The following week, at least, is the start of our busy time, so there's a disruption of our regular farming schedule, which makes it a little less dull and a little less boring. This Thursday is Thanksgiving, so Daddy is busy preparing our turkeys for the butchers. I'd forgotten how busy it gets at the end of November.

Mom is watching me from the window. Every half hour or so, I look up at the house and see the curtains move.

Yes, Mom, I'm okay.

She worries too much. All I want though, is to be left alone. This is my life. It is what it is, and if I've accepted it, then Mom should too.

"Why haven't you used your dancing leg yet?" she asks every chance she gets.

"Because, Mom, it's not what I want anymore."

"Then go back to school. You walk like everyone else. No one would even know."

"Everyone will know, Mom. They've heard about the accident."

"Then go to a different school. We can apply online."

"Sam. Enough." Dad always ends the redundant conversation.

"Rose," my mom says when I walk in the door, exhausted from bringing the last of this season's turkeys to the butcher. "After you take a shower, get dressed in something other than your pajamas for a change."

"Why? I'm only gonna be helping you bake pies for tomorrow."

"Yes, I know, but...well...we're having company for Thanksgiving and they're coming tonight."

"Tonight? Who?"

She sucks in a breath and I know right away I'm going to be p.i.s.sed.

"Who?"

"Holly and her boyfriend."

"And her boyfriend? Mom, why?"

"And your friends Griffin and Cali and someone named Nathan."

"Oh my G.o.d, Mom, why? I don't want to see them now."

I storm up the stairs as best I can and slam my bedroom door behind me.

Maybe if it were just Holly visiting I wouldn't be so upset, but she invited all of them. Why? Doesn't she get it? I want to be left alone.

I text Holly and beg her not to come, then I detach my leg, go in the bathroom, and undress to take my shower. When I'm done, I slip on yoga pants and a baseball jersey and reattach my leg. Not bothering to dry my hair, I braid it wet, stick my phone in the waistband of my pants, and go downstairs, saying nothing to my mother while we slice and peel apples for the pies.

"You look especially pretty tonight, Rosebud," my father says when he comes in.

I mumble a quick "Thanks" but return to my brooding.

Patti and Beth walk in from their two-day trip to Syracuse to pick up Terri.

"Terri," my mother squeals. "Oh, I've missed you." They embrace in a long hug and then Terri looks at me.

"Hi Ter," I say, smiling before I hug her.

"How are you, Rose?" Her tone is full of pity and verging on condescension, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Don't."

"What?"

"Don't talk to me like that. I'm fine."

"I know," she says wide-eyed. "I just..."

"Rose, she just hasn't seen you...since..."

Since the accident, or at least since I entered rehab.

"Still. I'm fine, Terri. Please treat me like normal."

She nods.

"Then why don't you act it?" Patti mutters.

"What?" I spin around to face her.

"You heard me."

"Girls," my mother chides.

"No, Mom, she's gotta know," Patti continues. "You mope around this house like your life is over instead of being grateful every day that you're still alive. My G.o.d, Rose, when you were lying in that hospital bed with all those machines and tubes sticking out of you...we thought you weren't gonna make it." Her voice breaks. "I thought I'd never get to talk to you again, and here you are, perfectly capable of talking and walking and going to school, and you can still be anything you friggin' want, but you sulk. And it's like you're dead anyway. Get over it already. So you have one leg. Big f.u.c.king deal. You're here. You're here, G.o.ddammit..." She can't finish because her tears have become too much.

I look at everyone and they're all just staring at me, their eyes bubbling over.

"You all feel this way?" I ask, barely breathing myself.

Every single one of them nods. Even Terri, who hasn't been here to properly give her two cents.

I huff.

And dramatically, I puff. I want to scream. I want to blow my top. Has any one of them even come close to being in my shoes?

With my two hands held up in defense, I shake my head and walk out, but not before grabbing my phone and the keys to my father's old truck.

The gas tank is empty and I have no money. I didn't even think to grab my driver's license. Because I'm in no position to run out of gas, I head up through a private trail in the woods not too far from my house and park, turning off the engine despite the cold.

My mind is all over the place - what if this? Or what if that? I know that playing the what-if game is a dangerous road to travel, but I can't help but wish I could turn back the clock five and a half months.

Then my thoughts go to Johnny. I don't know much about what happened to him, but I do know how he ended up. Yet he never let anyone see him down. Ben says it's the thought of his mother keeping him going, but I don't understand that kind of selflessness. All I think about anymore is myself. And why this had to happen to me. It's not who I want to be, it just is.

I do the last thing I expect to do - I call Ben.

"h.e.l.lo."

"Hi," I say much too quietly.

"Rose? Are you okay?"

From out of nowhere, I cry.

"Rose. What's going on? Are you hurt?"

Oh my G.o.d, I can't stop crying long enough to get the words out.

"Are you home?" he asks.

"No." My tongue mimics the word but it barely comes out.

"Where are you, Rose?"

I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing, while willing the tears away.

"Rose." Ben's voice loses its urgency.

"Mmm."

"You good?"

"How's..." I swallow what feels like gla.s.s in my throat. "How's Johnny?"

"Johnny?"

"Mmm."

"He's...okay. I spoke with him last week, Rose, what's going on?"

"No...no one understands."

"Understands? Understands what?"

"Me."

"You. No one understands you?"

I shake my head.

"Rose, what don't they understand?"

I hear him breathing and it's quite heavy.

"That you're having a hard time adjusting to your new life? Because, honey, I understand. I understand completely. This changes your dream. I get it. I do. Is that what they don't understand?"

I nod, even though he can't see me.

"Because I do. And it's okay to feel this way. It's okay, Rose. Do you hear me? It's okay."

Silence consumes us for a couple minutes before Ben speaks again. "I'm only asking this as a friend, Rose, nothing more, but do you need me to come up? I'm in Haledon still, so I can be there in less than an hour."

"No, no, that's okay, I'll be all right." My breath hitches, a belated effect from my sobbing. "Wait a minute. Are you alone? For Thanksgiving?"

"I'm fine, Rose. I just want to know if you need me to come. If not, I'm good."

"Oh."

"Rose. Are you home?"

"No."

"Where are you?"

"In the woods somewhere."

"In the woods? Jesus Christ, Rose. You're alone?"

"Yeah. But I'm in my dad's truck."

"Go home, Rose. You can't sit in the woods, even if you are in a truck. Please go home."

"Yeah."

"Will you text me when you get there?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? You promise."

"I don't make promises. I don't believe in them anymore."

"Rose. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Better yet, put me on speaker while you drive. This way I'll know you got home."

I sniff some leftover tears.