The Originals

Inside is just an ordinary doctor’s or dentist’s office with a reception desk in front—except that there’s no receptionist, and there are no waiting area chairs or decorations, either. The front room is empty. I look for a few minutes, then decide to leave, but just before I pull away, I see Mom pass by the doorway to the back area. She’s reading something, moving from the left side of the building to the right side, engrossed. She has a pen in her mouth, and she looks like she’s… working? Except that she’s not at the hospital. And she’s no longer wearing her scrubs.

Confused, I back away and jog to the car, looking over my shoulder every so often to make sure Mom’s not watching me. Distractedly, I make one stop before I go home. Then I drive back to the house even faster. When I arrive, I burst through the front door and call for Betsey and Ella. Ella appears from the direction of the kitchen; Betsey looks down at me curiously from the balcony.

“Mom’s not an ER doctor,” I say, out of breath for seemingly no reason. “Someone’s paying her twenty thousand dollars every month and it’s sure as hell not Memorial Hospital.”

The others are speechless for a few moments. Then finally, Ella speaks.

“Huh,” she says, looking stupefied. “I guess I was wrong about the watering-plants thing, then?”

“Yeah,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “I guess you were.”

fifteen

At noon on Saturday, we three are scattered around the rec room talking in circles. Mom said she was working a double shift—which means she’s probably at her secret office—but wherever she is, I’m glad that the house and the day are ours.

“So, are we going to confront her about it?” Ella asks, looking uneasy about her own question. She went along with the whole Sean thing, but I think that in general, deep down, she’s afraid of change. Plus she’s dating Dave, so her life has actually improved lately.

“She’ll probably just lie,” Betsey says, putting her feet up on the coffee table. “I mean, she’s lied to us for years about her job—”

“And about where her money comes from,” I interject.

“Right,” Bet says, “so what’s to stop her from just lying her way out of this?” She pauses. “I wish that girl from Twinner would get back to me. I mean, what if it’s really Beth? If we had that to throw at Mom—if we could catch her in that lie—then she’d be forced to tell us the rest.”

“I think the Twinner thing’s a coincidence,” Ella says. “I think she’s just a girl who happens to look sort of like us.”

“Exactly like us,” Betsey corrects her.

“In a picture,” Ella says. “Maybe not in real life. Whatever. I think we need to focus on Mom and why she’s lying, and what she’s really doing all night when she says she’s at work.”

“And we’re back to the question of confronting her or not,” I say before sighing. We’re all quiet for a minute, and I realize that the stereo’s on: It’s so low it sounds like it’s coming from another house.

“I can’t think when I’m starving,” Betsey says finally. “Someone go get pizza.”

“You’re so lazy,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Let’s get it from that place where Dave works,” Ella says, her ulterior motives shining bright as a neon sign.

“It’s afternoon,” Betsey says to me, “which means you’re the one who should go. I mean, I’d be happy to go, and I’m sure Ella would, too, but it’s your time.” She smiles at me devilishly, like she knows she’s won.

“Why don’t you go with me?” I ask, challenging her. “I mean, if you’re so happy to go.”

Betsey waits a beat, then says, “Okay.”

“What?” Ella asks. “If anyone’s going, I am. You guys don’t even like Dave.”

“Is he working today?” I ask. Ella shrugs.

“Well, I actually do want to go, because I need to pick up some new deodorant at the store next to the pizza place,” I say. “You guys always get the wrong kind.”

“Stan’s is in that complex,” Bet says. “Get ice cream, too.”

“I thought you were going with me,” I say, smirking.

“Oh, right, I am,” Betsey says, and I can’t tell if she’s kidding.

“You’re not seriously both going,” Ella says.

Betsey and I hold gazes for a few seconds, and then, when soundless words have passed between us, we both look at Ella. “Let’s all go,” I say. Betsey nods, then stands up.

“We can’t,” Ella says, but I know she really wants to see if Dave’s at the pizza place.

“Sure we can,” Betsey says. She’s already in the doorway. “Mom’s out. And besides, if she catches us, we’ll just ask her where she was today.”

“But what if someone sees us?” Ella protests even as she’s following me down the stairs.

“Ella, I’m not convinced there are any ‘someones’ who care about us anymore. And if there are, at this point, I might just take my chances.”

“Go, Lizzie!” Betsey says happily, opening the front door.

And then, for the first time in seven years, Ella, Betsey, and I step out of the house… together.

There’s a little shopping complex at the bottom of the hill boasting all the stores neighborhood residents could need or want. There’s a small grocery store, a pizza place, an ice cream shop, a coffee hangout, a nail salon, a gift shop, a dog groomer, and a dry cleaner. Ella’s driving, and she finds a spot in front of the least-frequented business—the reading-glasses store—and we all get out. Without words, we split up and walk to our destinations: Ella’s in charge of pizza, Betsey will grab ice cream, and I’ll stock up on toiletries.

I get what we need, pay, and leave the store, swinging the bags in my hands as I weave through parked cars. I breathe in the smell of pizza and environmentally friendly dry cleaning and feel at peace with things for the time being. Someone pulls into the space on the right side of the car, and even though they’re parked way too close, I’m content to wait for the driver to get out.

Until I realize that the driver is Grayson.

“Hi, Elizabeth!” she says when she sees me standing there. “Sorry, let me get out of your way. I thought this space was bigger.” She looks embarrassed as she shuts her door and has to squeeze between the cars to get out. “So, what’s up?”

“Just getting groceries,” I say, holding up my bags.

“Oh, cool,” she says, glancing into the car. I do the same: Betsey and Ella are both purposefully looking away. “Who’s that you’re with?”

“Just—”

Beep! Ella lays on the horn at exactly the right moment.

“Some super impatient people, apparently,” I say, laughing it off. “I guess I have to go. I’ll see you next week.”

“Okay, bye,” Grayson says, looking confused but moving aside so I can get in. She waves and starts walking away.

“This was so freaking stupid,” Ella says as I buckle my belt.