35. 35 Mae
35: Mae
I can’t spend another second sifting through sites looking for apartments to rent in Florida. There are so many nice ones. They all look amazing, but I keep finding something to fault them on, even when I know that the bathroom layout or the fact that it’s close to a busy road wouldn’t be a deciding factor for me.
It’s because I don’t want to settle on one. Because the thought of Florida terrifies me. But I have to do this.
I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll disappoint Nathan if I allow this opportunity to slip through my fingertips. One of the reasons he quit football was so he could come with me.
The sound of the front door opening and closing sends a chill down my spine. I can tell by the silence that my mom’s back after spending the past five nights with a friend, because finding out about Nathan and me was a total shock for her. I haven’t seen her since the evening he kissed me on that field in front of everybody.
Instead of ignoring me like she usually does when she gets home, she heads into the plain living room and sits on the armchair opposite me. Bracing her hands on her knees, she takes a deep breath. “Mae.”
My lips flatten. “Mom.” I’ve prepared a speech, but now that I’m in the situation, all memory of it is gone.
I did the exact thing my mom didn’t want me to do.
“Sophia’s out.”
My head jerks at her statement, and I blink, wondering if I’ve entered an alternate universe where my mom is actually on my side. “What?”
Frustration flashes in her irises, but she sighs and covers it quickly. “I said Sophia is out. She’s gone from the team. She helped threaten you, Mae. That’s not something I take lightly.”
My mom’s waiting for me to respond, but it feels like there’s no air left in the room. I’m greedily breathing it in, my lungs desperate for more.
“Mae… I’m trying to talk to you here. I’m trying to…. do something good.”
I immediately nod. “Yes, um, okay. So, you cut Sophia from the team?”
“I did. She came to me. Admitted everything. Not that she had much choice. Kevin Slater was this close,” she pinches her finger and thumb together until there are only a few centimetres between them, “to ratting her out since he didn’t get what he wanted. He wanted someone to go down the drain, at least.”
“Did she tell you why?”
My mother drops her gaze. Her usually glossy hair looks dull. And her face is pale and lifeless. “She watched the routines where you performed in her spot while she was on her honeymoon. She was worried you’d take her place. Because you were good, Mae. You were a good addition to the team.”
My face is blank. My mind reels, trying to process the words that just left my mom’s mouth. This is the woman who, more often than not, makes me feel like everything I do is wrong. The one that hurts me just for fun. Who points out my flaws whenever she gets a chance.
I half expect to see that usual judgemental look in her eyes, but there’s—what looks to be—shame. It shocks me.
“Sophia’s action hit a nerve, I suppose. Jealousy makes people do ugly things. Say ugly things.” She inhales deeply. “I was always jealous of you and your… father’s relationship. I was jealous I couldn’t be as happy-go-lucky as him. As parental as him. As easy to talk to.” Regret masks her famous grouchy expression.
I don’t know what to say. I’ve thought about this day more times than I can count—the day my mother would explain things to me. And now that it’s happening, here I am, lost for words.
“Nathan came to me one day and demanded I treat you better. I didn’t know how much he actually cared for you at the time, but he told me about his own mother. How she’s not around. I–I don’t know what I thought, really. Just that everyone around could see what an awful mother I was. How life isn’t guaranteed. How I was so deep in, that I felt like I could never change what I had done to us. I felt like we were too far gone. After what Sophia did, I was mad at her, and then I realised I had no right to be mad because I’ve treated you just the same over the years.” Her bony fingers twitch. “I’m sorry, Mae. Jealousy made me ugly.”
I sigh. “We could have been there for each other through Dad’s disappearance. We should have.”
“I know…” She gulps. “When you called me saying you couldn’t pay your rent back in Colorado anymore, I wanted to help you. But I suppose I wouldn’t allow myself to do a good deed just for the sake of it. I needed something from you, so it’s why I offered you a spot on the team. I had plenty of girls I could have called, but making you join the team made me feel less… weird, I guess, about doing something for you.”
My mother’s explanation goes right through me. After years of being the recipient of words and actions that felt like daggers to my heart, she’s finally sitting here in front of me, trying. She’s putting her pride aside to tell me the truth. To tell me where it all went wrong.
I want to open up to her about the pain she put me through, but looking in her eyes now, all glassy and dead, I’m adamant she already knows. She feels it.
The knife she’s hurt me with is still in my back, but I think it’s cut her, too.
“Thank you for sticking up for me,” I tell her, my lips tilting into a smile.
“I don’t expect ever to be as close to you as your father was, but I think enough is enough… you don’t deserve to be treated like this. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
I don’t know if I should get up and hug her, but that feels a little far for us right now. We aren’t there yet, but we’ve just taken our first baby step.
And baby steps feel a whole lot more appropriate than breaking out into a full-blown sprint.
I bounce into the Missarali City Animal Shelter with a spring in my step. I haven’t seen my scruffy little boy for a week now, and I’ve missed him like crazy.
“Hey, Sheila!” I call as I head past reception, straight down the corridor towards the kennels.
“Oh, Mae! There’s something I need to speak to you about. Well, two things, actually.” She rushes after me, but I’m already frozen in place, my hands shaking as I glance at the kennel before me.
The empty kennel.
The empty kennel that has an adopted sign taped to the front.
“He… he’s gone?” Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away.
This is what I wanted for him. He deserved to go to a good home with people who will love him so hard it hurts. He deserves a family.
For a little while, he was starting to feel like mine, though. Like my little Radish.
Sheila dips her chin to her chest as she catches up to me. “Um, yes, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Well, that, and the fact that we have a job opportunity that you might be interested in. Or you might not be, but I wanted to give you the option to take a look anyway.” She gestures to a bulletin board where a few posters are pinned up.
I step towards it and unpin the one she’s pointing to.
Veterinary nurse opportunity available.
Speak to a member of staff for more details.
I sigh. “Thank you, Sheila, but I’m not qualified.”
She nods, grinning. “We’ve recently joined the Veterinary Training Academy. Mallory and Tonya, our vets, have completed their courses, which means they’re qualified to teach on the job. I can’t guarantee the pay will be great, but it’ll be enough. You wouldn’t need any qualifications to start. Just a really good resume.” Sheila winks at me before she releases a small sigh. “I just wanted to let you know. You’re so good with the animals, and it really would be a shame to lose you, Mae.”
I clutch the poster tighter in my flexed fingers, my entire body going cold as I resist the urge to smother Sheila in an inappropriate bear hug.
“And when it comes to Radish—” She’s interrupted by the sound of someone walking into the shelter reception, the dogs releasing loud, bellowing barks. “I’m so sorry. It’s been manic here today.”
I take one last longing look at Radish’s empty kennel, my stomach sinking, and follow Sheila to reception. A man is waiting, and I push aside my need to ask him if he’s the man who adopted Radish.
I feel protective over that dog.
Sheila sees to him, but then the telephone rings and her computer pings, causing her to grunt.
My teeth worry my bottom lip. “I’ll come back later, Sheila. You seem really busy.”
Her mouth turns downward. “Are you sure? I can—”
Another person walks in, and I shake my head at her, mouthing don’t worry before exiting.
Rain is trickling down from the sky, and I gaze up at the ominous grey clouds and sigh. I call Nathan to let him know I’m done early—since he agreed to pick me up—and I let my thoughts wander.
Radish is out there somewhere. It feels similar to the situation with my father, where I’m left wondering if our paths will cross again. I’m not sure I can handle missing someone else.
Is he looking up at someone else with those big, doe-like brown eyes? Tail swishing as he receives a little head scratch? What kind of food are they giving him? Are they taking him for long enough walks? Is he happy? A lot of people don’t know that dogs can suffer from depression, too. What if they have a swimming pool, and he falls in when they’re not looking and drowns?
A horn blaring pulls me from my worries. Nathan’s looking at me through the rain-spattered windshield of his car, eyes asking me what’s wrong.
My heart skips a beat, suddenly realising how bittersweet this situation is.
I have an opportunity to work here in Missarali—a place I now see as home. But Radish won’t be around, which feels like a kick in the teeth. That, and I don’t know how I’m going to admit to Nathan that I don’t want to go to Florida. Because now that I have the choice, I know what I’d rather do. I know what feels right. I know that moving states isn’t what my heart wants. It’s not what it needs.
But it’s not all about me.
“What happened?” Nathan asks when I slip into the car.
“How do you know something has happened?”
He gives me an I know you look, and his gaze flits down to the poster in my hand, trying to read the black printed words that are now streaky from the precipitation.
“Radish,” I say, swallowing my tears. “I’m supposed to be professional, but that dog. He stole my heart. I loved him like my own. He was… adopted..” I take a deep breath. “I’m happy for him, and I’m happy for his new owners because they’ve got such an incredible dog, but just the thought of never seeing him again. The thought of him not being called Radish anymore. That hurts. What if they pick some boring, generic name that doesn’t suit him at all?”
Nathan nods as I talk, his stubble a little longer due to a lack of shaving. He looks damn good with it, but it only almost distracts me. “Who says he won’t be called Radish anymore?”
I shake my head in confusion. “The new adopters aren’t required to keep the name.”
“I see.” He reaches into a bag by his feet and pulls out something jangly, placing it in my hands. “I had this made. What do you think?”
My eyes are round as I gaze down at the turquoise collar on my thighs. The fabric is delicately woven and intricate. Flipping the metal pendant hanging from it, I see the name Radish engraved on it.
“It’s nice, right?”
Tears well in my eyes. “What… what is—”
“You can come out now, boy.”
At Nathan’s command, Radish leaps out from behind his seat in the back, attacking me with kisses so slobbery I feel like I’ve just showered. My heart rattles inside my chest, and a laugh bursts from my throat as I cradle the dog in my lap and cry with relief.
“You? You adopted him?” I ask, tears dripping down my cheeks.
“Yep.”
“What about Florida? I mean, I know you can transport dogs, but—”
“We’re not going to Florida, princess.” Nathan’s tone is challenging, and he cocks his head as he cups my cheeks. “I know you. And you’re not happy about going. If moving doesn’t feel right, don’t force yourself. We can work this out together, but I see the doubt in your eyes whenever I talk about going. You love Missarali.”
Relief spills out of my eyes. It’s like a giant weight has been lifted from my chest, and I can finally breathe again. The constant tension in my shoulders, the ache in my jaw— poof —gone. My skin is no longer crawling with anxiety.
“I don’t want to go to Florida, Nathan.”
He shakes his head. “I know you don’t, baby. We’ll create a life wherever works for both of us. Wherever you can accomplish your dreams while feeling at home. And if Florida isn’t that, then we can find somewhere else.”
I wipe at my eyes and lean forward to kiss him, gaining a grunt from Radish, who is frustrated that the attention isn’t entirely on him. “I felt too guilty to bring it up. You quit football.”
“Because I wanted to. Because it didn’t feel like home anymore. But you, Mae Bexley, do. I belong wherever you are.” He kisses the top of my head. “You can find another program. One that feels right.”
My eyes flicker down to the soggy poster in my lap, now peppered with holes from Radish’s claws. I laugh, my mind oddly still. Calm.
“I have one in mind.”