Chapter 30
On the ride home, my mom was pretty quiet. She said the funeral was as nice as could be expected and that lots of people had gone over to Drew’s parents’ house after the service, which is where Cadence was now. I studied my mom carefully, trying to see if it was possible to see any changes in her demeanor that might indicate what was going on, but she seemed herself, only a little more tired than usual.
I sat pondering Lucy’s advice not to say anything to my parents. It seemed like every time I broached the topic of what was going on with Cadence, they changed the subject anyway, so I decided not to ask any of the questions burning in my head, though I’d resolved to call Grandma Janette when I got a chance. And hopefully I’d have another chance to talk to Cadence.
“Do you have any homework?” my mom asked as we passed through the garage into the house.
“No, I already did it,” I assured her.
“Okay, just don’t forget to lay out your clothes for school tomorrow.”
It was a little odd that my mom was concerned I’d forget that I had school the next day, but I figured she was just trying to keep things as normal as possible. “Where’s dad?” I asked, noticing his truck wasn’t in the drive or the garage.
“He decided to spend the rest of the day at work.” My dad is an engineer, and even though he’s close to retirement, I know that he would prefer to think about work most of the time rather than problems at home. Not that we had a lot of those, but I think if we’d ever had one before, this one took the cake.
“Okay,” I repeated. I kept my backpack on and headed up the stairs.
“Did you eat lunch at Lucy’s?” my mom called after me.
“Yes,” I replied, even though it wasn’t true. I didn’t feel like eating anything. If I got hungry later, I’d find something.
I heard my mom pad off toward the kitchen and supposed she would try to get back to normal herself, though it couldn’t be easy. It had to be unsettling to watch them lower a child younger than your oldest into the ground. I wondered if Drew’s casket had been open or closed. I wondered if Drew had actually been inside of it.
Once I reached my bedroom, I slipped my backpack off onto the ground and took a deep breath. After the conversation I’d had with my friends, it seemed odd to be sitting in my room all alone, like maybe this whole thing was just a figment of my imagination, and I was starting to lose it myself. What if Cadence was perfectly fine and I was the one who had a problem?
I decided to move my chair over by the window so I could hear when my sister got home. I knew it seemed like I was becoming just as paranoid as Jack, but I wanted to listen. I peeked through the blinds and noticed nothing unusual. Satisfied that we were not being spied on or infiltrated by vampires, I pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket and flipped through my contacts until I saw my grandma’s name and pressed it.
My grandma’s phone was so old, when I pictured her rushing to answer it, I imagined it was one of those big, black rotary phones you see in old movies. I knew it wasn’t quite that old, but that’s what it reminded me of. It did have push buttons, and it was red, but it was still very old. If my grandma owned a cell phone, I didn’t have the number, and I imagined it was a basic Jitterbug or something like that. She wasn’t one for technology. Sometimes I noticed that she would try to change the channel on the TV with her calculator.
The phone rang about eight times before she picked it up, and I assumed she must’ve been in the kitchen. That’s where she was most of the day. “Hello?” She had to ask who was there because she didn’t have caller ID.
“Hi, Grandma. It’s Cassidy.” I took a few deep breaths, wondering how I was going to ask her any of the questions burning in my head without sounding like I was digging for information.
“Well, hello there, sweetheart,” Grandma Janette said, her voice brightening. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.” I heard the sadness in my own voice and hoped that she could pick up on it, too. Not that I wanted her to know how all of this was affecting me, but because being sad about Drew was better than being curious about Cadence.
“Did you know Drew, too, honey?” My grandmother’s voice sounded just as sympathetic as my mother’s had all week long.
“Yes. She was on the Varsity cheerleading squad, and sometimes my squad practiced with hers. She was such a nice girl, Grandma.” I didn’t think there was any reason to let my grandma know that wasn’t necessarily true. No reason to speak ill of the dead—or the undead.
“I know, sweetie. Your sister said the same thing. Such a terrible tragedy. You didn’t go to the funeral though, did you?”
“No, Mom and Dad thought it would be better if I stayed home.”
“That’s probably for the better, honey. Funerals are not fun.”
“Right.” I was doing my best to try and bring up something connected to the true reason for my call, but so far, I hadn’t seen an opportunity. Until now. It was a stretch, but I was hopeful. “They did bring in a doctor to talk to me, though. I think he’s going to come back in a day or two.”
“Oh, well, that seems like a good idea. Is he a psychiatrist?”
“I’m not sure.” This was true. For all I knew, Dr. Elliott Sanderson was actually a vegetable doctor. “I think you might know him. His name is Elliott Sanderson.”
My grandma’s breath was sharp enough for me to distinguish even through the phone that my comment had caught her off-guard. I assumed she knew that I was talking about Dr. Sanderson when I first mentioned a doctor, but she must not have known that I knew she knows him. “Oh? Why would you think that?” she asked, her voice stretched thin with innocence.
“I don’t know. I just thought you might. He was here at the same time as Aaron. And you know him, right? Dad said you used to work together or something.”
“Aaron?” My grandmother repeated his name like she’d never heard those sounds strung together before. Finally, having likely weighed the option of not agreeing with my dad versus giving me some information, she said, “I know him. Are you ready for school to start tomorrow? It’s been a week or so hasn’t it?”
The fluidity with which my grandmother attempted to change the conversation was impressive. “I think I’m ready to get back to normal,” I replied. “Do you think that’s possible, Grandma?” My question sounded almost as innocent as her attitude when I’d inquired about her connection to the strange people in black. “Do you think we will ever be normal again?”
She could take that however she wanted, but my grandmother needed another moment to prepare an answer. “I hope so,” she said. “You’re far too young to have to be thinking about… all this.”
I wanted to ask what “all this” was but I heard a car out front. Peeking through the blinds, I saw my sister pull into the driveway and decided it was time to stop interrogating my poor grandmother. She’d likely already grown suspicious of me anyway. “I guess I should go,” I said. “Thanks, Grandma. I love you.” I was in a rush now. I wanted to see if I could beat my sister to the entryway.
“I love you, too, Cass,” she said. “Take care.”
