“I’m gonna be a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader,” she tells me.
Sadly, she might not be.
“When I’m eighteen, I’m goin’ to the tryouts.”
“I tried out for American Idol when I was a few years older than you,” I tell her.
“Oh my gosh, did you make it?”
“No.” I don’t go into the brutal Wittany details, but I do tell her I still write lyrics.
“It’s too bad you won’t get to hear your songs on the radio.” Valentina thinks for a moment and says, “But when you go to heaven, you’ll get to meet people you never met before, like great-grandparents and Lindsay Lohan and… that boy who played Carlos on Descendants.”
“Lindsay Lohan died?”
“Didn’t she?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh well, you’ll get to find out stuff like if alien abductions are real.”
“Tommy, Valentina, and Marfa!” the golfer shouts out. “You got family visitin’ your rooms.”
I’m okay with leaving the lounge this time. My energy feels like it’s draining faster than before, and I want to see my momma and daddy for as long as I got left.
6
Rise and shine, Bestie.”
Not again. Before I can even leave my body, I know Detroit’s back.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
I stand in front of her, looking up at her face, glowing and beautiful. I’m not fooled this time, and I know why I’ve been thinking of Dingleberry lately. She and Detroit are opposite sides of the same mean-girl coin.
“Go away.” I knew better than to trust her, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Like holding the end of Dingleberry’s rope while she and her friends laughed and looked right through me.
“We’re friends.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You don’t care if I live a hard, empty life. You don’t care if Momma has to break her back takin’ care of me all her life. All you care about is gettin’ what you want. That’s not bein’ a friend.”
She turns up her smile. “Let’s start over.”
“No.” I move past her and out into the hall. Last night was very emotional. After my parents got back from dinner, they got a diagnosis that kicked them in the gut. Watching them kicked me in the gut, too.
“We got off to a bad start. You didn’t understand my proposal. That’s my fault.”
“I understood it.”
“I just want what’s best for you.”
“Ha! Even if I believed your stupid, harebrained ‘proposal’ for one second, which I don’t…” I stop and look up at her. “My parents got the news that even if by some miracle I don’t die, I’ll live in a persistent vegetative state for the rest of my life. I won’t recognize them or even know they’re in the room.” I cover my face with my hand. “My daddy’s a strong man, but his knees buckled and he cried like a baby. And Momma…” I shake my head. I know my real heart is beating in my body down the hall, but I feel the pain of seeing my parents deep in my soul. After I’m gone, I’m going to figure some way to come back and give them comfort. To watch out for them. To be their guardian angel until they join me in heaven.
“I’m certain things would carry on like they are now. Your spirit would escape your body again, and you’d make new friends at a new facility. My grandfather Chatsworth lived his final years at an excellent care facility in West Palm. He had a nice view of the lagoon from his window. You’d love it there.” She shakes her head and gives a little laugh. “But West Palm isn’t exactly Palm Beach, now is it?”
I look at her through the cracks in my fingers. “My parents live in Marfa,” I say slowly, because she’s clearly one taco short on three-fer night. “So no. Movin’ to some special facility across the country isn’t what’s best for me or my folks.”
She folds her arms across her chest and stares into my eyes, hard, like she can intimidate me. “They’ll still have you.”