The next night, as I was walking her home, she asked me about my father.
"He's all right, I reckon," I said. "But he's not around much."
"Do you miss that? Not growing up with him around?"
"Sometimes."
"I miss my mom, too," she said, "even though I never even knew her."
It was the first time I'd ever considered that Jamie and I might have something in common. I let that sink in for a while.
"It must be hard for you," I said sincerely. "Even though my father's a stranger to me, at least he's still around."
She looked up at me as we walked, then faced forward again. She tugged gently at her hair again. I was beginning to notice that she did this whenever she was nervous or wasn't sure what to say.
"It is, sometimes. Don't get me wrong-I love my father with all my heart-but there are times when I wonder what it would have been like to have a mother around. I think she and I would have been
able to talk about things in a way that my father and I can't."
I assumed she was talking about boys. It wasn't until later that I learned how wrong I was.
"What's it like, living with your father? Is he like how he is in school?"
"No. He's actually got a pretty good sense of humor."
"Mason?" I blurted out. I couldn't even imagine it.
I think she was shocked to hear me call him by his first name, but she let me off the hook and didn't respond to my comment.
Instead she said, "Don't look so surprised. You'll like him, once you get to know him."
"I doubt if I'll ever get to know him."
"You never know, Landon," she said, smiling, "what the Lord's
plan is."
I hated when she said things like that. With her, you just knew she talked to the Lord every day, and you never knew what the "Big Guy upstairs" had told her. She might even have a direct ticket into heaven, if you know what I mean, being as how good a person she was.
"How would I get to know him?" I asked.
She didn't answer, but she smiled to herself, as if she knew some secret that she was keeping from me. Like I said, I hated it when she did that.
The next night we talked about her books.
"Why do you always carry it with you?" I asked.
Now, I assumed she carried the book around simply because she was the teacher's daughter. It wasn't that big of an assumption, given how Madon felt about literature and all. But the Book she carried was old and the cover was kind of ratty looking, and I figured that she'd be the kind of person who would buy a new one every year or so just to help out the Books publishing industry or to show her renewed dedication to the studies or something.
She walked a few steps before answering.
"It was my mother's," she said simply.
"Oh. . . ." I said it like I'd stepped on someone's pet turtle, squashing it under my shoe.
She looked at me. "It's okay, Landon. How could you have known?"
"I'm sorry I asked. . . ."
"Don't be. You didn't mean anything by it." She paused. "My mother and father were given this Book for their wedding, but my mom was the one who claimed it first. She read it all the time, especially whenever she was going through a hard time in her life. There's something about this book and the story in it, it's always give me the answers I am searching for."
I thought about the miscarriages. Amelia went on.
"She loved to read it at night, before she went to sleep, and she had it with her in the hospital when I was born. When my father found out that she had died, he carried this book and me out of
the hospital at the same time."
"I'm sorry," I said again. Whenever someone tells you something
sad, it's the only thing you can think to say, even if you've already said it before.
"It just gives me a way to . . . to be a part of her. Can you understand that?" She wasn't saying it sadly, just more to let me know the answer to my question. Somehow that made it worse. After she told me the story, I thought of her growing up with Mason again, and I didn't really know what to say. As I was
thinking about my answer, though, I heard a car blare its horn from behind us, and both Amelia and I stopped and turned around at the same time as we heard it pulling over to the side.
Eric and Diana were in the car, Eric on the driver's side, Diana on the side closest to us.
"Well, lookee who we have here," Eric said as he leaned over the steering wheel so that I could see his face. I hadn't told him I'd been walking Amelia home, and in the curious way that teenage minds work, this new development took priority over anything
that I was feeling about Amelia's story.
"Hello, Eric. Hello, Diana," Amelia said cheerfully.
"Walking her home, Landon?" I could see the little devil behind Eric's smile.
"Hey, Eric," I said, wishing he'd never seen me.
"It's a beautiful night for strolling, isn't it?" Eric said. I think that because Diana was between him and Amelia, he felt a little bolder than he usually was in Amelia's presence. And there was no
way he could let this opportunity pass without sticking it to me.Amelia looked around and smiled. "Yes, it is."
Eric looked around, too, with this wistful look in his eyes before taking a deep breath. I could tell he was faking it.
"Boy, it really is nice out there." He sighed and glanced toward us as he shrugged.
"I'd offer you a ride, but it wouldn't be half as nice as actually walking under the stars, and I wouldn't want you two to miss it."
He said this like he was doing us both a favor.
"Oh, we're almost to our house anyway," Amelia said. "I was going to offer Landon a cup of cider. Would you like to meet us there? We have plenty."
A cup of cider? At her house? She hadn't mentioned that. . . .
I put my hands in my pocket, wondering if this could get any worse.
"Oh, no . . . that's all right. We were just heading off to Cecil's Diner."
"On a school night?" she asked innocently.
"Oh, we won't be out too late," he promised, "but we should
probably be going. Enjoy your cider, you two."
"Thanks for stopping to say hello," Amelia said, waving.
Eric got the car rolling again, but slowly. Amelia probably thought he was a safe driver. He really wasn't, though he was good at getting out of trouble when he'd crashed into something. I remember one time when he'd told his mother that a cow had jumped out in front of the car and that's why the grille and fender
were damaged. "It happened so fast, Mom, the cow came out of nowhere. It just darted out in front of me, and I couldn't stop in time." Now, everyone knows cows don't exactly dart anywhere, but his mother believed him. She used to be a head cheerleader, too, by the way.
Once they'd pulled out of sight, Jamie turned to me and smiled.
"You have nice friends, Landon."
"Sure I do." Notice the careful way I phrased my answer.
After dropping Amelia off-no, I didn't stay for any cider-I started back to my house, grumbling the whole time.