“So, anyway, that’s what she was in school for. Some kind of specialized communications degree. I can’t recall offhand. But she was actually at a game for the school and still on school grounds when a drunk driver plowed into her car as she pulled out of the parking lot.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah, she got really lucky. If she had been pulled out another couple inches, it probably would have T-boned her and killed her, but as it was, it tore the whole front of her car to pieces, and she lost her leg below the knee. They did everything they could to save it, but it was no use.”
“That’s terrible,” I said.
“Yeah, it was, but it just kept going on,” she said. “The school didn’t want to take any responsibility because it was a DUI, but the driver wasn’t insured, even though he worked for the school and was driving a school truck.”
“That seems weirdly cut-and-dry, doesn’t it?”
“You’d think,” she said. “Eventually, the school settled with her for a pretty big amount but not as much as her lawyers were suing them for.”
“That is terrible. To go through all that and then have to fight for compensation. I feel for her.”
“So do I,” Wendy said. “And Dee. Dee and her, they really only have each other. Their Mom is… well, she’s a piece of work. So, it’s just them, really. Dee brought her back to her place and rearranged her whole life to take care of her. It’s why I drop over there from time to time, bringing them food and stuff. Deana’s done so much for Olly and me, I can’t not do something. Just to help Dee with the transition and to help Malia not feel like a burden.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “So, she’s bitter?”
“Maybe,” Wendy said. “She doesn’t really know what to do with herself now, from what I understand. She had her next five years kind of mapped out with school and then internship. So, now that she has to kind of take at least a semester off, maybe a whole year, it throws everything for a loop. Combine that with her wanting to be independent and failing at it… I can see her being fussy.”
“Ahh,” I said. “That all makes much more sense.”
Malia’s story hit me pretty hard. After the horrible time she had, even if she was short with me, she didn’t deserve the hardship she was going through. And she deserved a little leeway while she figured herself out.
“Well, let her and her sister know that I would like to help in any way I can,” I said. “I’m not sure what I could do, but her story gets to me.”
A peculiar look crossed Wendy’s face, and I wasn’t sure I liked it too much. She seemed to be leading with that look, like there was an ulterior motive for my offering to help.
“I’ll pass it along,” she said. “It’s very sweet of you to offer.”
“Well, Dee is your best friend, yes?” I asked. She nodded. “And any friend of yours and Finn’s is a friend of mine. If I can help in any way, even if it goes through you, I’d like to.”
“That’s very sweet. Now eat your pizza before it gets cold.”
I laughed.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Yes, Mommy,” Olly said from his seat on the other end of the table. “Juice?”
Wendy smiled and got up to refill his sippy cup of juice, leaving us alone at the table.
When our pizza was mostly finished and I was as full as I could be, I bid them farewell and got back into my truck, feeling a little less concerned. It probably wasn’t me. Not for a girl who was as strong headed as Wendy said Malia was, who suffered the way she had so recently.
Malia.
Now I had a name to match to her face.
7
MALIA
“So, you were rude to him for… helping you up and opening the door?”
I nodded.
Dee blinked a few times, her lips screwing up to one side as she tried to work through the information that I had just dumped on her.
“Yup,” I said.
The guilt had gotten to me. The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. It was against everything I had tried to do, everything I had worked for to have a better attitude about my situation. I wanted to be a shining example. Instead, I was looking like a worst-case scenario.
“And you were so racked with guilt you didn’t know what to do, so you came to your big sister to confess your sins?” She spoke slowly, her eyebrow arched.
“I mean, not exactly. But kind of, yeah.”
“Girl, sometimes I forget you were a literal child, like, three years ago.”
“Har, har,” I said. “I’m young, I get it. What should I do?”
“Apologize, duh,” she said quickly. “I mean, did you get his number? Recognize him from anywhere?”