“What is it? Say it, Phyllis.” Her tone is severe.
Phyllis’s mouth remains a slit. “Now isn’t the time.”
“The time? The time for what? What are you—”
“The time to discuss that you need to quit defining yourself by that day.”
That’s a punch to the gut. Ella feels her blood turning hot. How dare she? Phyllis never had the fortitude to hear about that night; about Ella waking up to Katie’s lifeless body on hers; the terror of the figure leaning over her; nearly dying herself, surviving only because the blade missed her pulmonary artery by two millimeters. Yet she has the gall to tell her to get over it?
“Maybe it’s time for you,” Ella says, venom in her tone.
“For what? I face my demons, dear. And until you do, you’ll continue to be a mess.”
Ella feels tears welling.
Jesse returns before their visit can get any worse. She’s smiling until she sees Ella.
Ella stands. She’s leaving.
Phyllis shakes her head. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Eloise.” She turns to Jesse. “Sit down. Eat.”
The food’s on the table. Ella didn’t even see the kitchen staff deliver it.
Jesse stares at the cheeseburger with longing. Grade-A beef smothered in melted cheddar with a side of fresh-cut fries.
But, as if sensing Ella needs backup—needs someone on her side—Jesse says, “I’ve actually lost my appetite.”
Phyllis makes a sound of amusement from her throat. Like Ella and Jesse are kindred spirits. Two damaged souls.
And what’s worse: she’s right.
“Wait,” Phyllis says as Ella walks to the door, Jesse at her side.
Ella stops, twists around. Something in her needs Phyllis to apologize. Not just about today, but about the last fifteen years. About every single fucking night that Ella woke up in a cold sweat and wanted her mom there to rub her back and tell her everything would be okay.
She looks at Phyllis, waiting. Just this once, for fuck’s sake, say it. Say you’re sorry.
Finally, Phyllis speaks: “Charles can drive you.”
CHAPTER 27
ELLA
DECEMBER 5, 1999
Oddly enough, she likes the smell. Popcorn combined with plastic from the VHS cases displayed on rows and rows of shelves. She doesn’t even mind the unsightly Blockbuster uniforms, blue polos with gaudy yellow collars. She feels older, more mature, getting to hang out with seniors. And they seem to be warming to her. It’s about time.
At nine on Sunday night, it’s pretty quiet. Mostly customers rushing in, stuffing cases into the return slot to avoid late fees. That part of the job is unpleasant. Dealing with all the gripes about surcharges. It’s not like Ella invented late fees.
Candy smacks her gum and seems to be eyeing Ella. Sizing her up. She’s the queen bee of the store. She has mostly ignored Ella. Until now.
“You party?” Candy says.
“Pardon?”
“I said, ‘Do you party?’” She says it loudly, exaggerated, like Ella’s deaf.
“Leave her alone, Cans.” Mandy calls her “Cans” because of Candy’s large breasts, which the boys are obsessed with.
“Yeah, I party.” It’s weak, unconvincing. But there. She said it.
Candy continues smacking the gum. Her look is skeptical. “We’re gonna hang out after shift. You can come if you want.” She looks over at Katie. “You too.”
It’s the first time Candy and Mandy have invited Ella out after shift. Ella’s mother is already furious about her taking the job. Hanging with the “townies,” as she calls them, might send Phyllis off the deep end. That settles it: “Sure. I’ll come.”
Candy nods. “I’ll drive. So you can give Jeeves the night off,” she adds.
On Friday, Ella closed the store for the first time. Her father worried about her driving in Linden late at night, so he sent Charles to pick her up. It did not go unnoticed. The kids at school seem to know that Ella’s from money. Candy had already been making rich-girl cracks. Having a chauffeur pick Ella up didn’t help.
“I drove myself,” Ella says.
Their manager appears from the back office and marches over. “Candy, can I speak with you, please?” Stevie stabs a finger in the direction of the office, then heads back there.
“O-o-oh, you’re in trouble,” Mandy says, drawing out the words, like Candy’s being called to the principal’s office.
Stevie tries so hard, but it’s tough to take him seriously. He’s not that much older than they are and has a sweetness he can’t hide.