Read Online Pieces of Why by K. L. Going - Free Book Online

happened right before a migraine hit.
    â€œI meant, could we look at your old pictures?”
    Ma’s breath released in a whoosh of relief. “Again?” she said, cracking a thin smile.
    â€œIt’s been a long time,” I argued, forcing the words out even as my heart broke. “And I want to see the ones of Grammy and Grandpa.”
    Ma stood up. “You gotta use more spray than that,” she said, watching over my shoulder. “Sure. I’ll go get the box.”
    Ma kept all her photos in a shoebox under her bed. They were worn and bent in places from us looking at them so often. She disappeared for a second, then came back and set the box onto the table while I finished up the waffles.
    I really did like looking at the pictures, so before I knew it, I was as caught up as Ma. We riffled through the box while we ate, taking our time examining each photo between syrupy bites, wiping our fingertips on washcloths, and being extra careful not to let the syrup drip.
    I loved the pictures of Ma as a teenager. She was usually posing with her hip jutted to one side or her mouth in a pout. Her hair was teased high on her head, and Ma laughed about how much hairspray she’d used to make it stay up. She looked so beautiful in those pictures—light and free, like all she did was laugh.
    Hard to imagine.
    I wondered if there was a picture of my father in that box, but I’d never dared to ask. Ma rooted around until she found a photo of her parents. They stood in front of their house on Felicity Street, Grandpa with a big, round belly and Grammy with a stick-thin frame. Grandpa smiled like someone had just told a joke, and Grammy’s eyes sparkled.
    I wished I had known them. Grandpa died not long afterMa graduated from high school, so I’d never met him, and Grammy passed away when I was small.
    â€œThey were so kind,” Ma said. “Your grandmother sang like an angel. You sound just like her. Sometimes when I close my eyes . . .” Ma breathed in deep. “I love it when you sing,” she said, “even if I don’t always make it to your concerts. You know that, right? I bet you were spectacular last night.”
    I tightened my hands into fists and felt my heart racing, too fast and too hard. Ma didn’t even know I hadn’t sung.
    â€œMa,” I blurted, “tell me about my father.”
    Ma had been sipping orange juice, but now she choked on it. She coughed the way people do when something has gone down the wrong pipe, hacking so hard I thought she might throw up.
    â€œNo,”
Ma said between coughs.
    She stood up and took her plate to the sink. She was still for a long time, leaning against the counter, and then she closed her eyes. “This isn’t a good time. I have to get dressed for my shift.” She was angry. “You could have given me some warning.”
    â€œPlease.”
How could Ma and I share the same secret without ever talking about it?
    â€œNo,” Ma said again. “I’ve told you before, there’s no point in bringing up the past. You know all there is to know.”
    Another lie.
    I watched Ma disappear into her room to put her uniformon, knowing that when she came out, her shoulders would be slumped and her eyes would be flat. She emerged a while later, set for work. For a few minutes she bustled around the kitchen without saying anything, and then she stepped up to the front door. “I’m pulling a double tonight,” she said, one hand on the doorknob, “so don’t wait up.”
    Guilt made my stomach churn.
    I’d spoiled the only time all week when she was happy.

CHAPTER 12
    O NCE MA was gone, the house was quiet.
    I tossed my dishes into the sink with a loud clatter, not sure who I was more frustrated with: me or Ma. Why wouldn’t she tell me the truth? And why couldn’t I make her?
    I kicked at a bag of foam peanuts, spilling some onto the floor, then picked