The Long Wait for Tomorrow Read online

  “Yeah, I got in,” Patrick said casually, sitting down. “Got the letter back in January.”

  “Patrick!” Jenna held out her hands in a silent What the hell, guy?

  “I take it you’re revealing state secrets,” Al said, sipping his coffee.

  “But you got a letter saying …” Jenna glanced over to Kelly, then remembered he didn’t remember he didn’t remember. Turned back to Patrick. “You got a letter saying you were waitlisted.”

  “Faked it,” Patrick admitted. “Easy as pie, once you know the magic of Photoshop.”

  “But why?”

  “Just trying to postpone tomorrow for as long as I could.” Patrick shrugged. Remarkably at ease with his accumulated disasters. “I also might have gotten into Juilliard, but my parents are holding the letter hostage.”

  “Patrick!” Jenna threw an oven mitt at Patrick’s head. “I have to hear this from my dad?”

  “You just heard it from me….”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Well, you’re hearing it now,” Patrick said. “Juilliard is actually the only place I didn’t get accepted to immediately. I’ve been hunting for that letter, too, but we all know the story with that now.”

  “They don’t want you to go,” Al concluded with a disappointed frown.

  “Ohio State or bust,” Patrick sighed. Hunched over, elbows on his knees.

  “You know, I was called out by them, once.” Al leaned back, put his arms behind his back. “Your parents. Had a problem with a leak up over the kitchen. Turned out to be a problem with the pipe coming from the upstairs sink. Gave ’em a good deal, on account of you being friends with Jenna and all. Never got a call back, though …”

  The conversation dead-ended for a while. Pleasant and unassuming silence accompanied by the sound of running water and the soft rattle of knives and spoons.

  “So are you going, then?” Jenna asked, hips flat against the counter. Eyes on Patrick’s socks. “Are you going to Juilliard?”

  Patrick scanned the pictures on the refrigerator. “I don’t know.”

  “I mean, if you got in, which I’m sure you did.”

  “I don’t know….” Unable to stop himself, Patrick looked up at Jenna.

  She lifted her face up from the floor. Slowly, as though raising a drawbridge. Her eyes met his, still new to the practice, but nonetheless able to understand what remained unspoken. She quietly set aside her acceptance letter and crossed her arms, slowly rubbing her shoulders.

  “So …” Al’s voice was soft, gently sliding between them. “Prom’s tonight. What do you kids have planned for today?”

  Patrick leaned back, taking a cue from Al’s relaxed slouch. “Kelly …” He looked over to the sink. “Are you still here?”

  “It’s still today,” Kelly replied, shutting off the water. He picked up a green towel and dried his hands with thorough rubs. “And we’ve got some unfinished business.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small gray memory card.

  “Try finishing your coffee first,” Al recommended. “You look tired.”

  Kelly didn’t need to be told twice.

  dmund stepped out into the muggy afternoon. He seemed genuinely surprised to see Patrick. The screen door slammed behind him, and he looked around the front porch with trademark suspicion. Leaned to the side, checking out the walkway.

  “Where’s Kelly?” he asked.

  “At the playground.” Patrick pointed across the street. “He didn’t want to make a big deal.”

  Edmund’s eyes narrowed. “Big deal of what?”

  “Of this …”

  Despite the unsettling nature of Edmund’s mistrust, Patrick had to hold back a smile.

  Edmund appeared unable to place the memory card in his mind. He stared, confused, as though Patrick had just ambushed him with a diamond engagement ring. His Adam’s apple worked once, twice against his neck before he could manage to ask: “What’s that?”

  “Our half of the bargain.”

  Edmund didn’t move.

  He doesn’t want to believe, his angels nudged silently. He’s lived it for so long, he can’t begin to imagine there’s anyone left on his side.

  “Go ahead,” Patrick encouraged. “Take it.”

  Edmund took the memory card gingerly between his thumb and index finger. Held it close to his face. He turned it over a few times, thoroughly examining both sides. The action was purely arbitrary, but it came through as absolutely necessary. Searching for evidence of an elaborate practical joke, enemies everywhere.

  “Thank you,” he said cautiously.

  “Don’t,” Patrick replied. “I don’t have a leg to stand on. This whole thing was as much my fault as it was for the rest of those numb-nuts on the team.”

  “Yeah … Still, though, thanks.”

  Patrick thought he detected a question mark punctuating the appreciation. He couldn’t blame the kid, though. With a simple nod, he put his hands in his pockets, turned to walk down the front steps. Back on solid ground before he heard Edmund pipe up: “Do you think Kelly would mind if I went over and talked to him?”

  Patrick turned, shrugged. “Not at all. Now that we’re all squared away.”

  Edmund took to the steps, and the pair of them started off across the street.

  “You guys going tonight?” Edmund asked, trying for casual. “The prom?”

  “Maybe. We were supposed to share a limo with some of the guys from the team.” Patrick shook his head with a slight laugh. “Don’t think that part’s going to be happening.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just saying, if you thought you were unpopular before last night …”

  Patrick didn’t think Edmund had even heard about the game. Still, the thought of a football player rating below Edmund on the social ladder brought the dark outline of a smile to the sad outcast’s lips.

  They reached the two-foot concrete barrier that surrounded the park, keeping erosion at bay. Stepping up, they rode the small slope up to where the grass leveled out. A collection of wooden play sets greeted them; slides, ladders, monkey bars.

  Kelly and Jenna were sitting on the swings, swaying back and forth.

  Toes twisting in the scattered cedar chips all around.

  “Edmund.” Kelly saluted. He nodded to his side. “I’d like you to meet Jenna.”

  “Hi, Edmund.”

  He clearly wasn’t expecting a girl, and Edmund flustered his way into a mumbled greeting. For a moment, Patrick thought Edmund might even try hiding behind him, the comforting sanctuary of a mother’s skirt.

  “It’s been a big day,” Kelly said. “Glad you could make time for us.”

  “I—I wanted to see you,” Edmund stammered.

  “Thank you.”

  “No, you shouldn’t …” Edmund cleared his throat. He began anew, taking a firmer stance. “I thought I should tell you that I wasn’t entirely on the level. Yesterday, when it came to the time-travel thing.”

  “Do tell.”

  “I mean, it’s all just theory.” He began to speak more rapidly. “And I don’t even understand most of it. All I presented yesterday was an assortment of ideas, things that I’d read about in periodicals and stories. Some of it doesn’t even have any direct scientific bearing, I was just … trying to tell you things I’d thought you wanted to hear, because I thought that if I didn’t … I mean, there’s time loops, and wormholes, and the actual nature of time—”

  “I liked your theories,” Kelly assured him. “They gave me a lot to think about.”

  Edmund let out a shaky breath, struggling against Kelly’s sincerity.

  “Edmund …” Kelly hesitated, then took the plunge. “Edmund, what was it you even saw?”

  For a moment, it looked as though Edmund was about to weave himself yet another defensive cocoon. The darkness returned to his eyes, fists balling up.

  Patrick was on the verge of saying something, anything, to bring him back into the
fold.

  And then, incredibly enough, Edmund fought back, somehow calling upon himself to ignore the ingrained misgivings that came with every human interaction. Muscles relaxing. Eyes lucid once more.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “If you still think I’m not on the level …”

  “I mean, I don’t know what I saw …,” Edmund explained. “I’m staying late in the science lab one afternoon, rooting through the supply closet, when Cody comes in with some guy I’d never seen. He was an older guy. White guy, with a crappy beard and big, dumb gold chains. I guess they thought they were alone, because Cody gave him some money, and the guy gave him a bottle of something.”

  “Guess they found you out,” Kelly said, shaking his head.

  “It’s like something out of Kafka … I don’t even know what I saw.”

  “Well … what have you got in your hand there?”

  Edmund glanced down, memory card resting in his open, sweaty palm.

  “What’s that still doing in one piece?” Kelly smiled.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Edmund mumbled, head downcast.

  “You had no reason to.”

  “I didn’t want to be made an idiot … again.”

  “We’ve got the camera right here,” Kelly offered again. “If you want to take a look at the pictures on that card, make sure it’s really the one Cody—”

  “No …” Edmund shook his head. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I believe you.”

  Kelly nodded. “Then have at it.”

  The memory card fell to the ground. Edmund raised his foot and brought it down in a slow grind, twisting the tip of his brown Hush Puppy. For good measure, he switched to the heel, biting down on his lower lip as the plastic snapped, broke apart.

  “Sweet music,” Kelly murmured, grabbing on to the swing chains and tilting his head back. Eyes closed in anticipation of what felt like an approaching rainstorm.

  Edmund let go with a long, exhausted sigh, body trembling with unexpected release. Patrick saw his lower lip quiver. Tears ran down Edmund’s face, dotting the ground around the decimated memory card, all that was left of that squalid afternoon by the flagpole.

  And it was something special when Edmund finally smiled.

  That’s satisfaction you’re feeling, Patrick’s angels informed him.

  He reached out to pat Edmund on the back.

  Edmund didn’t flinch, even as Patrick gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

  “So what happens now, Kelly?” Edmund asked, looking up from his kill with a satisfied sniffle. “You going to disappear into a white flash of light, like the guy from that old Quantum Leap show?”

  “Don’t think it’s going to go down like that.” Kelly straightened himself. “I was just thinking, maybe if I actually got some sleep. Maybe then.”

  “So maybe it’s time to get some sleep,” Edmund suggested.

  “All in good time,” Kelly said, getting up from the swing. He brushed off his pants. “There’s one more thing I’d like to take care of.”

  They waited for him to elaborate.

  “Head on home, Edmund,” Kelly advised, stepping forward and shaking his hand. “You don’t have anything to worry about anymore.”

  Edmund seemed loath to let go, keeping a firm grip on Kelly’s hand.

  “You’re a good man, Edmund …” Kelly gave it one last squeeze and let go. “You should stay that way.”

  Patrick thought about offering his own handshake, but simply gave a small wave as Edmund turned and made his way back across the park.

  The three of them watched him go, then headed over to Kelly’s car.

  “So it looks to be around two,” Jenna remarked, scanning the sky. “What do you want to do now, Kelly?”

  “Think it’s time we paid Patrick’s parents a little visit,” Kelly said, opening the door to his Ferrari. He caught Patrick’s eye, and motioned for him to get in. “A little overdue, don’t you think?”

  Patrick silently agreed.

  He jumped in the backseat, finally ready.

  hey parked the car out front and walked up along the stepping stones to Patrick’s house.

  “You always do this,” Kelly casually informed Patrick, taking a look around. “Nobody else in this neighborhood comes in the front way except—”

  “We’ve had this conversation,” Patrick said dully, stomach tightening up.

  “Oh.”

  Patrick slipped the key into the lock, twisted the knob, and pushed.

  There was no need to announce his presence. Seated on the plush maroon couches were Patrick’s mother and father. Side by side, their heads turned to the front door, away from the television.

  “Where have you been?” Patrick’s mother demanded, shooting up. A flowered throw pillow slid off her lap and onto the floor. “Do you know who we just got off the phone with?”

  “I was out last night,” Patrick said evenly. “I wanted some time—”

  “Not you, Patrick.” His father jammed his thumb on the remote, muting the television. He joined ranks with Patrick’s mother, sent a finger pointing past his son. “We just got off the phone with your parents, Kelly.”

  Can’t even get punished properly when their firstborn’s around, Patrick’s angels spat. They don’t even realize they’re changing the subject.

  “Guess what, Mr. and Mrs. Saint?” Kelly said, crossing his arms. “My life happens to be none of your business.”

  “Please, Kelly, it’s Harris and Elizabeth,” Patrick’s father insisted, even as Kelly cut past his bogus attempts at intimacy: “Oh, so suddenly you two have names.”

  “What do you mean, none of our business?” Patrick’s mother asked, trying to catch up. Covering her shock with a ludicrous grin. “Kelly, we’re like parents to you.”

  “No, you’re actually quite a bit like Patrick’s parents to me.”

  “Kelly, what—”

  “Hey!” Patrick yelled, bringing the babble to a sudden halt. Never thinking it was possible to command any kind of attention in his own house, with his own parents. Feeling it for the first time, remembering all the stolen moments that should have been his. Kelly had been right.

  “I got into Ohio State …” In the brief seconds following his announcement, Patrick sensed this was his one chance at their undivided attention, and he took full advantage. “I actually got in ages ago, early acceptance. I forged the wait-list letter and … I’ve been getting to the mail before you-all, every chance I got, just to intercept any additional letters OSU might’ve been sending. I also applied to Juilliard for early acceptance, as you’ve both figured out. I scheduled my audition to coincide with the band trip to New York. Back in December, but … I guess I didn’t do so hot, it was the only place that really wait-listed me. I never told you because … because I wanted to see if I could just get into Juilliard. If I ever even had a chance. And maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. But if it turns out I didn’t, you both win. I got into Ohio State, and I’ll go there. If I have to.”

  And even though the television was muted, its alien hum filled in for what should have been a frenzied burst of congratulations. Instead, Patrick’s parents remained glued at the shoulder, stuck in the middle of stationary gestures, a pair of deactivated robots. Unsure of what they’d heard, but it was more than that.

  They don’t even know what to say.

  “They don’t know what to say,” Patrick agreed, almost amazed at how right he was. “You two don’t even know what to say. You don’t even know whether to be happy or not. This was all you said you wanted, for me to go to OSU with my replacement brother.”

  The concept seemed to jar Patrick’s mother from her paralysis, enough to blink, at least. “Of course it’s what we wanted …” She stopped short, realizing she was going to need more.

  “Because you can’t admit anything.” Patrick pressed ahead, unraveling. “It’s all been one nonstop act since Casey died. And if your remaining son gets into Ju
illiard, you might have to actually realize that there is no plan, nothing you can do about anything.”

  “Patrick, I said we’d talk about Juilliard when—”

  “No, we’ve got to talk about it now.”

  “You’ve got something that belongs to Patrick,” Kelly said, brushing his way past the sofas, toward the kitchen. “Where is it?”

  “In her bag,” Patrick said. “I doubt she’s even thought about it since yesterday.”

  Patrick’s father held out his hand. “Kelly—”

  “You don’t talk to me!” Kelly spun around, filling the kitchen doorway with his body. “My aunt died in that accident. And I thought that was bad, all that weight on my shoulders. But you two. You two are sick, you know that? Your son is dead. Casey’s dead…. And Patrick isn’t.”

  He didn’t wait for their reaction. Kelly contented himself with a quick exit into the kitchen.

  Patrick turned back to his parents.

  His father reached out, cupped his hands around his wife’s shoulders.

  She shrugged them off, breathing deeply.

  Refusing to be affected.

  Jenna moved to Patrick’s side and scooped his hand into hers.

  Patrick wasn’t sure what any of it meant. There had been times, in his room. Making music, making sure his parents weren’t in the house, because they hated the sound. Blasting enraged melodies, imagining what this moment would be like. Anger turning to relieved tears, mellow notes as his parents broke down and admitted their transgressions, begging to be forgiven for their sins. Years of neglect struck down with a single blow to the Achilles’ heel. The silver bullet.

  “Patrick,” his mother began, taking a small step forward. “Where were you last night?”

  Now that he’d said his piece, Patrick found the question to be strangely appropriate. He was almost thankful at the opportunity to move on.

  Even still, there was something unnerving about it. “I was with Kelly.”

  “All night?”

  Patrick bristled. “I don’t understand what this—”

  The front doorbell rang.

  Harris held his arm out, as though trying to will Patrick from answering the door. “Patrick, if we tell them they don’t have a right to come in without a warrant, or question you without an arrest, then it’s going to look bad.”