When You Reach Me

Things Left Behind

“Guess what?” Annemarie said when I called her at home that night to see if she was okay. “Someone left a rose on our doormat.”

“For you?”

“I don’t know… maybe.” Of course it was for her. Who else would it be for?

“Was there anything with it? A card?”

“No. Just the rose.” Her voice sounded all thin and excited. “Weird, huh? I wonder—”

“Hey, can I ask you something? Are you not supposed to eat bread?”

She was quiet.

“It’s not a big deal, just that Julia said—”

“No,” she interrupted. “It is sort of a big deal. I should have told you. I have epilepsy—”

“Oh.”

“—and I’m not supposed to eat bread or starches. It’s this crazy diet my dad read about, but it actually works. I’m usually fine. People don’t even really know I have it, because for years I’ve hardly had any seizures at all.”

“Is that what happened today?

“Yeah. I sort of took a break from my diet. It’s been nice, working at Jimmy’s with you guys, eating whatever I want and not having anyone look at me funny or lecture me.”

Someone had lectured her, though. Julia had.

“You can still work at Jimmy’s,” I said. “Just don’t eat his crummy food.”

She laughed. “I know. Actually, my dad makes me a lunch every day. I’ve been throwing it in the garbage on the way to school. He’s pretty mad.”

That was hard to imagine.

“Anyway, my mother found this rose on our doormat when she got home from work. It’s like this really perfect-looking rose. Weird, huh?”

I let her talk about it a little more, about who might have left it, and why. I knew she wanted me to say that Colin probably did it, but I just couldn’t make myself say the words.