Instead of giving me the usual spiel of condolence, Law asked, “Why can’t you?” It took me by surprise. I was used to having to fend off half-sincere sorries and hugs. Law had asked a question I genuinely wasn’t ready for.
“I already answered your stupid question,” I huffed. “Answer mine.”
Law shrugged back into the seat. “I drove to a few known dandelion fields.”
“How many is a few?” Leaning forward so that I was practically in his seat, I pressed my question.
“I answered your stupid question, you answer mine.” Law grinned at me as he repeated my insolent statement.
“Fine,” I huffed, sitting back into my own seat. “I can’t go to Tony because I’m afraid of what will happen. I’m afraid the paparazzi will hound him…” I trailed off, staring at a man with a Patriot’s hat. “I’m afraid he won’t want to talk to me any more.” So many “friends” had dropped me like dead weight during the scandal. I’d already lost two parents. I couldn’t bear losing Tony as well.
Minutes passed where neither of us said a word. Law slipped farther into his seat, head relaxed on his arm. I watched his eyes close and his jaw relax. It felt like watching a bear sleep. All that raw, condensed power slumbering felt unnatural. With my hand still entwined in his, I wondered if that meant a part of me was sleeping with the animal.
Law affected the deep rumblings of sleep, his chest rising and falling like the tide. I turned my attention to the windows so I could watch the airplanes land and liftoff. As I watched another plane leave, its lights disappearing in the dark sky, Law spoke, his voice startling me from my quiet vigil.
“I went to about a hundred different fields.”
“Will you tell me more about your sister?” I whispered.
I wasn’t sure if Law had gone to sleep. It was impossible to tell with him. His head rested on his hand and his eyes were closed, but with Law that didn’t mean shit. He could easily be awake and listening. It had taken a lot of courage to ask the question and I wasn’t sure if I could ask it again. I almost wished he was asleep.
As minutes passed with no response, I concluded that Law was indeed asleep. It had been twenty minutes since Law had dropped the dandelion bomb on me and still we had about twenty minutes before boarding. He’d dozed off, or at least it looked like he had, and I’d been left stupefied.
Over a hundred different fields? That was…unbelievable. Then again, Law was unbelievable. In the twenty minutes since he’d dropped the bomb, I’d stewed. I’d realized I knew so very little about Law. I felt like I knew him; on a carnal level, on a visceral level, on the kind of level where atoms existed, I knew Law. Yet, on the level where sisters disappeared, I didn’t know him at all.
“Her name was Jane—Janey.” I snapped my attention to Law. His eyes were still closed and his head still rested on his arm, but he had responded to me. I watched him, waiting for him to say more. Maybe all he would tell me was that she was “Janey”.
“She didn’t look much like me, actually we were very different.” Law sat up, slowly straightening his back and opening his eyes. “Janey had light skin and freckles. Her hair was red I think…” Law trailed off and I looked over to see what had stopped him. His gaze was pinned to the wall, but his mind was far off.
I thought about what he’d said. His profile was all hard edges and lines, but his skin was smooth without any imperfections; not even a mole marred the olive tone. Law was tan, his skin intense like desert sand. He had light brown hair that I loved to mess up with my hands. I still wasn’t sure what his heritage was, but that seemed like such a small secret in comparison to the others I’d unearthed.
“I wish I remembered more about her,” Law continued. “After the search parties stopped and the police closed her case, my parents threw away all her pictures. They gave away all of her clothes and furniture—anything that might remind them of her.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to continue.”
“No,” Law said. “No, it’s good. I haven’t talked about her in years. I’ve thought about her. Almost every day I’ve thought about her. Throwing away her stuff and burning her pictures didn’t dissolve her presence; if anything, it amplified it. We could never talk about her. We never mourned her. We never gave her a funeral. We simultaneously forgot about her and waited for her to return.”
Emotion clogged my throat. Not sure what to do to ease his pain, I wrapped myself around him. I squeezed tight, wishing I could suffocate all the bad that had been done to him. Law tensed up at first but then relaxed. He started stroking my hair.
“I haven’t talked to my parents since the day I left home. For them, when Janey died, the world stopped turning. I’m sorry I can’t offer you a big, warm family. All I have are pieces of one.”
I lifted off him and crossed my legs. “Both my parents are dead, my dog was murdered, and I stalk my stepdad because I’m too afraid of what he thinks of me. One piece of your life is worth more than my entire being. I’d be happy to have a piece of yours.”
Law reached out and stroked my cheek. “The biggest tragedy in your life isn’t your parents’ death. It isn’t Morris. It isn’t Raskol. It’s that you continually devalue yourself. The biggest tragedy of your life will be you not realizing how amazing you truly are.”
Tears brimmed the surface of my lids. I hadn’t cried for Morris. I’d kept my tears inside when he’d ruined my reputation. I hadn’t cried for Effie. When she’d left me alone, it had hurt worse than a punch to the gut, but I hadn’t cried. Despite my desolation, I hadn’t cried for Raskolnikov eit
her. Yet there, in the freaking Boston airport, I was about to cry.
Law didn’t say another word. He opened his arm for me and I gladly took the comfort. I nestled myself against his chest and let his scent sooth me. Tears fell silently but his shirt soaked them up. It wasn’t tears of sadness that fell, but tears of undoing. The thing I’d feared for months had finally happened: I’d come undone. It hadn’t happened in a blaze of glory, with Morris in pieces at my feet and Salt Lake City in rubble, though. It had happened pressed against Law, a man who promised to do me back up.
Law gave me the window seat again. When we lifted off, the city below looked like sparkling glitter. I was mesmerized by it. Boston was so beautiful from up in the plane. Twinkling like stardust, you could almost forget all the terrible things that happened there. Up in the sky, a city wasn’t made up of murder per capita, but glimmering lights.
I touched the window, its pane cold against my fingers. It was nighttime now and I couldn’t see anything. The sky was painted black. I turned my attention back to the sleeping cabin. Law had sprung for first class tickets again. Before the trip, I’d never flown first class. We had big chairs the size of twin beds and the attendants brought us anything we wanted. Flying like that, I was almost able to forget the circumstances that had led to it.
Law was asleep, his Grecian profile all the more prominent when illuminated by the soft glow of the overhead plane lights. I reached out to touch him but pulled back just as quickly. Shaking my head, I turned back to the window. Whatever had happened between Law and me in Boston would most likely stay in Boston.
“What are you thinking now, Dandelion?” Law’s words startled me and I turned to see his eyes open and studying me.