Chapter 9 Emotional Minefield
nine
Emotional Minefield
Mom’s face is ghostly pale. The crepe in the pan scorches. Matt is glaring at me. I mouth the word “Sorry,” and go to take care of the neglected pan.
Finally, Mom speaks. “Matthew,” she barely breathes his name. “When?”
I’m not sure if her question is "when is he leaving," "when did he find out," or "when he was planning on telling her?"
Matt walks over to Mom and puts his arms around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mom, I wasn’t sure how to tell you.”
Mom turns and pulls him against her chest. At that moment, Dad walks in, whistling like Matthew had been just a few minutes ago. As soon as Dad looks at Mom and Matt, he stops whistling and looks guilty.
“You.” She points her finger at him. “How long have you known about this?”
“About Matthew and...” he hesitates. “Matthew and Iraq?”
“And Jess?” Mom is going from shocked to mad. “Does everyone know about this but me? Tyler, and Kendra too?”
No one says anything. I dump the scorched crepe and get ready to pour another one.
“Leave it,” Mom orders. “I need to talk to your dad and Matthew. Jessica, go back upstairs.
I obey. I wish I could somehow erase the last few minutes. Mom looks hurt, angry and afraid all at the same time. Dad looks guilty. Matt just looks mad, mad at me.
Half-way up I run into Michael. He’s whistling Jingle Bells, carrying his bag, and taking two steps at a time.
What is it with the whistling this morning? I catch him by the arm. “You don’t want to go down there.”
“I don’t?” Michael stops mid-stride. “Did Matt already eat all the crepes?”
“No. Emotional minefield. Me and my big mouth.” I sink down on the steps and put my face in my hands. Michael sits down beside me.
“What exactly did you do?” he asks.
“I let it slip that Matt is going to Iraq. Apparently, Mom didn’t know about it yet.”
“Oh,” Michael says.
“Stupid, stupid.” I shake my head. “I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning.”
“It’s not entirely your fault.” Michael puts his arm over my shoulder. “When was Matt planning on telling her? When he was on the plane headed to Iraq?”
“It might have been safer for him,” I answer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mom this mad.”
“That would be a new one, a mother killing her son so he couldn’t go to war.”
I turn and give him a look that shows I don’t appreciate his humor.
“It had to come out sooner or later,” Michael tries again.
“Yeah, but I didn’t have to be the one to tell her. Sometimes I just talk without thinking.”
“We all do.” Michael hasn’t moved his arm. “It’s probably better that it came out now. It will give her some time to process the idea. I can’t blame Matt for taking this long, though. I would hate to tell my mom I was going to war. She would completely flip out.”
“You mean like that?” The voices from downstairs get louder.
“Probably exactly like that,” he sighs.
I stand up. “I’m sorry if this is keeping you from leaving. You want me to sneak you out the back door?”
“I can wait a little longer.”
I’m out of things to say. I want to get back to my email, but I can’t exactly leave Michael sitting here, waiting for the voices downstairs to calm down. Not talking is worse; now we can hear exactly what’s going on downstairs.
Michael breaks the silence. “Um, maybe we should go somewhere else.”
“Yeah.” I follow him back into the rec room. It doesn’t look like Michael slept here. He folded the bed back into the couch and stacked the bedding at the end. None of Matthew’s other friends are this neat.
Michael sits down at one end of the couch, and I sit at the other. “I was thinking we should exchange cell numbers, so it will be easier to meet up on New Year’s Eve.”
“Oh yeah. Let me get my phone.” I go into my room to get my phone, glance at my computer with the unopened email, and then head back to the rec room.
It feels weird to program Michael’s number into my phone. Way too permanent for one party as just friends. Another question comes to mind. “Uh, Michael. What exactly is the dress code for this party?”
“The dress code?”
“You know, casual, formal, semi-formal, what?”
“Oh,” he answers seriously. “A dress like what you wore to the prom would be just fine.”
I try to keep my voice even. “Really? That formal?”
His face breaks into a grin. “No, not quite, but you did look incredible in that dress.” I guess Matt really showed him my prom picture.
“Thanks. What then?”
“Hmmm.” Michael looks thoughtful. “I guess you’d say a little more than semi-formal; a skirt or nice pants, maybe a dress, but not too dressy. My mom isn't into bling and nothing too short or too bare. Kind of like what you might wear for Christmas dinner.”
“Oh.” I don’t tell him dressing up for Christmas dinner at our house means a sweater and jeans. I guess it’s different at his house. I’m silent for a while, mentally considering the options that my closet presents. Not many.
Michael breaks into my thoughts. “I’m sure you’ll look great no matter what you wear. Come in a grain sack if you'd like.”
“That’s great. I think there might still be a couple up in the barn loft. Should I wash them or just wear them with a natural coating of dust?”
“Oh, leave the dust on,” Michael says. “It gives it an air of authenticity.”
I’m trying to think of something clever to say to that when my phone rings. It’s Jasmine. The clock reads 9:05. Impressive, Jaz is actually up.
“Sorry. I need to take this.” I walk over to the corner of the room and answer the phone.
“Jess!” Jasmine screams. “Where have you been? We need to get to the store as soon as possible! I have a ton of shopping to do.”
“Come now, if you're ready. I'm looking forward to it." That's a lie. I am looking forward to seeing Jasmine, but the last thing I want to do today is fight crazed last-minute Christmas shoppers.
“Great,” Jasmine says. “I’ll pick you up in half an hour. It will be fun, I promise. I have loads to tell you about school.”
“Last minute Christmas shopping?” Michael says when I hang up. He makes a face. “Have fun. Sorry, I couldn’t help but hear.”
“I know,” I sigh. “Jasmine is my most enthusiastic friend.”
“Cheerleader?” Michael guesses.
“Three years of high school.”
“What about you?”
“No cheerleading—track and cross-country.”
“I should have guessed,” Michael says. “Those long legs.”
I glance at the door. I need to get ready if Jasmine is coming that soon. “I wonder if it’s safe to head down yet.”
Matt answers my question by coming in. He gives me a look that makes me think I’ll hear about my slip later. “You taking off soon, Mike?”
“As soon as I can,” Michael answers.
“Not without breakfast. Mom will be offended if you don’t eat,” Matt says. "And she's already kind of riled up... I guess you probably heard."
“I’d better get ready to go.” I stand. I don’t want to give Matthew the chance to catch me alone.
“Where are you headed?” Matthew asks.
“Shopping, with Jasmine.”
“Good,” Matthew says. “I need you to find something that I can give Kendra for Christmas. Since I already gave her the ring, I’m kind of without a present.”
Now I’m buying Kendra’s Christmas present? I guess I owe him.
Jasmine arrives while I'm still doing my hair. I glance at my computer again and agonize.
Jacob's email will have to wait a little longer.
“Hi, Roberts family,” Jasmine says when she comes to the door. “How is everyone?”
“Jasmine,” Mom gives her a hug. “It’s good to see you. Would you like breakfast?”
“No thanks. We need to get going,” Jasmine says.
“Here are some ideas for something for Kendra." Matthew hands me a piece of paper.
I take it and look at the handwriting, too nice to be his. “Your ideas or Michael’s?”
“A little of both,” he says sheepishly.
“Hello.” Jasmine notices Michael. She's eyeing him as if he’s her next conquest.
I turn and introduce them. “Jasmine, this is Matt’s friend Michael. Michael, this is Jasmine.”
“Nice to meet you, Jasmine,” Michael extends his hand.
“Nice to meet you too,” Jasmine’s voice has a familiar flirtatious ring to it. She doesn't let go of his hand immediately. “How long are you staying?”
“Actually,” Michael shoulders his bag. "I’m leaving right now.”
“Too bad,” Jasmine replies.
“I’d stay longer, but my mom is ready to kill me for not being home already.” He turns to me. “It was nice to see you again, Jess. Call me when you get back to school and we can make plans.”
“Sure.” I ignore the curious look Jasmine is giving me. “I guess I’ll see you in a little over a week.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Michael replies.
I’m afraid of that.