The Spring Girls

“Meg. Stop moving,” Shia told me.

I huffed and would have told him off if Mrs. King hadn’t been swirling in behind him. She looked concerned but a touch bored. It was strange; I didn’t want to be the center of attention in this crowd the way I usually did.

“It’s fine. I just need to get to the car,” I told the gathering crowd.

“I’ll take her home. It’s fine,” Laurie said, pulling his phone from his pockets. He grumbled a few words, hung up the phone, and shoved it back into his jeans.

I liked the way he watched Jo everywhere she went. She disappeared and came back with a big brown stain on the stomach of the dress she was wearing. She was truly a mess. Mrs. King didn’t even look at Jo. It was like she wasn’t even there.

“It’s so early, Laurie. You’re sure it’s okay?” I asked.

Jo looked at him.

Laurie shook his head. “I always go early. I do, really. Let’s get you to the car, it’ll be pulling up any second. I’ll help Jo get you home.”

Laurie lifted me up in his arms before I could protest, and I watched Shia’s eyes burn into his back until we disappeared into the house.

16

beth

Laurie came barreling through the house, Meg stuck to one of his sides. His T-shirt was bunched into her fist as she hobbled. Jo was holding her up from the other side, and I checked for blood. I didn’t know why, but I guess living in an Army town will give you different instincts from your average person.

I didn’t see any blood and Meg wasn’t crying or screaming, so I rushed over to help. Meg’s face was gray and she was wearing a beautiful maroon dress that now had green grass tracks down the side of it. I dropped to my knees and gently lifted the bottom of her dress up to check her ankle before I moved it.

“It’s broken, Beth. Isn’t it?” Meg cried.

Laurie stood awkwardly over Meg with his hands stuffed in his pockets, bending at his knees.

“No, Meg. It’s just sprained. Let me get some ice. Don’t move,” I told her, and climbed to my feet.

When I got to the doorway of the kitchen, I called back to Jo, “Don’t let her move!”

Meredith walked into the kitchen, her hair in pins and her dress dragging on the floor. “What’s going on?”

I pulled open the cabinet drawer closest to her and grabbed the plastic bags. “Meg sprained her ankle at the Kings’. Looks pretty bad.”

My mom pulled the freezer door open and helped me fill a bag. “Is that the Laurence boy?”

I nodded. “He seems nice.”

She closed the freezer door and leaned against the counter. “I think so, too.”

Meredith followed me back into the living room and thanked Laurie for helping Meg. Jo said the same to him and disappeared upstairs. She never came back. Laurie kept looking up at the staircase over and over for the next hour before he finally gave up and left. I didn’t think Jo knew how to handle boys, especially tall ones with long hair like Laurie. It probably never occurred to her to even say goodbye to him.

That was Jo; she was always in her own world. It was one of her best qualities, but she had to learn when to check back in.

The next morning, I woke up before everyone else and started the coffeepot, fed the fish, and watered the plants. It was only eight, but I figured I should make breakfast. I didn’t know if we had everything I would need, so I searched the cupboards and the pantry for ingredients.

Eggs—check.

Milk—check

Toast . . . I moved a bag of tortillas and found a loaf of wheat bread behind it. I thought a pack of bacon was somewhere in the freezer so I investigated. Underneath a bag of frozen chicken breasts, I found a pound of bacon. I turned the hot water on and let it run over the meat to thaw it. I missed my dad and how he always woke up early with me and helped make breakfast. We would talk about music while we folded laundry, and it felt so deserved, that time with my dad. Looking back, I realize I thought those hours would never end. They seemed so infinite during the year he was here, even though they shouldn’t have. I should have been used to him going; we all should have eventually gotten used to it. But it was the opposite.

As I waited for the oven to heat up, I flipped the bacon over. My dad used to tell me about the concerts he and my mom would go to. They were Bob Dylan fans in the nineties, and I remember one year I heard them stumble into the old house in Texas, and my mom was laughing so hard that I thought she was crying. I hid by the doorway and watched my dad lift her off her feet after he chased her around the kitchen. I remember how tightly he hugged her to his chest when he finally caught her. The parents in my memory are so different from the ones I know now, but that’s life. I was lucky to even have both of my parents under one roof.

Amy strolled into the kitchen when the bacon had begun to smell up the whole house.

“Yum.” She took a seat at the table. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and didn’t say another word. Mentally, I kept coming back to the fact that Amy’s pajamas were too small; the pant legs stopped at least two inches above her ankles.

After a while, Meg hopped into the room and poured herself a cup of steaming coffee as I pulled the pan of bacon out of the oven. She hopped over to the table on one foot and sat down.

“I think I spilled some,” she whined when her butt hit the chair.

I told her I would wipe it up, and she smiled at me and told me thanks, that her ankle was killing her.

Jo and Meredith were the last to join us, and by the time everyone was sitting down, Meg’s face was turned into a grimace and Amy’s finger was still scrolling.

“Man, isn’t it weird how now we are supposed to just go on with our lives after the holidays? Everything will go back to normal when you guys all go back to school,” Meg said through the eggs in her mouth.

“I wish it was Christmas and New Year’s all the time. Everyone would be even more stressed and have even less money,” Jo sniped.

“Jo. Stop it,” Meredith said, but smiled when she turned away.

We all ate breakfast, and Amy talked about some food trading thing she was doing at school when they returned from break. I offered her whatever I could, and she ble

w me a lip-gloss kiss from where she sat. Meredith said she had sent Dad an email last night and hoped he would be able to Skype today. I felt like the calls were coming less and less lately, and I had read the emails between him and my mom about his upcoming mission. I knew that his platoon was being sent on a mission because he said that he would be gone for over a week.

I liked it much more when he stayed on the FOB. I wasn’t like Jo, who read every hashtag, or like Amy, who was blissfully unaware of most current events. I was in my own lane right between, and when you added taking care of my mom and sisters on top of that, I would say I had a toll road or two on the three of them. I was worried sick over Dad, and I hoped that he would call Mom soon.

“Meg, I need a ride to work tomorrow. I can’t take any more days off this month. My manager will kill me,” said Jo.

She was picking at her plate. Her veggie omelet had to be cold by now. I made it before I made the French toast. Jo was the only one in the house who didn’t fight over my French toast, except when Dad was home. My dad’s mom taught me how to make it, using wheat bread and a little extra nutmeg and a dash of sass—I heard the last part in her voice. She had a Midwestern accent, even though she said there was no such thing. There was that voice again.

Jo and my dad were the only people who could be trusted around a plate of warm chocolate-chip cookies. Yet the two of them would eat an entire bag of chips in one sitting. Jo and her Bugles were best friends forever. The omelet I made sure as hell wasn’t. Something seemed to be wrong with her.

“I can barely walk, Jo. How can I drive you anywhere?” Meg pointed to her propped ankle.

It was definitely much less swollen than last night.

“I can’t miss work again, and the bus takes so long to get anywhere.”

Meredith left the room, and I was going to follow her soon. Jo and Meg needed to figure this out on their own, and my mom seemed to be a little spaced out, anyway. She was probably exhausted with worry.

“Meredith!” Jo said in a calm voice. “Are you busy Tuesday? I can get a ride there but not home.”