Maybe Lila can stay for dinner tonight, I thought. With Uncle Bobby gone, the table would seem so empty, and I was actually afraid of my grandfather talking about the poisoned boy, afraid that neither of us would mention Willie’s name, either now or ever, just the way Grandpa avoided talking about my parents.
Unfortunately, Lila couldn’t stay. She hadn’t told me, but her parents were taking her and her older sister out to celebrate her father getting a major promotion at his company. I could see it was something she had known about for a few days, but she had been reluctant to mention good news. Like most people right now, she didn’t want to make it seem like everything was just hunky-dory for them while everything was horrible for me.
“Everyone asks about you every day, especially Mr. Leshner,” she said to make me feel a little better.
Mr. Leshner was our social studies teacher. Everyone agreed that he made the subject interesting. I had never gotten anything less than an A in his class, and he kept predicting I would be the valedictorian when I was a senior.
“And, of course, Aaron,” she added.
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t push him or the things we had all planned to do during the upcoming Christmas break out of my mind. Lila and I had been toying with the idea of having our own New Year’s Eve party and sneaking in some alcoholic drinks. Her parents were considering letting us use their house. Some of our other girlfriends would stay over, too, maybe even one or two of the boys.
But that was all before.
This afternoon, as we did some homework together, she made a few comments about people in school, but not once did she mention Willie, nor did I.
Grandpa came home just before she left. He looked in on us. It was the first time he had done so this week.
“Hello, girls,” he said.
“Hi, Mr. Arnold.”
“Joining us for dinner, Lila?”
“Not tonight.”
“Her parents are taking them out to celebrate her father’s promotion,” I explained for her quickly.
“Oh, great. I think I heard something about that. Congratulate your dad for me.”
“I will.”
He nodded, glanced at me, and walked on to his room.
“Everyone wonders if your grandfather will ever remarry,” Lila said. It took me by complete surprise. “Do you?” she asked.
“No,” I said. The whole idea seemed foreign, even a little terrifying to me.
“I heard my mother talking to some of her friends about him. They all think he’s very handsome but also the most eligible bachelor because he’s so rich and successful.”
“He’s not a bachelor. He’s a widower,” I said.
“He’s not old,” she said, with an insistence that annoyed me.
“He can’t love anyone like he loved my grandmother. Any other woman would be quite disappointed.”
She shrugged. “Maybe he can’t, but he can love someone enough to marry her, can’t he?”
I didn’t reply. I looked at my math book instead.
“I guess I’d better start home,” she said.
“Have a good time,” I told her. I tried not to sound bitter.
“Thanks. I’ll call you if it’s not too late when I get home.” She paused in the doorway. “Do you think you might want to do something this weekend?”
“No,” I said sharply and quickly. She nodded. I knew she was bored with just coming over to spend time mostly in my room. “But you do something. Don’t worry about me.”
“We’ll see. ’Bye,” she said.