A Year to the Day Read online

  Dedication

  For Marguerite

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  August 17: 365 Days After

  May 16: 273 Days After the Accident

  April 11: 238 Days After the Accident

  March 20: 216 Days After the Accident

  March 8: 204 Days After the Accident

  February 15: 182 Days After the Accident

  January 30: 166 Days After the Accident

  January 6: 142 Days After the Accident

  December 24, 10:17 P.M.: 129 Days After the Accident

  December 24, 6:07 P.M.: 129 Days After the Accident

  December 19: 124 Days After the Accident

  December 13, 11:03 P.M.: 118 Days After the Accident

  December 13, 10:34 P.M.: 118 Days After the Accident

  December 13, 8:05 P.M.: 118 Days After the Accident

  December 6: 111 Days After the Accident

  December 2: 107 Days After the Accident

  November 28: 103 Days After the Accident

  November 13: 88 Days After the Accident

  October 29: 73 Days After the Accident

  October 29, 2:09 A.M.: 73 Days After the Accident

  October 15: 59 Days After the Accident

  October 12, 6:20 P.M.: 56 Days After the Accident

  October 12, 5:04 P.M.: 56 Days After the Accident

  October 12, 2:32 P.M.: 56 Days After the Accident

  October 10: 54 Days After the Accident

  October 7: 51 Days After the Accident

  September 20: 34 Days After the Accident

  September 17: 31 Days After the Accident

  September 13: 27 Days After the Accident

  September 4: 18 Days After the Accident

  August 25: 8 Days After the Accident

  August 18, 4:13 A.M.: 5 Hours and 47 Minutes After the Accident

  August 18, 1:44 A.M.: 3 Hours and 18 Minutes After the Accident

  August 17, 11:24 P.M.: 58 Minutes After the Accident

  August 17, 10:36 P.M.: 10 Minutes After the Accident

  August 17, 10:26 P.M.: The Accident

  August 17, 12:54 A.M.: 23 Hours and 28 Minutes Before the Accident

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Robin Benway

  Back Ad

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  August 17

  365 Days After

  ON THE MORNING of the first anniversary of her older sister Nina’s death, Leo wakes up, looks at her mussed, tangled bedsheets, and bursts into tears.

  The house is quiet around her, almost too quiet, like it’s holding a secret, or maybe it’s still mourning like the rest of them—missing Nina between its walls, Nina thundering down the stairs, slamming the door behind her before bursting back in a few hours later, her voice echoing into the rafters. It sort of reminds Leo of when her parents got divorced and her dad moved out, his presence making him feel like a ghost even though he was still alive and living just a few miles away with Leo’s stepmom, Stephanie.

  “Leo?”

  Leo sits up a little and pushes her hair out of her face and wipes at her cheeks. The day already feels warm and bone-dry, even with the windows all closed. “Yeah?” Her voice is scratchy and raw, and she clears her throat. “Come in.”

  Her mom opens the door. Her hair is all tangled, too, and she’s got a robe wrapped tightly around her, a mug of tea in her hands. “You awake?”

  “Well, my eyes are open, so I guess technically, yes,” Leo replies, but scoots over so her mom can come sit down next to her. In the doorway, Denver, their corgi, peeks into the room and then waddles in before turning around three times and settling himself on a pile of Leo’s dirty laundry.

  “How are you doing?” her mom asks.

  Leo just shrugs.

  “Yeah, me too,” her mom says with a sigh. “It’s like I’ve been waiting for this day and dreading it at the same time.”

  “Worst finish line ever,” Leo says, which makes her mom smile a little.

  “Your dad texted me this morning,” her mom says. “He and Stephanie are going to bring the baby over a little early just to see if they can get her down for a nap first.”

  Leo feels her heart twitch at the mention of her three-month-old half sister, the surprise addition who has become a steady joy. “Cool,” she says. “East said he’d come over a little bit early, too, just if we need help.”

  “That’s nice,” her mom says, nodding absently at the mention of Nina’s old boyfriend. “He can maybe help move the rosebush into the backyard.”

  They had all gone back and forth about an appropriate tribute for Nina, as if there was anything in the world that could adequately honor her. Leo’s dad had suggested releasing balloons, which Leo and her stepmom, Stephanie, quickly shot down. “That is so not okay for the environment,” Leo had said, while Stephanie took the more practical approach: “Who’s going to transport two hundred balloons from the store to the house, hmm?”

  Finally, they decided on a rosebush, and they met at a fancy gardening store to choose one. Leo had had no idea that there were so many different kinds of roses, but she, her dad, her mom, and Stephanie had all finally agreed on the Daring Spirit rose, which was a fancy kind of rose that looked tie-dyed and chaotic. “It’s perfect,” Leo had said as soon as she heard the name, and all of the adults murmured in agreement.

  The baby had been there, too, bundled in a complicated-looking piece of fabric that wrapped around Stephanie’s middle, and when they all finally agreed on the rose, she let out a squawk of approval and then fell asleep.

  There’s a hole in the ground of the backyard now, waiting for the tribute planting. Leo can see it from her window.

  “It’s going to be a beautiful day,” Leo’s mom says, leaning over the bed so she can move the curtain a bit.

  Leo rests her head against her mom’s shoulder. “Kind of wish I could just stay in bed all day, though.”

  Her mom smiles ruefully, then pats Leo’s knee. “Me too, sweetheart.”

  Her mom’s hired a caterer for the memorial and the house is as clean as it’s going to get, so Leo hops on her bike and heads over to her dad and stepmom’s house to keep an eye on the baby so they can get ready. “I’ve never been happier to see you in my life,” Stephanie says when she opens the door. Half her hair is in hot rollers and she’s holding the baby, who looks at Leo with a suspicious gaze.

  But once Leo’s inside, Stephanie says, “You doing okay?” and gives Leo a one-armed squeeze as her dad comes around the corner. He looks tired but still gives her a smile and a hug, which Leo returns. “I brought you something for the nursery,” Leo says to Stephanie as she lets go of her dad. “You said you were looking for a photo but couldn’t find something.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful!” Stephanie says. “Here, let’s give this bundle of terror to your dad and then we can head up.”

  Leo’s not sure she’ll ever get used to hearing her dad talk to a baby, how his voice goes high and stupid like he’s been sucking on helium balloons for fun. “He’s such a mush around her,” Stephanie whispers as they go upstairs.

  “He sounds unhinged,” Leo whispers back.

  “I know, it’s so cute.”

  The nursery is, of course, completely tasteful and done up in grays and creams with just a little bit of pink here and there. Leo sees the old dresser that they went to pick up last March, now clean and polished and looking brand-new.

  Stephanie runs a big Instagram account, @SweetHomeBySteph, that has over 300,000 followers and focuses mostly on “rustic, timeless” furniture, and free things are always showing up at their house, rugs and housewares and, once, even a sectional sofa. There are never any shoes tossed in a heap by the front door at their house, or a fine layer of corgi fur on everything. “Where’s the dust?” Nina used to say whenever they came over.

  “So I hope this is okay,” Leo says. “If it’s not, you can totally say no, my feelings won’t be hurt at all.”

  (Her feelings will absolutely be hurt, of course, but Leo decides to worry about that part later.)

  “I’m sure I’m going to love it,” Stephanie says.

  Leo takes a deep breath and then digs it out of her bag. “I put some tissue paper around it so it wouldn’t get scratched,” she says, and Stephanie carefully folds back the paper to reveal the framed photograph that East had taken and printed and given to Leo on Christmas Eve, the one that had made her cry.

  Stephanie’s eyes immediately fill.

  “It was taken, well, today. Or at least, a year ago today,” Leo rushes to explain. “East took it and he gave it to me, but I thought maybe it’d be better here than in my room.” From the frame, Nina’s face beams up at them.

  “This is beautiful,” Stephanie breathes, then reaches for Leo to give her another hug. “Truly. East is so talented, look at this.”

  Leo just nods as Stephanie sets it on the shelf next to a stuffed elephant wearing a tutu. “It’s perfect,” Stephanie murmurs.

  Afterward, Leo plays with the baby for a bit while her dad showers and Stephanie gets dressed. “Playing” with the baby means that Leo covers her eyes and then uncovers them while the baby gives her a reproachful look, as if to say How stupid do you think I am? “Look,” Leo finally says to her, “if it were up to me, we’d be watching Netflix, but apparently that will stunt your brain. I don’t make the rules here,” she adds when the baby
narrows her eyes at Leo.

  Leo’s kind of glad that the baby is so skeptical. It feels, in some way, like the most fitting tribute to Nina.

  Once everyone’s ready, Leo’s dad loads her bike into the trunk of his car so he can take her home. “I’ll be right behind you,” Stephanie says. “Just gotta feed the beast.”

  In the garage, Leo’s dad tosses her the key fob. “Think fast,” he says, and she does. “Why don’t you drive us back?”

  Leo hasn’t driven at all since before Nina died and the fob feels heavy in her hands. “You know how slow I am,” she says.

  “You’ll be fine.”

  “You’re the one who said I was slow! You said I drive like a grandma.”

  Her dad shrugs. “We’ve got an hour and we’re going two miles. That should give us just enough time.”

  Leo looks down at the car, then at the fob in her hands. “Fine,” she says, and climbs into the driver’s seat, taking the wheel in her hands. It’s smooth, not like East’s car, she thinks to herself, and then wonders why she knows that.

  Her dad slides into the passenger seat. “You ready?” he asks.

  “Always.”

  “Okay,” he says, then smiles. “Just don’t honk.”

  Leo has to smile at that.

  His seat belt snaps into place. That sound, the harsh metal click!

  And Leo’s smile fades as she shudders.

  Leo feels shaky all during the memorial.

  Everyone is there: Nina’s old boyfriend, East, and his dad, both of them wearing collared shirts and looking somber; Leo’s friend Madison and her parents; Kai and Aidan and Dylan, who has his girlfriend Sophie draped all over him; Aunt Kelly and Uncle David and a gaggle of cousins; a few of Nina’s friends from school and their neighbors. Denver is there, too, proudly wearing his plaid collar and trotting after people who have helped themselves to the cheese plate. Leo even sees Brayden and his mom for a minute, but he’s too far away for her to go say hello. She’ll DM him later, she figures.

  Across the yard, East gives her a questioning look and a thumbs-up sign, but Leo looks away and pretends to be busy with something else. She’s not ready to look at him yet.

  Her mom and dad stand up at the front and thank everyone for coming. Leo hasn’t seen them stand together since the night of the accident and it makes her feel weirdly hollow. “We also want to say thanks to everyone who’s held us up over this past year,” her dad continues in a wobbly voice. “And I know that my wife, Stephanie, and Eleonora—Leo—say thank you, as well.”

  Leo groans as she feels all of her friends’ heads immediately pivot to look at her. “Eleonora?” Madison mouths at her, then giggles behind her hand.

  Leo will definitely be having words with her dad later.

  They plant the rosebush and everyone claps, which feels like a weird and yet very normal thing to do, and then there’s food and drinks and hugs and tears and and smiles and laughter. East takes a few pictures with his fancy camera. Leo mostly hangs out with her friends. As the sun sets, her anxiety starts to pulse like a heartbeat even as she circulates and holds the baby for a while and stands next to her mom while they eat some vegetables and dip.

  “You doing okay?” her mom asks.

  “Totally,” Leo says, then goes upstairs and puts her hands on the cold bathroom countertop and breathes. It’s been a year and the grief still comes in waves, pulling the memory of Nina closer and then further away. Leo thought she’d be better at navigating these waters by now.

  When she looks up at the bathroom mirror, it’s Nina’s face that she sees. She waits until she sees herself again before going back downstairs.

  It’s almost dark once the majority of their guests leave. Madison gives her a big hug before she goes, and Leo lets her friend hang on for as long as she wants. “I’ll text you tomorrow,” she says into Leo’s shoulder. “Get ready for an emoji explosion.”

  Leo hugs her back just as tight. “Always ready,” she replies.

  By the time the sun has set, it’s just East and his dad and some neighbors left in their yard. Stephanie and her dad have left to get the baby back home, and Leo presses a kiss to the peach fuzz on the baby’s head when they go. “See you soon, raccoon,” she whispers.

  The baby burps in response.

  East’s dad is talking to Leo’s mom and just beyond their fence, Leo can see East sitting on a bench out on the greenbelt, his body a shadow against the purple sky. She finds her shoes, takes a deep breath, and slips out of the gate.

  “Oh, hey, Eleonora,” he says.

  “Hi, Easton,” she shoots back.

  “Hey, at least mine’s just my mom’s maiden name,” he replies, but his voice sounds thick as Leo sits down next to him. She remembers the last time they were in her backyard together. She wonders if East remembers that evening, too.

  They sit in silence for a while before Leo finally takes the plunge. “So, did you look into those classes at Coast Community?”

  “Oh, yeah, yeah,” East says and Leo suspects that he’s as grateful as she is for the normal conversation, to be able to think about something else other than Nina and that night for a moment. “I signed up online and I start in two weeks. English Composition, Spanish, trig, and then Photography 201.” He ducks his head down as he adds, “They let me into the advanced class.”

  “That’s so cool,” Leo says. “I’m really glad you’re doing that. And I bet your dad is, too.”

  “Nobody’s happier than my dad about this,” East says with a small smile, but the light dies between them as they come back to the reason for the memorial, for the day.

  East’s fingers find Leo’s and threads them together. “I keep thinking about what we were doing exactly this time last year,” he says after a while. “Just, like, how possible everything felt, you know? We were so happy that night. I think that’s what I keep remembering, how happy I felt.”

  He turns to look at Leo. “Remember?”

  Leo’s eyes fill with tears. They both know the answer to that question, that she doesn’t remember everything, not like East does. There is a hole in what she can see of that night, a space surrounded by shattered glass, the sound of a cry, her hair in her face as the wind blew wildly around her.

  She holds East’s hand and thinks about how sometimes things are gone, just like that, even as their absence still takes up space in your heart, their place carved out forever, reminding you of what has been and what will never be again.

  “Hey,” East says then, and when she looks up at him, he gives her a gentle grin and squeezes her hand tight.

  Nina had been right, Leo thinks, about his smile.

  After everyone has left and the food is packed up and put away and the flowers are wilting in their vases a bit, Leo goes into her bedroom to get something, then heads back downstairs to find her mom.

  “Hey, there,” her mom says when she sees her, slipping off her reading glasses and sitting up at the kitchen table. “How are you doing? Are you and East good?”

  “We’re good,” she replies. “Can I talk to you about something, though?”

  “Of course, sweetie. What’s up?”

  Leo reaches into her pocket and pulls out Nina’s missing phone, then sets it down on the table in front of them. “Why are you giving me your—wait. Is this Nina’s phone?”

  Leo sits down at the table next to her. “I’m sorry I lied about not knowing where it was. I just wanted to have a part of her all to myself for a while. But Nina’s not mine to keep, you know?” Leo rubs at her eyes. She’s so, so tired. “You can have it if you want it. Or wipe it, cancel it, whatever.”

  Her mom is gently tracing the pattern of Nina’s phone case, her expression soft as she moves her finger over the pink swirls and gold stars. “It’s like I just saw this five minutes ago,” she says, then moves her chair back from the table and reaches out to Leo. “C’mon, come sit with me.”

  Leo crawls into her mom’s lap, letting her wrap Leo up in a one-armed hug as she settles herself. “I’m happy you’re here, kid,” her mom murmurs after a minute. “You know that, right?”

  “Yes,” Leo whispers because her throat is suddenly tight and aching. “I always knew that.”

  “Okay, good.” Her mom presses a kiss to the side of her head, then picks up Nina’s phone.

  “I haven’t looked at it in a while,” Leo admits. “And I never went through her photos. I couldn’t . . .”