Chapter 73
She was proud of herself—this time she didn’t cry.
* * * *
Dana’s father picked her up from the bus station. As usual, they had little to say to each other, but he carried her bags to the bed of his pickup truck and didn’t comment on her return, two things for which she was thankful. After almost eight hours on a cramped bus, not only had Dana realized she got horrible motion sickness, but also that she had to put Bethany behind her once and for all. Since they met, her life hadn’t been her own. Everything she’d said and done for the past six years, she’d done for Bethany.
That ends now.
She moved into Bethany’s dorm room at her friend’s request. Moved to DC after graduation because Bethany asked. Went to New York—why? Because of Bethany, of course. Dana didn’t need her mother to tell her she was throwing her life away after someone who obviously didn’t care about her. Dana had finally realized it for herself.
But when she arrived home, her mother said it anyway; pointing out what you were doing wrong with your life was what mothers did best. Dana only half-listened to the conversation, refusing to get drawn into an argument, punctuating the talk when necessary with, “Yes, Mom,” and “I know, Mom,” and “You’re right, you’re right.”
“I never trusted that girl,” her mother said at one point. “I told you…”
Dana nodded, while inside she thought, Actually, no, you never mentioned it. Up until now, you loved her, too. You don’t even know why I’m mad at her and you’re taking my side. You’re supposed to do and I love you for it, but if anything changes—which it won’t, I just know it—but if it does, you’ll be telling me this same thing all over again, I told you, blah blah blah
Finally when she could stand it no longer, she asked, “Can I go up to my room and lay down for a bit? The ride was exhausting.”
From the living room, her dad called out, “Linda, leave the girl be. Jesus. She just walked in the damn door.”
“All I’m saying is—”
“Well, don’t.” Her father rattled the newspaper, a sure sign he was getting mad, and Dana flashed her mother a sympathetic smile. Coming home might have been a bad idea after all. “Lay off for two seconds, will you?”
Softly, so he wouldn’t overhear, Dana said, “We can talk more later if you want—”
“Just go.” Her mother waved her off with a dish towel. “If she calls here looking for you, I’m going to hang up.”
“She won’t call,” Dana assured her. “She doesn’t even know I left.”
* * * *
Well, technically, Bethany would figure it out sooner or later. When she came home to an empty apartment, it would probably dawn on her Dana was gone. Maybe not at first—Dana had pulled the door to her bedroom shut behind her when she left, so Bethany most likely tiptoed past it for a couple of days, afraid to disturb her, afraid of being heard and getting caught, hoping Dana wouldn’t jump out and try to start something.
Ifshe ever came home. Dana still wondered where her friend had spent the night before she left. Was Bethany seeing someone? Would Dana know if she was?
Hell, maybe Bethany had moved out first and Dana simply didn’t know it. Maybe Dana had been the last one to know…
No, all of Bethany’s things were still in her bedroom when Dana looked in there. The apartment was leased in her name, and all the utilities were, too. Dana’s meager wages had barely covered the cost of groceries; she could never have afforded to pay anything else on her own. Bethany had been providing a place for her to live for years.
Well, that ended now. If Bethany wanted a second income, she could put out an ad for a roommate. Dana was done with New York, and DC, and big cities in general. She was done with Bethany. Time to move on with her life.
Time to grow up.
Before when she’d lived at home, she hadn’t really been all that bothered about finding a job. She was fresh out of college then, worn out from the pressure of her senior year and ready for a little downtime. Sure, she’d sent out a few resumes, filled out some applications, but she never followed up on anything, hadn’t pursued the positions she wanted. She hadn’t even known what it was she would’ve liked to do then.