“It’s not a public phone, Remedy.”
“I know. It’s really important. I promise.”
My tone must reveal something because she pulls the landline up to the counter and tells me to dial three before I enter the number.
Pulling out the paper, I carefully enter the numbers. Truth is, Sadie is the closest thing to family I have ever had.
“Hello?” A voice I’d know anywhere comes through the line.
“Hey, it’s Rem,” I tell her, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I got your email.”
The line is silent and for a moment I wonder if the memories I have of Sadie and me, both ten, sharing a bed in the basement of our foster home. We pinky swore we would always look out for one another. Always.
We haven’t talked in over three years.
“Rem. Wow. Is it really you?”
“Yeah, the one and only.”
“Where are you living?” she asks. “Last I heard you were going to art school in California.”
“Yeah, that didn’t happen. Kinda floating around right now.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry college didn’t happen, Rem.” Her voice is soft—Sadie always was the tender one. The yin to my yang, or whatever.
“It’s cool,” I say, swallowing the memories of getting kicked out of art school a semester in. It’s always been me against the world.
I wonder if I’ll ever outgrow the need to fight against the things I want the most? Self-sabotage is my bread and butter.
“So, when you say floating? What do you mean?”
I look up at the clerk who is doing a terrible job of ignoring me.
“Well, I don’t have a place to live, exactly. I’m in Seattle and… yeah. I’m trying to keep my chin, up, ya know? Keep on…”
“Keepin’ on,” she finishes for me. “Hey, if you’re trying to get your life together, come up to Alaska for a few months. I’d love to see you. I’m in Ketchikan, living with my boyfriend, Ray. We have an empty couch with your name on it.”
“Alaska?” I smile. “I’m not surprised. You always wanted to travel.” My heart warms at the idea of Sadie living the life she always wanted. “I could stay with you, really?” I don’t mention that I have no ideal how the hell I would ever get up there.
“Of course. It would be so good, like old times.”
I frown, having a hard time separating the good from the bad.
Old times revolved around our bitch of a foster mom forcing Sadie to clean the house, watch her kids—every job she was too lazy to do herself. Old times revolved around me getting sick of watching my best friend get treated like yesterday’s trash.
Old times revolved around me taking matters into my own hands.
No surprise I’ve been on my own since I was twelve.
“Want my address? You can take a ferry from Bellingham. Do it, Rem. It would be amazing.”
It feels good to pretend, if even just for this phone call.
“Okay, Sadie, I’ll come.”
Chapter 2
Remedy
I hang up with a smile on my face. Which is apparently shocking because the clerk, Diana, asks me who that was.
I don’t do personal, yet somehow, I find myself telling her about Sadie. About how we grew up in foster care. About her offer.
“Can I help?” Diana asks, already pulling something up on her computer.
“With what?” I give her a cynical stare. I know the price of help.
“With the fare. I could get you a ticket, Remedy.”
“Why?”
She tilts her head, gives a sad sigh as if she thinks I have no clue. Which, maybe I don’t. I don’t know much about generosity.
“Because everyone needs a little help sometimes.”
A few days later, I find myself leaning against the kitchen counter in Sadie’s one-bedroom apartment on the outskirts of Ketchikan. After a bus ride from Seattle to Bellingham, I boarded a ferry bound for the Southern tip of Alaska. And amazingly, two days later, here I am, watching my oldest, and only, friend mix a bottle of red sauce into a pot of spaghetti noodles.
“It smells so good,” I groan. Diana spotted me a hundred dollars to pay for food and any necessities on my trip, but I was frugal—wanting a few extra bucks in my pocket, in case of an emergency, more than I wanted food from the ferry’s restaurant. I’d bought a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter and made due.
Sadie shakes her head like I’m crazy. “It’s just pasta sauce from a jar.” Her pale blue eyes are rimmed with dark circles and I can’t help but wonder what keeps her up at night.
“And garlic bread,” I note, as she pushes up the sleeves of her sweatshirt to grab the silver-bagged loaf from the oven. As she moves, I see her exposed wrists. Dark bruises punctuate her fair skin.
“When’s the last time you had a hot meal?” she asks.
I swallow, not exactly wanting Sadie to know how long I’d been on the streets. “Too long.”
She pours herself a glass of water, the sink leaking even after she turns it off. “Gah, I need to get that fixed.”
“Any cute repairmen in town?”
She blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s a guy, Jim, who does repairs for the apartment complex.”
I frown. “Can’t your boyfriend help?”
Sadie sighs. “Ray’s always busy.”
Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “But Jim?”
She waves a hand in the air, brushing me off. Thinking about Jim made her happy, if even for a split second. I want to know if Ray gets the same reaction.
“So, when do I get to meet your boyfriend?”
She presses her lips together. “Ray will be home any minute. He works at an auto shop in Ketchikan.”
“And where did you guys meet? I mean, how did you end up in Alaska?”
“I worked for a cruise line that came up here, which was a pretty good job. Then I met Ray when we were at a port, and well, I quit. He likes me to stay close to him.”
I squint my eyes. “And what do you like, Sadie?”
“It’s not like that. I got a job at the Stop N Save. Being a cashier is a good job.”
“But you always wanted to see the world. Why would you quit the cruise line job?”
Sadie shakes her head, then grabs three plates from the cupboard and starts setting the small dinette table. “Are you going to lecture me about quitting? Because, Rem, you aren’t really in a position to talk.”
I grab the green can of Parmesan cheese and set it on the table. “Fair enough. I just… I want you to be happy. We’ve been through enough, you know?”
“I am happy,” she says softly.
In the small kitchen, we’re face-to-face. “Really?”
She gives me what seems to be a forced smile. “Really.”
Knowing that pressing too hard never gets results, I back off. Looking out the kitchen window I see that the apartment complex is next to a thick forest.
“What’s out there?” I ask, my eyes raking over the evergreens, cloaked in black. Being this far north means the nights come early.