The Thrashers(11)

She’d texted him about groceries yesterday afternoon, and he’d agreed to pick them up. Jodi opened the fridge. The only new items were the beers.

Jodi scrubbed her face, slipped into the last of her clean clothes, and walked to the bus stop. Two stops later, she was shopping at the nearest store, her arm sagging under the weight of a grocery carrier filled with a gallon of milk, two boxes of cereal, and ten-for-$10 frozen dinners. She heard her name by the checkout.

“Jodi.”

Maureen Mills was standing behind a shopping cart, a genuine smile on her tired face and fingertips playing with her crucifix necklace. Jodi’s lungs seized. She felt like she was underwater.

“Mrs. Mills. Hi.”

Jodi saw a woman throwing herself over a body bag, screaming.

“It’s good to see you.” Mrs. Mills pushed her cart to the side, filled with vegetables, bread, and meat. Jodi tried to shift her carrier behind her. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

Finding her voice, Jodi finally said, “I got your note in the mail. I’m really sorry that I haven’t come by.”

Mrs. Mills gave her a watery grin. “I understand. Everyone has different grief.”

Grief. Right. She was grieving Emily—that’s why she couldn’t bring herself to face her parents.

“I, um … I’m looking forward to the memorial in August. Not—not looking forward to it, but—”

“I get it,” Mrs. Mills said kindly. “We had such a small service for the funeral, didn’t really invite anyone outside the family. I’m glad the school organized a way to let her friends say goodbye.”

Jodi nodded, wondering which friends Mrs. Mills meant. Did she know the police had questioned the only people who might fall into that category?

It was quiet for a moment that felt like an eternity. Jodi itched for something else to say in response, before finally settling on something. “Emily was a really nice person.”

Mrs. Mills’s left eye twitched at her daughter’s name, and her mouth wobbled into a grateful smile.

When she said nothing in return, Jodi continued. “How’s Hannah?”

“She’s—she’s still processing,” Maureen said. “We sent her to a computer science camp this summer to get her mind off everything, but she starts at New Helvetia this year.”

Jodi’s mouth opened and closed. “Great.”

“Listen, Jodi.” Mrs. Mills stepped closer and gripped her necklace in white fingers. “I know how much you meant to Emily. And I want to thank you for being there for her in April…”

“In April?”

“When she first tried. And you stopped her.”

Swallowing hard, Jodi said, “Tried what?”

Mrs. Mills’s lips quivered. “We found it in her journal. When you stopped her from killing herself.”

Jodi felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped down her shirt. “In April?” Her voice was weak.

“She wrote about it. So we know that she had been struggling for some time.” Maureen wiped her eyes. “Robert and I are just so glad you talked her out of it then, so we all had a little more time with her.”

Jodi felt like she’d misheard, like the entire universe had skipped forward and left her behind. “I’m so sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I had no idea Emily tried to kill herself in April.”

Maureen tilted her head, surprised. “She wrote it in her journal.”

“Can I see it?” Jodi’s heart was pounding.

“We don’t have it.” Maureen looked apologetic. “It’s … well, it’s with Detective Harding.”

Jodi’s eyes widened at the detective’s name. Harding’s questions flared to life in her memory. But she never talked to you about suicide?

“Mrs. Mills, I promise you. If Emily had mentioned it to me, I would have told an adult.” She rubbed her palm, searching her memories. “Maybe I didn’t understand what she was saying at the time—”

“It’s alright, Jodi,” she said with a smile. “We’re just so glad that—that you helped Emily when she needed it.”

Acid rose in her stomach. It felt like a lie when Jodi smiled, agreeing.

“Well, I’ll let you continue with your shopping.” Mrs. Mills reached for her cart. “And if you ever need anything, please call. Emily told us that your dad is”—her eyes flicked to the frozen dinners—“out of town a lot.”

Her cheeks heated. “Thanks. It was great to see you. I’ll try to stop by soon. And um, I’ll try to bring Zack and the others.”

All the warmth drained from Maureen’s face. “That’s not necessary. Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach, like someone had punched her in the gut. “I have no interest in seeing that boy ever again.”

She blinked at Maureen. There was a sloshing in Jodi’s ears. She felt herself sinking.

Maureen squeezed her shoulder with a tight smile. “Good to see you.” Then she was pushing her cart down toward the whole grain crackers and out of sight.

Jodi struggled to catch her breath as she ran to the checkout, feeling like water was filling her lungs and closing her throat. She paid for her groceries and walked to the bus stop in a fog.