Me, Myself, and I

names, bills, and letters

The route to Ben's house was engraved in my memory, but I'm pretty sure it shouldn't have taken me only five minutes to get there. Good thing the cops were all patrolling on the other side of town. A ticket would've been the cherry on top of a fabulous year. I'd tell them to tow the car while they were at it, leave me inside to rot.

I pulled into the middle of the driveway, threw my door open, and skidded across the ice to his front door. I wouldn't be long. I'd fill my pocket. I would leave. A to B to C. Branches to my tree with no top.

Kyle had other ideas.

His car was on the street this time. I'd given explicit instructions. Meet me here. Bring the file. Give me the file. I leave. But when I grabbed the handle, it jammed. I knocked. Louder. Harder. Maybe Ben would answer, wasn't gone with his parents like Kyle had said. He'd wake me out of this determined trance. Remind me how big the world is.

Instead, the door clicked. Kyle creaked the door open, put his hands in his back pockets, and stared ahead.

"You're a little early, aren't you?"

I held out my hand. "I took my finals. Give me what I came for."

He wore an oversized coat that jiggled when he moved. He wiped his face and looked towards the street. "I really don't think you want me to do that."

"Please, Kyle."

"Why the sudden interest? I thought you'd forgotten about the thing, honestly. Couldn't believe you agreed to back off."

I didn't relent my hand. "That file."

Kyle poked his head out the door, looked both ways like a kid crossing the street. Then waved me inside. The letter weighed down my pocket. I followed him to the kitchen table, laid my envelope on the wood.

"What's that?" he muttered.

"What's it look like?" I said.

He snatched it. I didn't stop him. Watched him examine the shred of paper. Closer face to the printed document.

He shook his head. "'Thanks'? That's all she wrote?" He saw my face, at last taking out that stolen document. He laid it next to the envelope with precise accuracy. "Don't know what I think I'm protecting you from. I don't even care. None of my business."

I took the sheet with shaking fingers. Looked like some sort of contract. A large loop at the end of one of the bottom signatures. I remembered trying to copy that loop when I learned cursive.

"There's not a lot of information here. All I know is that those are some big numbers and that isn't a divorce settlement."

My fist folded on the edge of the paper. I hoped it would pierce my hand. That large ending loop to her name was unmistakable.

"Big numbers..." I whispered. He was right. Lot of digits in the middle of those dotted lines. Numbers. Money. "What's he paying her for?"

He frowned. First time I ever saw him look at me with any sort of pity. "I was right, wasn't I? Margaret is..."

Hearing the name out of his mouth. He might as well as stabbed me. I undid the creases my fist had caused, tried to erase the damage. Stared at the papers as if some carrier pigeon had reigned them down from heaven for my eyes to see. My hands to hold.

My smile hurt. But I smiled. Wiped my eyes and gently placed those numbers into the same envelope. Binded like a new book. Imagined the smell of fresh linen.

Kyle tapped my shoulder. "Julia?"

"Sorry." I wiped my head again. Straightened my bangs out. "Yes. Maggie White. That's Mom."

Mom.

Disappeared without a trace. As gone as Max was, might as well be. That's what he'd told me. Never heard from again. Those words. The simple ones. Abandoned. Vanished. Gone.

But Dad was sending her money. A lot of it. And I was going to find out why.