Just Friends

A promise kept

My parents flew into LAX airport that night. I'd spent the better part of the day making the necessary phone calls to cancel Madi's utilities and closing out her accounts. I'd take my parents to dinner in the city and then head over to Madi's apartment on 10th Avenue.

I watched the passengers deplane in small groups and individually, craning my neck to see my own parents. They emerged moments later, mom with a harried expression and dad nodding grimly. My parents were comically different- mom was high energy and vivacious, artistic and a little demanding. Dad was calm and analytical, and sometimes overly passive. They'd made for an interesting parenting strategy, but who was I to judge? I'd never been a parent to anything larger than a dog.

"Ellie belly!" Mom exclaimed, drawing startled glances in our direction. I could feel my cheeks flame as the other passengers watched her progress toward me, her suitcase forgotten at dad's side, and her arms extended wide in the air. Mom wore a loose brown knitted sweater and colorful smock with aged jeans that flared at the bottom. Dad managed the carry ons a few paces behind her, wearing a sensible pair of khakis and a polo.

"Hi Mom!" I exclaimed, dismissing the onlookers. Reunions were a normal part of airport life. Dad settled the luggage down behind mom and wrapped us both in his big arms, and the three of us stood that way for what seemed like forever. Guilt gnawed at me when I saw the pain in my parents' faces. They'd loved Madi, and news of her death had hurt them both; but I'd promised my cousin I'd never divulge her secret, and I intended to keep that promise.

"Honey, you look thin. Have you been eating?"

I smothered a smile. Mom was perpetually concerned about my eating habits.

"Yes, mom. In fact, I just finished breakfast. I went there with- well, that's another story for another time."

Mom's radar alerted her, of course, and her eyes widened as she linked her arm through mine. Poor Dad followed us both carrying the luggage.

"Who did you go to breakfast with, Ellie bellie?"

Why did I suddenly feel so self-conscious? Sure, Ian was handsome- exceedingly handsome, in fact- but I hardly knew the man. I'd met him under decidedly embarrassing circumstances, and our little breakfast was nothing short of strange. He'd left me his phone number after dropping me off at my car after breakfast. Ian had a way of talking without telling you much of anything about himself. I cringed at the idea of describing our first encounter at the memorial, and of mentioning my run in with Aunt Gwen and her brother, John (I refused to call him my uncle.) So instead, I changed the subject.

"I'll fill you in on everything on the way to dinner. First, I've got to run by Madi's apartment and pick up a few things."

I left my parents at their hotel and drove over to the Creekwood Manner Apartments. The name was misleading. Instead of a creek, the apartments sat adjacent to a rundown motel with chain link fencing around three quarters of it. On the other side of the complex sat an equally shabby video mart with a blinking sign that advertised pizza delivery. Madi's was on the second story, above a ground floor apartment with the screen torn off the window. I kept my head on a swivel as I retrieved the key she'd left me on her last night in California. She'd arrived at my front door tear-streaked and shaking, her clothes soaked from being out in the rain for hours. The entire encounter had been strange, since I hadn't seen or heard from my cousin in years. But there she was, my estranged cousin, pleading with me to help her disappear. So, I did.

The interior of the apartment was silent and dark. I searched for the light switch nearest the door and switched on the overhead lights, illuminating the destruction done to my cousin's apartment. The sparse furnishings had been overturned; their contents scattered out across the living space. The door had been undisturbed; how had the burglar gained access? Madi had given me the only key to her apartment two weeks earlier. The entire one bedroom was stale and cool, and chills shot up my back as I drifted from the living room to Madi's former bedroom. The bedsheets had been yanked off and left in a pile on the carpet, and the closet door torn from its hinges and left lying nearby. The baskets and boxes Madi had kept had been rifled through, and it was impossible to determine what had been taken from the apartment.

Though my cousin hadn't had much in the way of valuables, the television and DVD players were still intact, and her costume jewelry still in its box. I searched the mess for the item I'd come to procure, frustrated that I hadn't done it sooner. I'd need to report the burglary to police, after I found the diary. Madi had been very clear about that- obtain the diary and mail it to a post office box in Virginia.