on either side of her face, he touched along her jaw. She winced, but he held her face gently, with both hands. One hand on the smooth side, the other barely touching the scars.

Stepping back then, Will took a deep breath. "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Is anything happening out at Jonah's Farm?"

"Not tonight. Jonah is down in the city, I heard. We could drive to Mount Shasta for some music in the park or something."

"Sure," she said, though what she wanted was just to be with Will tonight. "Or we could go to my house."

Will shook his head. "I need to get a little more control over myself before I'm hanging out unsupervised at your house. I'm not feeling very harmless right now."

His admission sent a jolt of excitement through her. Ellie longed to go somewhere with him and escape into the feeling she had when they kissed.

As they drove to Mount Shasta, listening to an alternative band from England, they crossed Lake Shasta and its many narrow arms. It had been an unusually wet winter, she'd been told. She'd been in her bubble for so long, she'd lost all sense of seasons or awareness that weather occurred at all.

The lake had filled back up. Their footsteps on the bottom of the lake would disappear, and Ellie thought of her grandmother's bracelet buried somewhere deep underwater.

The small park in the mountain community was littered with groups of people. They got out of the car, and Will went to ask about the festivities. Ellie thought it looked like a miniature Woodstock, with some women dancing on the lawn with banners while other people smoked from bongs.

"How's it going?" a guy said, sitting on the other side of a picnic table near the car. He wore dreadlocks and a thick, woolly coat. Ellie guessed him to be in his late twenties.

"Fine." She glanced around for Will.

"Don't worry. I'm not trying to pick you up."

She self-consciously tried hiding her scarred left side.

"Not that you're not beautiful or anything. Just I saw you come here with that guy."

Ellie nodded. "Okay."

"Wanna smoke?" He wasn't holding a cigarette, but a rolled-up joint.

"It's okay. Thanks, though."

"Weed helps the pain." He motioned to her, indicating her scars. "All over the country, people smoke for medical reasons."

"Is that why you smoke it?"

"Bad back." He raised his eyebrows at that. "'Cause of my back, I get to grow my own plants. Medicinal purposes, of course."

"Of course." Ellie nodded.

Will walked up then. He greeted the guy with a nod and said, "How's it going, man?"

"Fine, really fine."

"Hey, the music is next weekend. Sorry," Will said, rubbing Ellie's arms. "But some people are getting together at a house just down the road."

"Another party?"

"A get-together."

"Of strangers?" She wanted to go home.

"Fellow music lovers."

"Potheads?"

He shrugged. "Mostly."

Ellie smiled. "You could make friends anywhere and get invited to anyone's house."

"It's my international background."

"Is that right?"

He raised an eyebrow. "So you wanna head back home, I can tell."

"I don't want to ruin your night."

"It's fine. I'm giving in to your wishes so when something's really important to me, you can't say no, no matter what."

"Sounds scary."

He laughed. "Let's get some dinner."

Partway through eating a slice of pizza, sitting in Will's car, Ellie realized with a sudden insight that she didn't like her life anymore. She looked at the cheese dripping off the end of the pizza and watched it make a slow dive down to the paper plate on her lap.

"This isn't what I'm supposed to be doing," she said.

Will looked at the string of cheese dripping down. "Most people just eat it."

"I mean, my life now and where I'm going. Or rather, not going."

Will was quiet for a few minutes, then said, "So you want things the way they were before? Your organized and driven life?"

She shook her head. "I didn't like my life then, either, though I believed that I did."

"Wow, what is this? Epiphany pizza?"

She smiled and took a bite of the cheese, eating the string of it like a long noodle. "Maybe. That guy in the park, he thought I'd like to smoke pot. To help with the pain."

"Did that bother you?"

"Not really. I think he's the first person to see my scars and just treat me normal, like my face this way is normal. And we could talk about it."

"And you don't like that, or you do?"