Fade to Us Read online

  I ran to the office. “Mrs. Martin. I’m taking my lunch break.”

  “Already?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “When will you be back?”

  I smiled with more confidence than I felt. “By noon.” Not. It would take me thirty minutes of driving time alone—more if I had to take Natalie home. An hour would be a stretch.

  If I was lucky, they wouldn’t notice.

  * * *

  I screeched into the arts center lot in record time, parked in the drop-off lane, and was out of the car seconds later. Jeff’s truck wasn’t there.

  I saw a garden to the right of the building with a small brick patio at its center. Crepe myrtles provided shade and color. Natalie was stomping back and forth on the lawn just beyond them. She muttered fractured phrases, her hands clenched at her sides.

  The wide-eyed camp manager sat on a concrete bench. Micah was standing nearer to my stepsister, arms crossed, his back to me.

  I detoured to his side. “How long has Natalie been like this?”

  “About thirty minutes.” He didn’t look my way. Just kept monitoring her movements.

  “Slow buildup or fast?”

  “Fast. Seemed to come from nowhere.”

  “Have you been able to get the reason out of her?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Fear pricked my skin, clawing for attention. I don’t want to do this.

  But I had to. She needed my confidence. She needed me.

  I took a deep breath to gather my courage and don a detached mask, then circled past Micah to stand in her path. She halted, head bowed, fists thumping violently against her thighs.

  “Natalie,” I said, low and controlled.

  No response. Just thump, thump, thump.

  “Natalie. Will you look at me?”

  She raised her gaze enough to stare at my chin. Although she remained silent, I had her attention.

  “I’m here to listen. What do you want to say?”

  She shook her head rapidly. Anxiety churned inside her, I knew, like a beast threatening to spew through her skin. I hated to see her hurting like this—

  Stop. Focus. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be over by Micah.” I backed out of her way.

  She continued her pacing, although it had lost some speed. Marginally. Probably. At least I thought so.

  The muttering resumed. She was reliving the moment. Or maybe debating within herself. Whichever it was, the dialogue was consistent. “Give me a break” and “How do you know?” drifted to us repeatedly in the humid heat of the morning.

  Micah leaned closer to me. “How long does it take for her to…?”

  “Chill?” I exhaled an optimistic breath. For Natalie, her family was her best drug. “Now that I’m here, it shouldn’t be much longer.”

  She was passing us for the dozenth time when she paused. Seconds passed as her fists opened and closed, then she executed a crisp ninety-degree turn and halted before our shoes bumped. “Ignoring jealous people doesn’t work.”

  Outrage spasmed through me at her words. She flinched, as if she’d been blasted by the strength of my emotion.

  Not helpful. I willed myself to let go of the anger. “What was the last thing she did before this happened?” I murmured to Micah.

  “They were in their small groups.”

  “And before that?”

  “The girls’ ensemble was rehearsing ‘Out of My Dreams.’”

  Uh-huh. “Is that when you have your solo, Natalie?”

  She gave a sharp nod and one last fist-thump against her thighs before her hands went still.

  I wrestled with my emotions, trying not to scare her. I’d known it was possible for a cast member to set her off, but I hadn’t expected it this soon, as if inside these walls, with the camp staff around, Natalie would be vaccinated against the petty crap. I glared at Micah, upset that he hadn’t protected her, surprised that I’d thought it was even likely. He answered with a puzzled frown.

  At some point, I’d have to find out exactly what had been said, but not now. I had to get her mind off the trigger, whatever it had been. “If you want, you can join me, Natalie.” I walked to a shady spot near the low brick wall edging the patio and sat gingerly on the lawn.

  She followed me and executed a figure-eight pattern of rapid steps, like a dog chasing its tail. It made me dizzy to watch her, but I wouldn’t intervene.

  The speed slowed to a crawl until finally she stopped. I didn’t meet her eyes and simply remained where I was, allowing an eerie calm to steal over me. She plopped cross-legged onto the lawn before me, her knuckles covered in scratches.

  I counted down from one hundred and scooted forward until our knees almost touched. “Better?”

  “I’m sitting here. I’d say that’s better than jabbering.”

  “Got it.” She might get mad about the next question, but it had to be asked. “Do you need a pill?”

  She shook her head, although her fists unfolded on her knees. “It’s good that you’re here.”

  “You knew one of us would come.”

  “Yes. Is it okay if we don’t speak?”

  “Sure.” I sent an I got this look to Micah. He nodded his understanding, pointed at his watch, and jogged to the theater. The camp manager ran after him.

  We’d been sitting quietly for several minutes when Jeff’s truck rumbled into the lot and halted behind the Honda in the drop-off lane. His boots thudded in our direction.

  He glanced at me before looking at Natalie. “How are things?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Natalie?” he prompted.

  She leapt up and slammed into his torso, her hands twisting in his shirt. His arms swooped around her, sheltering his little girl in a protective bubble. Her shoulders wobbled, as if her father’s touch had left them loose and untethered.

  “Would you like me to take you home?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  This was the closest thing to a normal reaction that he would ever see from her. It was heartbreaking that she embraced him only when she was at her worst.

  “We’ll leave now.”

  “Rehearsal isn’t over.” She trembled.

  His face softened into an expression so loving it made tears well in my eyes. Jeff still looked like a battle-ready soldier—big, muscled, and tough, but he’d always been tender with his daughter.

  Micah appeared out of nowhere. “Natalie, your part’s done for today. Mom will work with the principals this afternoon. Everybody else will be rehearsing the choruses or playing games in their small groups. You can skip that if you want.”

  “Let’s go, Dad.”

  My stepfather watched her take off at a run, stress evident in the rigid posture of his body. He shot an accusatory glance at me before following.

  That look made me die a little inside. Not that he needed to make me feel bad. I was already drenched in guilt.

  As I struggled to rise, a hand cupped my elbow. Once I was on my feet, I gave Micah a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

  His eyes met mine briefly before he turned and called to my stepfather. “Mr. Kane, can Brooke sign out Natalie?”

  “Yes,” Jeff tossed over his shoulder and hurried to join Natalie at the truck.

  I waited until they’d pulled away to look at Micah. “Where do I sign her out?”

  “Mom and I would like to talk to you first.”

  Dread clogged my throat. “Sure.”

  I walked beside him on unsteady legs, each new step harder than the last. Now that the storm had passed, reaction was beginning to set in. He held the door for me, and I entered the wonderful cool of the theater lobby. Within seconds, though, the shakes had taken over.

  “Just a sec,” I choked out as I wobbled over to a bench. Today’s meltdown was only the sixth I’d witnessed, and the first I’d handled completely on my own. I braced my arms against my knees and fought the shudders that were threatening to take over my body.

  “Hey, Brook
e.” Micah crouched before me. “You okay?”

  “I will be.” Please let me hold it together in front of this guy.

  “You were great out there with her.”

  I tried to smile, but my mouth refused to cooperate.

  “Do you want to be alone?”

  “No.” Actually, I liked having him here. He didn’t seem to be judging me. Just waited patiently. A solid presence whose composure I could absorb. “I’ll be fine, if you’ll give me a moment.”

  I concentrated on bringing myself under control. Calming my breathing. Willing the tremors to end. It took a couple of minutes before I reached the point where I could trust my legs again. “I’m ready.”

  He rose and offered me his hand. “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” I took his hand and let him pull me to my feet.

  “Hey, if it helps, once Natalie knew you were on the way, her … anxiety leveled off.”

  “Thanks.” It did help.

  He matched his stride to mine, held the auditorium door for me, and led the way down the aisle to where Lisa sat, chewing on a pen. The stage was empty.

  “Mom, this is Brooke. Natalie’s stepsister.”

  With a sigh, Lisa stood and met my gaze full-on. “How is she?”

  “My stepdad is taking her home. She was almost back to normal before they left.”

  “Elena says you had her settled down in under fifteen minutes.”

  The dread spread to my stomach. Where was this going? “I’ve done this before.”

  “We enjoy having your stepsister in the show, but today was a problem.” She looked at Micah.

  “Natalie usually does well with her counselor,” he said, “but when the problem hit, she only responded to me. That was fine for once. Since we were near lunchtime, it was no trouble to adjust a few things in the schedule. But we might not be as lucky next time.”

  Lisa gestured dismissively with her hand. “Micah is being too nice. He was out of commission until you got here. We can’t allow him to be monopolized.”

  I had to reassure them. “Natalie would’ve been okay by herself. She likes solitude.”

  Micah was shaking his head. “Not safe.”

  Lisa spoke over him. “The consequences of being wrong about that are too serious to rely on. We have to create better alternatives. How often does Natalie have these meltdowns?”

  “It’s unpredictable. There has to be a trigger.”

  “Do you know what triggered this one?”

  “Not for sure.” How much could I say without breaking Natalie’s confidence? “Another kid may have said something that hurt her feelings.”

  Micah crossed his arms. “Do you know who?”

  I shook my head.

  “If another cast member caused this, I can fix that.” Micah’s lips thinned into a grim line. “Is it always a person saying the wrong thing?”

  “No.” I wished that I didn’t have to ask the next question. “What do you plan to do?”

  Lisa glanced at her watch. “I’d rather not be the one to make that decision. We’ll have to talk with Natalie’s father. This afternoon, if possible.” She strode away and disappeared through a door at the side of the stage.

  I looked at Micah. “Should I have Jeff call you to schedule something?”

  “Sure.”

  Okay, I had to know. “You won’t make her quit, will you?”

  “We don’t want to, and I don’t mind doing what I can for her, but…”

  “You can’t be monopolized.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  Sorry about what? That Natalie had a meltdown? That he wouldn’t be allowed to stay with her again? Or was his meaning more ominous?

  9

  Intensely Personal

  Mom, Jeff, and Natalie returned from the meeting with Lisa. No one was smiling.

  Whatever they’d discussed, we had to make this okay. Natalie couldn’t take any more trauma.

  I sat silently at the table, hoping to figure out what had happened without asking questions. Natalie pressed against the window and stared into the yard. Jeff watched her, agitation evident in his jerky movements. Only Mom seemed relaxed as she set out cartons of Chinese food.

  “We’re ready to eat, Natalie.”

  “Not hungry.”

  “Why don’t you come over and sit with us anyway? The camp staff needs a plan for the meltdowns in the morning, and I have to leave for a game soon.”

  Jeff shot Mom a hard look. Her chin lifted. She wasn’t backing down.

  Natalie crossed to the table. “I’m here now. What?”

  Mom continued in a matter-of-fact tone, “Since the rehearsals can’t pause and the staff can’t suspend what they’re doing, your family needs to be available to show up.”

  “You mean Dad?” Natalie slid onto her chair.

  “And me and Brooke.” Mom’s mouth tightened with hurt. When she spoke again, her voice had grown husky. “It might help you to recover if you knew we could be there quickly.”

  Natalie scrunched her face as she served herself rice and vegetables. “I agree. That could work.”

  “Maybe it would make you less likely to have one.”

  “No, it wouldn’t do that.” Natalie deftly scooped food with her chopsticks and ate. At least she wasn’t making idle promises.

  “How many minutes is ‘quickly’?” I asked.

  “Ten,” my stepsister barked out. She looked up to see our reaction.

  Jeff glared at Mom again. “The construction site is thirty miles away. I can’t get here any sooner than forty-five minutes.”

  “We don’t have to worry about the mornings,” Mom said. “I can cover most of them.”

  “What about after lunch?”

  There was silence. We were all busy in the afternoons.

  “Dad?” Natalie sounded panicky.

  “I’ll stay home tomorrow. I have some computer work to finish.” He rubbed his head. “I could get the week of July fourth off, but I don’t know if I can manage more than that. It’s a bad time for me.”

  Natalie cast her eyes down and sucked her lips into her mouth until they disappeared.

  I touched my mother’s arm. “You’re usually at home until five.”

  Mom shook her head. “If my games are more than a hundred miles away, I leave midafternoon. I also have several overnight games coming up.”

  Natalie trembled. She knew it wasn’t enough. Not for the show. Not for her. “Lisa will make me drop out.”

  “No, she won’t,” Jeff said. “Your director seems like a nice person. She won’t make you quit.”

  “I can’t disrupt anybody, I can’t have Micah or Norah take care of me, and I can’t be alone. So I’ll have to stay where I’m visible, and I can’t stand thinking the other campers might see me like that.”

  “Lisa says that theater kids think ‘weird’ is normal. They won’t care.”

  “I will.”

  “Her son said you can use the staff lounge if you need solitude, and the camp manager would be across the hall. That would give you privacy.”

  “Elena got really distressed during my meltdown. That would make me worse. I do best when I’m around soothing people.” Natalie stabbed a piece of chicken. “Maybe an empty room can work until one of you gets there.”

  I’d been sitting there like a lump, more of a spectator than a participant. It was my turn to try. “I’ll talk to my boss. He might let me arrange my schedule so I can leave if there’s an emergency.”

  “Raymond Wilson?” Jeff’s lip curled. “He’s not known for his flexibility.”

  I wouldn’t let Jeff’s skepticism bother me. “I’ll ask. In the meantime, we have tomorrow handled, and we can decide the rest this weekend.”

  Natalie lurched away from the table. Seconds later, she exploded into the backyard, where she started an immediate conversation with herself in loud, forceful bursts.

  Mom and Jeff stared at their plates. They weren’t looking at me, but I knew what they were
thinking.

  The whole mess was my fault. If I hadn’t told Natalie about Oklahoma! If I’d checked with Mom and Jeff first. If I’d simply thought it through instead of rushing in to “save” Natalie’s summer. She would’ve been better off not knowing about the show, because now it was on the verge of being ruined.

  * * *

  I took a long shower, as hot as I could stand, and hoped it would rinse away how badly this day had gone. It didn’t succeed.

  After wrapping my hair in a towel and pulling on a robe, I returned to my room and stopped abruptly. Natalie was sitting cross-legged on the top of my bed, flipping through my scrapbook.

  “Excuse me, what are you doing?” I ran over to yank it from her hands, but she held it out of my reach.

  “Who is this man, and why do you have a drawing of him?”

  I knew exactly who she meant, and I was not answering. “That’s private. You don’t have any right to look through my scrapbook.”

  She handed it to me. “Then you shouldn’t have left it lying around.”

  “You had to walk in here to find it.” Under my quilt. Out of view.

  “The door was open.”

  “That doesn’t matter.” I crossed to my nightstand and shoved the scrapbook into the bottom drawer. Then I seethed at the wall. I couldn’t face her, not when I was this furious. I’d never told anyone about my scrapbook. Not my mom. Not Kaylynn. Natalie had not only come in here and found it, she’d pawed through my most private thoughts. It was a … violation. “You can’t walk into someone’s bedroom and touch their things without permission.”

  “That’s not the rule at my house. Closed doors denote stay out. Open doors are fair game.”

  I’d bet Mei kept all of the doors closed all of the time. “There are different rules here, and going into private places is definitely on the list.”

  “What counts as private in your house?”

  If it were anyone but Natalie, I’d think she was being a jerk, but she didn’t make up stuff like that. She really wasn’t sure. Clutching my fists to my gut, I turned around. “All computers are private. All bedrooms are private, and Mom’s home office and Jeff’s workshop. Stay out unless you’re invited in.”

  Her forehead creased, as if she was trying to concentrate. “Do phones count?”