Page 7 of Our Sadie
Nope. She just vanishes as if no one spoke a single word.
It’s the kind of thing Paisley does and makes me wonder if I should add deafness or being hearing impaired to the list of injuries Sadie’s incurred. Not that I’m volunteering that information to either of the other dudes. I’m not in the mood to detail why that’s where my mind goes.
I twist around to lay out my socks and underthings in a three-drawer dresser when I hear Eager Puppy speaking up again.
“Hey, man, thought I’d size up the competition, I’m Zach.”
A glance behind me displays a fair-skinned kid with curly blond hair shaking the palm of a dark-complected guy right outside my room.
“Jerome,” answers Soft Voice, as if he just entered a library. Or maybe a church. At the ringing silence that follows, I do an about-face to discover each of them giving me the eagle eye.
Looks like intros are going down right now whether I like it or not.
“I’m Dom,” I mutter, shaking the other mens’ hands, sure to keep my grip strong. Not that I’m the kind of asshole who’ll crush bones or anything, but a handshake makes a statement, and I want these two to know right off the bat that I’m no pushover.
“Where you from, Dom?” Zach asks, and I turn back around to finish laying my socks in a row.
“Beantown.”
“Hey, me, too.”
“Guess we all are,” Jerome puts in, and as enlightening as all this is, I need to make sure my Zoom calls will go through from here.
“It’s great to meet you both and everything,” I start, attempting to not be a dick about it. “But I have to contact someone at home.” Screen-side out, I wave my phone at them, and Jerome immediately takes the hint. Zach, however, seems to be sizing up my scant belongings.
Or maybe he’s just staring unfocused into space. Whatever. The only thing I care about is having him gone. And I might’ve tossed him a look that doesn’t exactly conceal my feelings on the matter.
“Come on, Zach.” Jerome claps him on the back and leads him out. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself out here.”
As soon as they’re out, I snap the door shut behind them. Too bad I didn’t think of that earlier. First things first, I put my phone on the charger. It’s down to eleven percent, and my battery draining to nothing is unacceptable. The home can’t contact me without it, not even in an emergency. A flash of doubt surges through my gut.
Did I make a mistake by coming here?
I remember Sadie mentioning something about the inconsistency of the internet out here in our emails. I think she said that someone had added a Wi-Fi booster next to this building’s modem to fix that, so hopefully, my communication with my sister won’t be affected.
Distantly, I hear the murmurs of the other two guys chattering about their lives, and while that’s probably valuable information I might need later, I can’t concentrate on them. Not now.
Paisley is my only priority.
With my phone plugged in, I go ahead and initiate a Zoom. We’re in the same time zone, so that helps. It would’ve been such a pain if I had to calculate the difference every time I wanted to make a call.
The app seems to take forever to link, and like I often do, I grab my hand sanny out of my pocket and drizzle it all over my fingers. Never can tell what germs may be hanging around an unknown environment.
Finally, a connection is made and the screen lights up with George, one of Paisley’s favorite caregivers.
“Hey there, Georgie. How’s the Princessa?”
“Well, she had a bit of a challenge today.” He frowns, and I swear to God that my heart leaps halfway up my throat. “She lost Ripley.”
Ripley is my sister’s favorite toy. Though it’s less of a toy and more of a weird eraser with a little blue wig glued to it. It’s ugly as fuck and smells like cheese, but anytime we try to take it away she cries. Her losing it would be a nightmare. I’m already poised to go to Sadie and pull out of this when George continues.
“It was only for an hour, but she’s been pretty clingy ever since.”
The relief that hits me is intense. Just knock me over with a feather why don’t you. Except for the clingy part. Normally, the one she clings to is me. “But she’s okay?”
“Much better now, if even more attached to that thing than ever.” One side of his middle-aged mouth hitches up, making his gray flavor saver stick out, and I understand.
Ever since she got sick, it’s like she regressed into a much more emotional version of the child I once knew. In the beginning, I had to remind myself that my sister’s basically a little girl again, and you don’t lose your temper or get all pissed off at an innocent little girl.