by M. Katherton
I finally caught Mom alone after she put Macy and Spencer to bed. We hadn’t had any conversations since our fight outside of her asking me to help look after my siblings. She seemed skeptical when I summoned her into my room, probably afraid I would bring up my biological father again. When I mentioned Macy, a wave of relief crossed her face.
“I noticed she didn’t talk to Zoey or anyone else in their usual group when I went to her dance rehearsal yesterday. Like when they took a break, she did handstands by herself while all the other girls talked.”
Mom's face crinkled as if this was new information. “Now that you mention it, she hasn’t asked to have Zoey or anyone else from the studio over in a while. I’ll talk to her. Surely if it was something horrific Rebecca Mason would’ve called and made a scene. You know how that woman is about making other people’s kids look bad to make hers look better.”
A few years ago, Mom told me a story about how another girl on Macy’s team had accidentally taken Zoey’s designer tap shoes home and Rebecca went ballistic. She accused the little girl of being a thief and yelled at the mom in the dressing room at competition. The next season, the little girl in question switched to another studio presumably because Rebecca and Zoey had pushed her and her mother to the edge. I hoped my sister wasn't their next victim to push out.
“I don’t know if it’s a big deal. I just thought I should tell you. Macy wouldn’t tell me much but she definitely got uncomfortable at mention of Zoey’s name.”
“Thanks for telling me. I’ll talk to her. It was really sweet of you to go to her dance rehearsal.”
I shrugged, “She asked. I couldn’t turn her down.”
Mom sighed, likely reflecting on the dozens of times she’d turned Macy down because she had other things to take care of. I thought this might be the end of our conversation but she sat down on the edge of my bed and sighed again.
“So I've been doing a lot of thinking the past few days. It was wrong of me to get upset about you being curious about your father. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I accepted despite how much her disapproval hurt.
“It’s not okay. It’s just an emotional topic for me. Still. I just wish I could erase him from my memory but I obviously can’t. Whether I like it or not, he’s your biological father. And I guess I don’t blame you for going to Kathleen. I’ve been really closed off.”
“Sorry that I asked why you had sex with him if he’s such an asshole.”
Despite my sincerity, she chuckled, a complete flip from her reaction to the question last week. “Sometimes I ask myself the same question.”
We sat quietly for a moment. I thought about how I had contacted James and how she would lose her mind again if she ever found out.
“But you know what?” She finally continued. “I’m glad I had sex with that asshole because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have you.”
She was right. She would have her perfect average American family if not for me. There would be no awkward half-sibling and step-parent explanations. She would not have a child that shared DNA with someone she hated. However, instead of telling her all this, I added,
“You wouldn’t have been the outcast in high school either.”
“Oh, Jess.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m glad I had you. Even if that meant being the high school outcast.”
“Thanks for keeping me.”
“Of course.” Mom smiled though the sadness was evident in her brown eyes.
Whenever Mom and I had nice talks like this, it made me reconsider going forward with meeting my dad. She had been the one to keep me, raise me, and love me. However, maybe James wasn’t such a bad guy either. They were so young and I didn’t blame him for not wanting to be a parent at seventeen. Maybe Mom thought he was a bad person but I could not base my opinion of him off hers. I was going to meet James Owenby.
Wednesday, January 30th, 2019
After ten minutes of my finger hovering over the send button, I sent my dad a text asking if he was free to have coffee soon. It was around dinner time and I figured he would be home from work by now. He didn’t respond immediately but I doubted he was as glued to his phone as I was, especially with a newborn baby. I left my phone upstairs when I went down for dinner because though I had saved his contact information under a fake name, I didn't want to risk Mom seeing anything suspicious. When I got back up to my room about half an hour later, I had one unread text from “Jay”.
How about Saturday? Maybe around 2 PM at Starbucks? There’s one at the corner of Stickham and Wolfe Ave.
I responded that that would be great then jumped up and down on my bed like a little kid receiving a twenty-dollar bill from the Tooth Fairy. I was going to meet my dad. I was going to meet my dad. I was going to meet my dad.
“Jess?” Mom interrupted me, surprised to find me in my child-like state. “What are you doing?”
“Oh.” I startled, casually sitting down as if jumping on the bed was usual behavior for me. “I got an A on my math test.”
She looked skeptical but brushed it off as she straightened a framed picture on my nightstand of our family at my middle school graduation a few years back. “I talked to Macy about Zoey. Something’s definitely up.”
“Did you tell her I told you?”
She shook her head no. “I casually asked why she hadn’t hung out with her dance friends in a while and asked if anything was going on. She gave me the typical ‘nothing’ and when I pressed for more information, she told me it didn’t matter and stormed off to her room.”
“Poor kid.”
“I know. Will you help me keep an eye on her? She may not want to talk to her lame old mom about it but maybe she will talk to her cool older sister.”
I shrugged, knowing it would be a challenge with Macy’s unyielding stubbornness. I promised Mom I would try though. As Macy’s older sister, it was my job to protect her. If Zoey or anyone else was hurting her, I needed to figure out how to prevent it. Though I would probably get snapped at in the process, one day she would understand.
Thursday, January 31st, 2019
When Mom asked me to look after my siblings that afternoon, I asked Carol, our across the street neighbor if Spencer could come over and play with her son Jaylan. Jaylan was a grade ahead of Spencer and they often rode bikes together outside whenever the weather was nice. Spencer did not question the spur-of-the-moment Thursday afternoon playdate, more than happy to get to play with Jaylan on a school day, Macy however, knew something was up and probably expected me to dump her off at a friend's house too.
"What's going on? Where's Mom?"
"Mom had to work. Do you want to go get ice cream or something?"
Though she was still suspicious, she asked to go to Sprinkles, a frozen yogurt place that Mom constantly complained about being overpriced and never clean enough. Though Sprinkles was not my first choice either, I sucked it up as I watched Macy fill her cup to the brim with strawberry ice cream. Nine dollars later, we sat down at a slightly sticky table, loud pop music blaring in the background.
“How’s school going?” was my leadoff question after she ate for a few minutes.
“Fine.” She answered, more interested in her ice cream than she was in talking to me.
“Competition season starts soon, doesn’t it?”
She nodded as she stirred her ice cream with a lime green spoon, the one she had chosen out of the dozens of fluorescent colors offered. “This Saturday. Are you coming?”
I had completely forgotten. Though I never made it to every competition, I tried to go to at least one or two a year to support my sister. If I had known the first one was this weekend, I would have scheduled coffee with my dad for a different day. I couldn’t explain to Macy why I couldn’t come. She was too young to understand about how important it was for me to finally meet my biological dad and she might accidentally blab to Mom.
“I’m not sure. I’m supposed to meet somebody that day but maybe I can move it.”
�
�I just don’t want to be there alone if Mommy can’t come.”
Last year, Mom had missed a few competitions because she had to work. Macy went with Zoey’s mom one weekend then came home hysterical that Rebecca had not sewn in her hairbow correctly and it fell out onstage during her solo. She came second to Zoey that day. I did not know if the costume malfunction made any difference, but Macy was convinced it was on purpose. Mom tried to assure her it was just an accident but I don’t think she was entirely convinced it was either.
“You won’t be alone. You’ll be there with all your friends.” I told her, the perfect gateway to the conversation I had brought her here to have.
Macy stared down at her half-eaten cup of ice cream, clearly ashamed.
“May, what’s going on? What’s up with you and your dance friends?”
“Zoey turned everyone against me.” She admitted, her somber tone contradicting the bubbly upbeat pop song blaring on the store speakers.
“Why?”
She shrugged, spooning another bite of ice cream in her mouth probably hoping I would move on. I was not giving in that easily though.
“Why did she turn everyone against you?”
Macy pursed her lips and stirred her ice cream more intensely. For a moment I feared she might cry and almost backed out and told her she didn’t have to talk about it but before I could, she spit it out,
“I got the solo she wanted. Coach Nell taught Zoey, me, and Kaylee a solo and told us the best dancer would get it. I got it. Zoey and Kaylee each got different solos. But Zoey wanted mine so she told all our friends not to talk to me anymore and they did. She had a sleepover a few weeks ago and invited everybody on the team but me. It sucks.”
“Oh, May.” I empathized, shocked by the cattiness of kids these days. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”
She shrugged as if it wasn’t world shattering. I wished there was a magic bandage I could put on my sister to make it go away but I couldn’t. Girls were mean. I was not about to bullshit Macy with the cliché everything happens for a reason or it will work out how it’s meant to be because that had zero comforting effect. Therefore, I figured she was finally old enough to hear about one of my most defining experiences of high school.
“Do you remember my old friend Emelia?”
She nodded, taking bite of frozen yogurt that included a blue and red sour gummy worm and a piece of candy corn, a combination that disgusted me.
“We were best friends for a long time just like you and Zoey. Then when we got to high school, she made the cheer squad and became friends with a bunch of girls that were more popular than me. We stayed friends for a while but it seemed like every time we made plans, something better would come up with her cheer friends and she would bail on me. I let it go for a while but when she cancelled on our plans to go to the movies for my birthday, I lost it and called her out. She accused me of being jealous and wrote bad things about me all over social media. I was devastated. But eventually it blew over and I made new friends.”
I expected Macy to act appalled at Emelia’s betrayal or have sympathy for me but instead she bluntly admitted, “I never liked Emelia. She was kind of annoying. Always talked to me like I was baby.”
Emelia could be condescending. She was an only child and wanted siblings so badly and I think she just tried too hard with Macy and Spencer. Macy was seven and sassy as ever the last time Emelia came over. The bad taste in her mouth didn’t entirely shock me.
“Point of my story is, just because Zoey says bad things about you doesn’t mean it’s true. I’m sure lots of people don’t think it’s true. Probably even other people in your dance group. Peer pressure just makes people do stupid things.”
Macy shrugged again then quickly moved on to tell me a story about her spelling test at school, clearly a maneuver to change the subject. I didn’t know if our talk helped her, but I hoped somewhere deep down it made her feel a little more validated.
I tossed and turned all night, worrying about what I should do on Saturday. I had waited my whole life to meet my dad but I knew it would mean the world to Macy if I attended her dance competition. She needed all the fans she could get right now as Zoey had clearly shaken her confidence. I figured Mom and Ross were both planning to go and would probably take Spencer, but after her recent abandonment from all her friends, I didn’t want to let her down too.
As my eyelids got heavier around midnight, I noticed the hallway light come on. Mom and Ross’ room was downstairs so I thought Macy or Spencer had gotten up in the night, possibly sick. I got up to check and nearly ran into my mother in the hallway, face white as a sheep.
Friday, February 1st, 2019
“Mom? What’s wrong?” I asked as she stood before me, visibly shaking and breathing unevenly. I heard Ross moving around downstairs, making a lot of noise in the kitchen as if grabbing things to leave in a hurry. Maybe Mom was so paranoid about me finding my dad that we were going to leave home in the middle of the night, move to an island, and start all over.
“Grandpa had a heart attack.” She blurted out, putting her hand over her mouth as if she was going to puke. She didn’t. She took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, then added, “Ross is taking me up to the hospital. I need you to look after the kids, make sure they eat breakfast and get to the bus stop by 7:50. I’ll email your school and tell them you’ll be late.”
I nodded though still hung up on the first statement. Grandpa had a heart attack. Though it was clearly an ambiguous situation, I asked, “Is he gonna be okay?”
The question made Mom burst into tears. “I don’t know, Jess. I don’t know.”
I wrapped my arms tightly around her, which only doubled her sobbing. My grandpa was only fifty-eight. He wasn’t old enough to die. Mom was only thirty-four. She wasn’t old enough to lose her dad. And I wasn’t old enough to lose my grandpa. He still had to see me graduate high school and get married and have my own kids one day. It wasn’t fair. As badly as I wanted to cry myself, I had to be strong for Mom.
“I’ll look after Macy and Spencer. Don’t worry about them. Go see Grandpa.”
“Thank you so much, Jess.” She squeezed me tightly, still blubbering. I heard Ross come up the stairs, a little surprised to see Mom so emotional.
“Vanessa,” He sympathized, placing his hand on her back. She let go of me and plunged into his arms. He held her against his chest, reassuring her that everything would be okay though I didn’t know how he could be so certain.
I tried to fall asleep after Mom and Ross left for the hospital but it was hopeless. My mind was like a busy city, full of different trains of thought and worry. Eventually I trailed downstairs and turned on the TV, drifting off after about an hour and a half of infomercials. A few hours later, I woke up to Spencer shaking me, hungry and ready for school.
“Jess? Where’s Daddy?”
Ross got Macy and Spencer up and ready for school every morning since Mom left for work when they were still asleep. My phone was dead on the coffee table so my alarm hadn’t gone off. The time on the TV which had been left on all night read 7:59. Macy and Spencer missed the bus.
“Shoot. Is Macy awake?” I asked, ignoring Spencer’s question about Ross’ whereabouts.
“I don’t know. What’s going on? Where’s Daddy?”
Mom hadn’t given me explicit instructions about what I should tell my younger siblings but I imagined she didn’t want me to scare them. I decided not tell them so they could have a normal day at school without worrying.
“Mommy and Daddy had something to take care of. I’ll get you some breakfast. Will you go upstairs and make sure Macy’s awake and ready for school? And brush your teeth if you haven't yet. And make sure Macy brushes hers.”
He ran up the stairs like a videogame character trying to beat the clock while I fished some granola bars out of the pantry and grabbed two juice boxes from the fridge. Macy and Spencer both came down to the kitchen a few minutes later, thankfully both dressed and ready for
the day.
“What’s going on?” Macy insisted sourly, not buying my ‘Mommy and Daddy are busy’ story as easily as Spencer had.
“Nothing. I just have to drive you to school. You missed the bus.” I handed them the breakfast I’d scavenged which was met with disgruntled looks from them both.
“I wanted cereal!” Spencer complained.
“We don’t have time! Come on!” I ordered, too cranky and exhausted to be patient with him. They reluctantly followed me out to the car only to realize they had forgotten their backpacks and had to go back in. Their school started at 8:25, was about eight minutes away with morning traffic, and it was already 8:16. Though she had bigger things on her plate, Mom would be pissed if Macy and Spencer were late to school because I had neglected to wake up and get them on the bus in time.
Spencer got out right away when I pulled into the school parking lot, skipping off towards the front entrance like it was just another day. He had about a minute to spare before the tardy bell and took that as a quest to get to class on time. Macy, however, sat with her arms crossed in the backseat.
“We’re already late.” She whined. “I’m tired. I wanna go home.”
“You have to go, May.” I insisted. “I’ll get in trouble with Mom if I let you skip.”
She shrugged as if my standing to Mom didn’t matter to her. She was too heavy for me to forcefully pull her out of the car and carry her to her classroom like a preschooler. Maybe I would have to bribe her with frozen yogurt again or agree to let her watch TV before homework after school. Mom occasionally complained that though Macy was only nine, she already acted like a teenager. In moments like this, I completely agreed.
“Macy, you have to go.” I repeated more sternly. She wasn’t afraid of me so my assertion got nothing more than an eye roll.