Chapter 26 Dane
Dane
Even now, almost a decade after Lori broke the news to me, I still hear her voice clear as day in my head.
“Do you remember Mommy’s work-friend, Martin? You met him not too long ago.”
I know her words by heart, like I was branded with them that day—the last time I ever saw her.
“Martin got a new job up in Sacramento, and Mommy is going to be moving there with him.” She kept referring to herself as Mommy, as if that would make anything better.
“Martin’s a nerd!” I told her. “I don’t like him!” He wore ugly clothes, told stupid jokes, smelled like green beans, and he didn’t know anything about soccer or any other sport. He’d even tried to pull a coin out of my ear, so I socked him in the shoulder.
“Well, that’s okay, honey. Thalia is going to come up with me and Martin, and you’re going to stay down here with your dad.”
“When are you coming back?”
There were tears in Lori’s eyes, making the entire conversation unbearable. It was hard enough for me to sit still through any sort of serious discussion, but I couldn’t stand seeing Lori cry. It made me antsy and angry, but I didn’t know why.
“I’m not coming back,” she said, looking away from me.
Artie was standing in the doorway, watching like he always did, with his feet apart, arms folded, and his brows half-lowered. He wasn’t watching me, only Lori. Never took his eyes off her.
“When are you gonna get me?” I asked, hoping it would be before the end of summer.
I didn’t like my school, and I would have been happy to never go back.
It was some snooty private school Artie forced me into.
The other kids were mean, and the teachers were even meaner.
My pre-algebra teacher took a ruler to my backside so hard I had to eat my lunch standing up.
I’d already tried getting expelled, but every time the principal got fed up, Artie’s assistant would fork over another check, and I was back at school the next day.
“I won’t be able to get you,” Lori said.
“Who’s gonna get me then? Not Martin.”
“No one.” She tucked her thumb into her sweater sleeve and swiped under her nose. “You’re going to stay here with your dad.”
The more confused I was, the angrier I became.
I already knew Artie and Lori were divorcing.
It was pretty damn obvious, but I figured I’d go wherever Lori went.
When other kids’ parents divorced, it was the mom who took them, because the dad was always at work anyway.
Artie was always at work. Even when he was home, he was working.
I hated Artie. He was even meaner than my pre-algebra teacher.
Barely a month before, he’d thrown all my boy-dolls away for making them be naked together, then he forced me to watch disgusting videos that made me sick to my stomach.
Maybe one reason I’m so gay is that I can’t picture a naked woman without remembering Artie’s hand gripping the back of my neck and his liquor-breath seething, “that’s what real men like. ”
“For how long?” I was on the edge of my seat, body swelling with rage. I remember Artie lurching forward and slapping the back of my head while my fingernails clawed at his precious loveseat.
“Don’t touch him!” Lori shouted, scooting to the edge of her own chair and swatting at Artie’s arm.
“You have two minutes,” Artie told her.
“Dane,” Lori begged, clutching my knees. “It’s going to be okay. You just need to be a good boy, and everything will be okay. Dane, look at me.”
But I couldn’t. Even if I could focus enough to crank my head in the right direction, all my eyes saw was the color red—red for the blood making my heart race dangerously fast. The quick pulses wound up my limbs until the next time Lori spoke my name, I jolted forward and shoved her hard enough that her back hit the cushions.
“You can’t leave me!” I hollered, standing over her with my fists balled up so tight my nails pierced my palms.
“Dane—” There was fear in her voice when I jumped on her, tossing my arms around her and holding on for dear life. Her hair was soft against my face and smelled like Mom. But as soon as her arms held me back, Artie’s long, spiny fingers snatched at me and tugged me back.
“Your mother is leaving,” he told me, firm and menacing. “She’s not coming back. Say goodbye.”
“NO!” I shrieked, my pubescent voice cracking.
“You’re hurting him!” Lori said, but the only pain I felt in Artie’s hold was an overwhelming ache in my chest and a ringing in my ears.
The world was ending, and I didn’t know what to do to stop it except to fight against it. I fought against Artie as best I could, thrashing this way and that while butting my head back against his chest.
“Look at what you’re doing, Dane,” Artie growled so close to my ear that his mouth grazed my skin. “You’re scaring your mother. This is why she can’t bring you with her. She’s afraid of you.”
“NO!” I threw an elbow back, striking Artie’s gut, and I broke from his hold like a jet engine, racing through the house and tearing Lori’s purse from the hutch in the foyer. She never went anywhere without the thing, so she’d have to take me with her if I had her purse.
Better yet, she wouldn’t be able to leave at all if she didn’t have her car. With her purse, I had her keys, and with her keys, I could make the car go bye-bye. Then she would have to stay. She would have to.
I’d never driven before, but it couldn’t be that hard.
I was already taller than Lori, so when I dropped into the driver’s seat, my feet reached the pedals just fine.
I’d watched her start the car enough times to get it right on the first go.
All I had to do was figure out which gear would make the car reverse out of the driveway and onto the street.
“DANE!” Lori’s voice screamed when she appeared on the front porch, expression screwed up in a panic that transferred right into me.
Everything that happened after is a blur now.
Me finally getting the car to move while Lori ran toward it.
A crash, a wail, Artie's hand around my arm and his other around my neck, yanking me from the car then throwing me to the driveway. Maybe that’s where I got the scar on my forehead.
Not from the steering wheel, but from the cold, hard pavement.
Every time I look at myself in the mirror, I see that scar. Every time I see that scar, I remember Lori. Mom. For years, I’ve broken myself out of my memories before they show me that night again, but not today.
As soon as I heard her voice, my mind conjured the image of her sprinting across the front lawn, but instead of calling out my name, she called out Connor’s. My Connor. The boy who holds me now, trying to calm me with words I can’t hear over my droning pain.
She smiled at him, hugged him, said sweet things to him in her sweet voice, and she didn’t notice me at all. Even though I was standing six feet away and over six feet tall, watching her embrace my boyfriend and ask about my sister. She didn’t even…notice.
While Connor murmurs in my ear all the things he thinks I need to hear right now, he can’t ever know for sure what I need, because he wasn’t there. He doesn’t know.
I pull away from him as soon as the memories fade in favor of a plan of action.
Despite Connor’s protests, I leave his side and beeline through this labyrinth with my focus squarely on finding Lori.
I ignore all distractions as I wind my way toward the main exit, head on a swivel and eyes scanning across dozens of faces in search of the right one.
I head toward the checkout, Connor on my heels, when I spot a familiar silhouette leaving out the exit alongside a bald dude pushing a cart in front of him.
“Dane.” Connor slips his hand around my wrist, but I break off before he can lasso me tight.
Determination dries my eyes, but the chilled outdoor air reminds me of how wet my face is.
I swipe the tear residue away with the sleeves of the Sac State sweatshirt Connor lent me, and I stalk the parking lot until I spot Lori loading canvas grocery bags into the bed of an old minivan.
She’s laughing with Martin about something like life is peaches.
I feel Connor’s anxious energy behind me. He follows close but doesn't stop me.
I don’t know what I’m going to do until my body decides for me, halting me in the middle of the lane. I don’t know what I’m going to say either until my lungs blurt out the word.
“Lori.”
The name sounds weird off my tongue. No matter how many times I’ve used it, this is the first time I’ve ever said it to her. Before she left, she was always Mom. Even for a long time after, she was Mom until she wasn’t anymore. Until I accepted that I no longer had a mother.
Reality crashes down on me as soon as she turns around. Curly hair flutters in the breeze while her eyes crinkle under a noon sun. She tucks that hair behind her ear and blinks at me with those eyes.
The loser beside her sticks his hands on his hips and asks, “What can we do for ya, son?”
I take my eyes off Lori long enough to spite him. “I am not your son.”
Lori’s purse slips from her arm, clunking on the asphalt beside her boots. Her eyes soften, and she takes a slow step forward.
“Dane?” My name leaves her lips like a hushed whistle in the wind.
“Hi,” I mutter, for lack of anything better to say.
“Dane…” She takes more cautious steps toward me. “You look…so much like your father.”
All the excess blood my heart pumps makes me dizzy. This was a mistake. I should have stayed in the store. I should have stayed in Connor’s arms where it’s safe. I turn away before Lori reaches me.
“Wait.” A hand grips my arm, weak enough that I could easily break free, but my body seizes up, freezing me in place. “Don’t go,” she says, turning me back around.
The hand not clutching my arm lifts to touch my cheek. I flinch under Lori’s gentle touch, grimacing as my eyes threaten more tears.
“You’re so tall,” she says in the moment before her arms snake around my neck and pull me down to her.
A strangled whimper crawls up my throat as I swing my arms around Lori’s body and lay my leaking eyes on her shoulder.
All the anger, resentment, and hatred expel from my body through my pores as I’m reminded of what it feels like to be held by my mom.
And wouldn’t you know…she still smells the same as I remember.
“I missed you so much,” she murmurs, like she’s crying too.
“I missed you,” I cry.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
“Mommy.” I don’t want to let her go. Not now that I have her. Even when a truck rolls up and lays on the horn, I’d rather stand right here forever, hugging her until the sun goes down then comes back up again.
That lame-ass Lori married speaks her name, and only then does she let me go, slipping from my grasp as Martin pulls her out of the driving lane.
It feels like I’m losing her all over again until she waves me toward her, and I torpedo into her arms with so much force it flattens her against the van.
“Baby,” she calls me, just like how I call Connor. She glides her hands up to my face, lifting it from the crook of her neck. Looking into my eyes, she asks me what I’m doing here. “Does your father know you’re here?”
“Who cares?” I whimper, locking my arms behind her back in case she tries to leave me again.
“How’s Thalia? Are you two getting along?”
“No. What? Who cares? Why do you only care about Thalia? Why didn’t you care about me?
Why didn’t you want me too? Why did you leave me with Artie?
Why did Thalia get to go with you? Why didn’t I ever see you again?
Was I really that awful? Were you really that afraid of me?
The car thing was an accident, I swear. I just didn’t want you to leave without me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know that.” Her slim palms caress the sides of my face, fingertips threading through my hair and grazing across my ears.
“I was never afraid of you, Dane. I wanted to take you with me. I tried really hard, but your father made it too difficult. He was never going to let me take you, but I couldn’t stay either.
Eventually, we decided Thalia would come with me, and you would stay. ”
“But why? Artie hates me. He’s always hated me. Why would he want to keep me?”
“Because he knew how much I loved you, and he knew how much it would hurt me to leave you behind.”
My soul mends with words that comfort me while my head can’t make sense of it. This is the conversation I’ve wanted to have since I was eleven years old, and now I’m struggling just to process that this is real life. That I’m actually here, in front of my mom.
“I wasn’t bad?” I ask through a broken voice that barely sounds like me.
“Bad?”
“A bad kid.”
“No. You weren’t bad. You were just a little boy.”
“I don’t understand.” I sniffle up a drop of snot threatening to slip down to my quivering lip. “Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you call me?”
“Dane…” She looks at me with such sympathy; I hang my head like I ought to be ashamed over something.
Ashamed that I still care so much after all this time.
“I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I left you with him.
It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I think about that decision every single day.
It made me feel weak—like I’d failed you, and like I didn’t deserve to be your mom anymore.
Truth is, I’ve been fearing this moment for years because I didn’t know how I could ever face you again after what I did, knowing I wasn’t strong enough to fight for you like I should have. ”
I see my reflection in the watery sheen in Lori’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m so sorry I left you with him. I love you, baby.”
Seeing Lori cry now is just as icky as when she’d cry way back when, but now I’m old enough to know why the sight always sickened me. It’s because every time she cried, it was because of him.
I tug her against me, hugging her again, and even though I’m over a foot taller than her now, Lori fits against me like it’s meant to be.