Chapter 44 2012
I was so nervous my leg wouldn’t stop jiggling.
“It will be fine,” Profe said for the third time.
It would not be fine. I didn’t know Kai. Not really. Our relationship was based on a love of audiobooks and a consistent stream of funny memes and texts. The weekend was going to be a disaster. What would we do? What would we talk about?
Even when we were at Gaines, we didn’t really talk. We hung out in the library, and I helped him with his homework. We played silly games at the lunch table. It was a friendship forged out of necessity.
“I think that’s him,” Profe said, straightening and nodding through the windshield.
“Dang,” I said as I watched a very tall guy with tight-cropped hair walk toward us from the Greyhound bus, an army duffel slung over his shoulder.
Profe got out of the car and held out his hand. Kai shook it, and there it was, the smile—higher on the left and his jaw misaligned so he looked a little like Shrek.
I stepped up shyly, and he dropped the duffel to the ground and spread his arms wide at an angle. I laughed before doing the same. And we executed our Goofy-Mickey handshake flawlessly, much to the delight of everyone around us.
“You’re so tall,” I said. He was at least six four.
“And you’re still so short.” He patted me on the head like a puppy.
Kai and Patch. Patch and Kai. Like peanut butter and jelly and Freak the Mighty. We worked.
The weekend was splendiferous, as Profe declared several times.
We fished. We hiked. We talked about books. And we laughed and laughed and laughed.
He told me about his exploits, of which there were many, and about the girls he’d dated, including, to my shock, Heddy. “A fling of convenience,” he said. “We were both home last year for spring break, and as you know, there’s not much to do in Moosewood.” He gave an impish grin.
I felt a pierce of jealousy. Not because Heddy dated Kai, who I’d never date. Kai was squarely in the like-a-brother category and far too much of a rogue when it came to girls. But because Heddy was beautiful and dateable, and I was not.
Our three days together flew by, and when it was time to say goodbye, I was terribly sad.
Outside the bus terminal, he gave a military salute and said, “Sayonara, sister.”
I flung my arms around him, and again he patted me on the head like a puppy. Then he sauntered off with his duffel. And as I watched him go, I knew, the next time I saw him, the shadow of a boy that remained would be gone, and he’d fully be a man.
Instantly I missed him, and his visit made me realize how lonely I’d been. I was used to being at the institute, surrounded by lots of people. I loved Profe, but the isolation of it being just the two of us was getting to me.
I walked into the house, intent on talking to Mother about letting me attend public school. If skating wasn’t my future, I needed to make another sort of life. I would join the track team. Maybe I would work on the school newspaper. Eventually I’d go to college and get a degree and then a job.
I was surprised to find the lights on and the curtains open. Profe and I looked at each other curiously.
Through the archway to the living room, I could see Mother on the couch. She was dressed and sipping a cup of tea. She said something, and I realized she wasn’t alone.
I took another step and froze. Sitting across from her, a matching teacup in her hand, was Meryl.
“Coach?” I said, not believing my eyes.
Meryl stood, and tears sprung to my eyes.
“Patch,” she said coolly, and I knew by her tone she was angry.
“Patch?” Mother said, and I realized she’d never heard me called by that name. A look of revulsion crossed her face as she realized the reason for the nickname.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Meryl.
“I thought perhaps if I spoke to your mother personally, she might reconsider allowing you to return to the institute.”
My throat swelled with emotion, unable to believe she’d flown all that way to do such a thing.
“Hello, Meryl,” Profe said, extending his hand.
Meryl took it in both of hers. “Andres,” she said, shaking it warmly.
Mother sat rigid, her lips pinched. She set her teacup down noisily and said, “As I’ve explained, while I appreciate Ms. Fairbanks’s visit and the institute’s interest in Vivien”—she overemphasized the name—“she will not be going back.”
Red-hot anger surged through me, and I opened my mouth to say something I’m certain I would have regretted, but Profe set a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “Miranda,” he said, “may I have a word with you? In private?”
I watched Mother blanch, then defiantly shake her head like a child. “No. My mind’s made up.”
The wind went out of me, certain that was the end of it, but Profe surprised me.
“Perhaps you should ask Vivien what she wants,” he persisted.
Mother’s eyes narrowed, and my heart pounded. There was a reason Profe never stood up to Mother. His livelihood and security to remain in the country depended on staying in her good graces.
His tired, dark eyes held hers, not so much challenging her as resigned to whatever came next, a silent standoff until I blurted, “I want to go back. Please.”
Mother’s eyes broke from Profe’s to look at me.
“I skate,” I said. “It’s what I do. It’s who I am and the only thing I care about.” I regretted the final words as soon as they left my mouth and I saw the hurt they caused on Mother’s face. “Please,” I said quietly, dropping my eyes to the carpet.
For a long minute, she said nothing, while the three of us stood silent, a united holding of breath as we waited for the decree that would ultimately determine my future.
“I won’t pay for it,” she said finally. “Not one dime.” She glanced at Meryl, who gave a succinct nod, and I realized some sort of offer had been made before I’d come into the room.
Mother turned to me. “If you do this . . . if you leave me . . . that’s it. You’re on your own.”
Meryl tensed, anger pulsing off her. Profe’s reaction was the opposite.
The air seemed to go out of him, and I watched as his head dropped and his shoulders slumped.
It was clear, even up to that moment, he’d hoped Mother would realize the opportunity she had for a different sort of relationship with me.
“I understand,” I said. “I promise. I won’t ever ask you for anything again.”