Chapter Fifteen October 7
Chapter Fifteen
“Lennon?” Mom’s voice calls from my bedroom doorway. I turn from my desk, where I’m writing in my journal, to find her with wet, dull eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
She sits down on my bed, and I join her there. Mom takes my hand and holds it in hers.
“Did I interrupt your homework?” she asks.
“No. I was just writing. For fun. What’s wrong?” I ask again.
“I can’t seem to ever get it right with your sister,” she says, her voice low.
“Did you fight again?”
Before Paulie was born, the tension between Georgie and my father was so thick around here that it was hard to breathe some days.
But since Paulie’s birth it’s been mostly Mom and Georgie who have been butting heads.
Mom tries to help, but I think Georgie just sees it as her not trusting my sister’s motherly instincts.
She lectures her about dressing Paulie warmly, especially around her tummy.
And not letting her sleep too long because she needs to eat.
She guilts Georgie whenever she asks Mom and Dad to babysit so she can see her friends.
I think they expected Georgie would turn into a full-grown adult the moment she became a mom, but that transition hasn’t fully happened.
She’s still a teenager. She wants to do the things her friends do. Hang out. Be free. Stay up late.
Mom nods. “I just keep thinking, if I’d done something differently, Georgie would have made better choices.”
My eyes flick to the open door.
“Don’t worry. She’s out with Paulie and Daddy.”
“You can’t think that way. Besides, it’s not like anyone hands out an instruction manual on how to be a good parent. And even if they did, you were so busy keeping us clean and fed that you wouldn’t have had time to read it.”
“There’s a difference between small mistakes and big ones.”
“Are you calling Paulie a mistake?” I ask, my eyebrows raised at the thought. This household is obsessed with that baby.
“It’s not so simple. Of course we love Paulina. But I’m worried about your sister. I never got to go to school or work. And when I had you girls, I gave everything of myself to make sure you would have all that you needed to build a life even better than mine.”
“Did you marry Dad because your parents wanted you to, or because you loved him?” I ask.
“Because I loved him.”
“And how many suitors did Teta and Sedo bring to your home before and after you met Dad?”
“Too many,” Mom says with a laugh.
“Did you ever feel pressured to choose someone else? Someone who lived in Palestine? Do you ever regret leaving?”
“No.” She shakes her head, seemingly answering all of my questions at once. “I don’t regret. But I do grieve the loss of my old life. Maybe I should have gone to school when I first got here or found a job. If I had set a better example, for both of you…”
“You have four sisters. And are you and your sisters the same or different?”
“Very, very different.”
“And I’m very different from Georgie. It’s not because of anything you did or didn’t do.
You made our home beautiful. And the consistency you provided, being there to manage my meltdowns and tantrums, hugging me tight after another terrible day of elementary school, helping me get diagnosed when Dad resisted, it saved my life. ”
Mom’s eyes fall to her lap, and she grabs both my hands and squeezes them.
“I don’t think you’re giving Georgie enough credit,” I say, straightening. “She’s going to do big things. Just give her time. God wanted Paulie to come into the world when she did, we have to believe that, and so we also have to trust in Him to guide us to our destinies.”
“My girl. So smart. So wise. So beautiful.”
“Meh. Two out of three isn’t bad,” I say around a smile.
The silence that follows is thick. Heavy. Broken only by my phone vibrating on my lap.
“Andie?” Mom asks.
“Yeah.” Unfortunate that I have to follow up such a nice mother-daughter moment with a lie.
“I still think she’s a bit loud and silly, but she’s been good for you. I’m happy you have her.”
“Me too.”
“Okay,” Mom says, wiping under her eyes and sniffling. “I’m going to prepare dinner. They’ll be back soon. Do you have any plans tonight?”
I glance at my phone, where a message from John is waiting.
“Andie’s house. After dinner, if that’s okay?” I ask.
“Sure.” Mom nods. “I’ll take you.”
Mom leans over to kiss me on the cheek. I watch as she rises and walks out of my room, closing the door behind her.
After releasing a breath, I flip my phone over.
John: Are we still good to meet at Andie’s at 7?
I bite on my lip, trying to do the math in my brain.
Me: Make it closer to 7:20. Please.
John: Okay. See you then.
Me: can’t wait!
“I think this is the first time you’ve ever been in my car at night,” John says a few minutes into our drive.
It’s funny how he’s just coming to that conclusion when it was the first thought I had climbing into his car at Andie’s.
I invited Andie to join me and John, but she’s recently started seeing a new guy and he’s coming over once her parents go out.
At the light, he reaches over and takes my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. His smile never fails to make my heart race.
A horn sounds behind us breaking the silence.
“Oops,” John says, releasing my hand and driving. “I thought we could go for a walk on Main Street.”
“Sounds good.”
We turn in to a gravel-filled parking lot and John parks. He shifts in his seat. “Wait,” he says, before I pull on the door lever.
We’ve been keeping things casual for about a month. Which means a lot of kissing but, also, a lot of talking. He still keeps parts of himself guarded, and I’m trying to be patient, but it’s hard. Especially when you want to know everything about a person.
“What is it?” I ask.
He brings his hand up and cups it around my face. Our eyes meet, and before I can say anything his lips are on mine. It never gets old. I’ve kissed John so many times now that I’ve lost count, and yet the thrill of the moment before his mouth reaches mine cannot be beat.
“Sorry. Just wanted to do that before we go out there,” he says.
John understands that if we’re out in public I can’t hold his hand or kiss him. I have to always be aware of my surroundings. Even though there’s nothing I’d love more than to hold his hand in front of the entire world.
“It’s okay,” I say, not bothering to hide my grin.
He gets out first, then opens my door. We walk out of the lot and to the sidewalk.
It’s a Saturday night and there are lots of people out.
The patios are still open and bustling. John offers to buy me ice cream, but I settle on a Diet Coke instead, extra ice.
Our arms brush as we walk, and I want to toss out all of our rules, but I know the second I do I’ll get busted.
“Theo told me your moms are becoming good friends,” John says, stealing a glance.
“Yeah.” I nod. “It’s good for my mom. She needs someone who will get her out of the house once in a while. Most of her friendships kind of fell by the wayside after Paulie was born.”
“It’s good for Theo’s mom, too. He says people were there for them a lot in the beginning, but after a while they stopped calling and visiting.”
“People are weird when it comes to death. Or maybe that’s just my community. What are your parents like?” I ask. The question tumbles out. I regret it almost immediately, but John seems unfazed.
“My dad’s in construction. Eaves and gutters. Mom stays home, because of Mikey. But before that she was a daycare teacher.”
“And Valerie?” I ask. I’ve only ever seen John’s sister in passing. She graduated last year. I don’t think she and Georgie were friends, or even acquaintances.
“Typical firstborn daughter. Straight-A student. Got a scholarship to the University of British Columbia.”
“Do you miss her?”
John nods. “She was a big help around the house, and with Mikey.”
“Is he a lot of work?” I smile at the thought of a little John running around his house, annoying him, interrupting our texts. Asking John to play.
“Oh yeah. But he’s in school now so he’s starting to mellow out?” He says it like a question and we both laugh.
“You don’t like to talk about your family, do you?” I ask, trying to meet John’s eyes. Hard not to take note of all his short, almost rehearsed responses.
He shrugs at my question. “We’re just not all that interesting.”
“Right. Your sister didn’t have a baby last year,” I say, deadpan.
“We’re your typical working-class family. Doing the best we can. Val’s scholarship was one of the biggest wins we’ve had in a while.”
There’s a heaviness surrounding his words. But why?
“Every family has their load. No one goes through life unscathed. Even before Georgie got pregnant, we had our challenges.”
“Like what?” John asks.
“My dad is really strict, and he butts heads with Georgie constantly, has for as long as I can remember, really. He also has a hard time talking about certain things. He lost both parents and his only brother when he was still young, but he never speaks of them. My mom, I think she regrets not doing more with her life. And on top of everything with Georgie, having an autistic daughter has also been hard for them,” I say, looking at the ground as we continue walking.
“I have a hard time believing your parents are anything but proud of you.”
“I try,” I say. Sometimes I feel like that’s all I ever do. “And thank you.”
I raise my eyes to John’s but stumble to a stop.
“Hadid. Brody,” a familiar voice cuts in.
Theo. And some girl I don’t recognize.
“Hey, what’s up?” John asks, bringing his hand to Theo’s for an aggressive handshake/side hug.
“This is Cassie,” Theo says, pointing to the pretty brunette next to him. “Cassie, this is my friend John and his friend Lennon.”
“John and Lennon. That’s so cute,” she says with a wide and toothy smile.
“It’s sickening,” Theo says. “You guys want to hang out?”
John hesitates.
“I actually have to get back to Andie’s,” I say, reading the situation correctly…I think.
“Right.” Theo smiles, then nods. “Because your parents don’t know you’re out with John.”
“Theo,” John says.
“It’s all good. Cassie and I were going to a movie anyway. I’ll talk to you both later,” Theo says.
“Bye! Nice meeting you,” Cassie says, trailing behind Theo, who is already steps ahead of her.
“He still likes you,” John says after Theo has walked away.
“I don’t think he ever liked me,” I retort. “Seriously. He made my life hell when we were in Sunday school.”
“What did he do?”
“Just said stupid stuff about how I looked or acted. The autism mask wasn’t so strong back then. I was awkward and weird, which made me an easy target.”
John shakes his head as people walk around us on the sidewalk. “I wish you didn’t have to mask.”
“We all do, to some degree,” I answer. “It’s easier now because I have an outlet. People I can be myself around. Andie. You,” I say, stepping closer to him.
“I really like you,” John blurts, and my heart almost stops.
“Yeah.” I look down, smiling. “Me too.”
John lowers his head and takes a sip of my drink, eyes on me. “This tastes disgusting.”
“And apparently it’s terrible for me.”
“Just because someone says something isn’t good for you, that doesn’t make it the truth.”
I reach for John’s hand and, without hesitation, his fingers twine with mine. He nods and we continue walking, holding hands and talking.
Sometimes the fear of the risk can’t compete with the high.
Before getting into his car, John kisses me goodnight under a full moon. I wish I could freeze time. It’s too good. My life is never this good. I’m scared of losing him. This moment. This version of myself. Us. Everything.