“Maybe there was another reason,” said Val.
“Like?” said Zoe.
Val twisted her mouth into a frown.
“I got nothing,” she said.
When Zoe was ready to call her mom, Val slipped out of the car to give her some privacy. She gave Zoe an encouraging shove as she left.
Zoe watched Val disappear into a thrift store across the street, then finally called. Even the phone sounded jittery as it rang. It took her mother forever to answer.
“Zoe, what’s up? Are you okay? I’m working.”
The first fat drops of rain had begun to detonate on the windshield.
“Zoe? Are you there? What’s wrong?”
Zoe hardened her voice so she wouldn’t cry.
“What’s wrong is that you told the cops not to go get Dad’s body,” she said. “Which is so messed up! And you lied to me about it.”
There was a long pause. Zoe waited. She could hear the everyday sounds of the Hot Springs in the background—the ping of the door opening, the beep of the cash register, the scuffling of bath slippers on the concrete floor.
“Look, this is a long conversation,” her mother said. “And I can’t have it right now. I’ve got people asking for their money back because they don’t want to sit outside in the rain—like I’m responsible for the rain.”
Zoe slid over to the driver’s seat and switched on the windshield wipers so she could see out. The rain was already coming down hard, hitting the roof like nails.
“I don’t care how long a conversation it is,” she told her mother. “I want to have it now.”
Across the street, Val was waving at her through the thrift store window. She was modeling a red suede blazer, and asking Zoe’s opinion. Zoe shrugged in a meh sort of way. The red clashed with the orange streaks in Val’s hair.
“I told the police to leave him because I didn’t want someone else to get themselves killed,” said Zoe’s mom. “And that is the truth.”
Zoe considered this.
“You’re full of crap,” she said.
“Zoe!” said her mother.
“I’m sorry, but you are,” said Zoe. “That may be part of the truth, but it’s definitely not all of it.”
“So tell me,” her mother said. “Why’d I do it?”
“Because of all that stuff you told me about him and Stan,” said Zoe. “Because Dad was never around. Because he was a ‘disappointment’ or whatever you called him. Because you hated him.”
“You’re wrong,” her mother said. “I never, ever hated your father. I wouldn’t have spent twenty years with someone I didn’t love. If nothing else, I wouldn’t want to set an example like that for you and Jonah. You’re going to have to guess again.”
“I’m sick of guessing,” said Zoe. “I told you before X left that I want to know everything.”
“And I told you that you don’t,” her mother said.
There was another silence, a stalemate.
“Listen,” said her mother. “There’s stuff I’m still sorting through. There’s stuff I’m still forgiving your father for. I’m not ready to talk about all of it yet—and I don’t think you’re ready to hear it. I’m sorry.”
Val appeared in the shop window again. She was holding an absolutely enormous plastic skunk. How about this?!
Zoe laughed silently, so her mom wouldn’t hear her.
A car cruised past, kicking slush up against the windows. Her mother was still waiting for her to say something.
Zoe wasn’t ready to forgive her. She just wasn’t.
“You know what?” she said. “I don’t really care what you thought of Dad. Jonah and I loved him, even if he was lame sometimes.” She paused. “I warned the police, and now I’m gonna warn you. Dad taught me how to cave—and you know what that means? That means I know how to go get him.”
Val trotted back to the car in the rain. She crossed in the middle of the street and, when a pissed-off trucker honked at her, responded with a quick curtsy. She slipped into the car, and handed Zoe a bag. She’d bought her a trophy at the thrift store. It had a weird golden O at the top.
“You won Best Donut,” said Val.
Zoe broke out of her mood long enough to smile and accept the award graciously.
“There are so many people I want to thank,” she said.
Zoe set the trophy on the backseat, and started up the Struggle Buggy. The engine coughed before catching, annoyed at being woken up. But soon they were out on the wide, rain-slicked highway to Kalispell. Zoe told Val they had to make one more stop. They had to see Dallas. When she began to explain, Val interrupted her.
“You want to see him because he’s a caver,” she said. “You want him to train you in case you have to go into Black Teardrop.” She paused. “Hello? This is me, Zoe. I’m the one you don’t have to explain things to.”
The rain was gentler now. The clouds were pulling apart, and there was a small blue hatch in the sky. Zoe felt herself beginning to breathe again. She had a plan—and she’d won Best Donut. On the road in front of them, there was a massive pickup with dual back tires and a bumper sticker that read, Montana Is Full! I Hear North Dakota Is Nice.
Ten minutes later, Zoe pulled into the giant lot outside House of Huns, where Dallas had gotten his dream job on the grill. Val still wasn’t a huge fan of Dallas. He’d never asked out The Girl Who Was Gonna Say Yes, and Val was convinced he still had a thing for Zoe.