Every Other Weekend
Page 28
“You’re offering your apartment as a neutral zone. Got it.” Then I pointed toward the TV. “We should probably start the movie though, before it gets too late.”
“Right,” Guy said. “Wouldn’t want you to miss bed check.” He tried to soften the sting of his words by smiling, but I regretted sharing some details with him the other night when I hadn’t had my usual filter on. I’d told him plenty. He knew no one was going to come check on me.
I shrugged his hand off my shoulder.
“Hey, hey.” He sighed, and his breath ruffled my hair. “That wasn’t directed at you, okay? People should care enough about you to wonder where you are. That’s all I meant.”
“Sure, fine, but can we please watch the movie now?”
He relented, eventually, after pulling the almost forgotten throw over me, then he left one arm across the back of the couch.
I had the weirdest thought while the opening credits started. There I was with a near stranger, and he was taking better care of me than my parents. My own dad didn’t even know where I was. He didn’t care, so long as he kept me away from Mom for the exact same window of time every month. And she was no better.
Guy had to wake me up when the movie ended. His arm had slid around my back, because I’d slumped onto him. He said he didn’t mind, and I got the sense that he was telling the truth. Nothing I’d done had bothered him. Maybe he really was a nice guy.
I didn’t stiffen when he hugged me at the door. I was starting to get used to the fact that he was a touchy-feely kind of guy.
“So,” he said, still in mid-hug. “Next time I run into you with a bunch of people, what do you want me to say?”
“Hi usually works.”
“Is that it?”
I pulled free from his hug easily. He was talking about more than proper greeting etiquette. It made my skin prickle uncomfortably that this was something we had to have a conversation about. “What do you think?”
Guy looked me straight in the eye before answering. “I think that there are lots of different kinds of people with lots of different kinds of ideas. We don’t always consider things from all angles before we make judgments.”
“You don’t think we should let anyone know we’re friends.”
“That’s not what I said. I don’t want to risk a new friendship on what people may or may not decide is okay. Do you?”
What he meant but wasn’t saying was that no one was going to understand a thirty-year-old guy hanging out with a sixteen-year-old girl alone in his apartment. It sounded skeevy even to me, but it wasn’t like that. People weren’t going to reserve judgment while I explained about my broken home and empty room. They weren’t going to understand that Guy was offering me a refuge, a place where I didn’t have to be alone. And that was what he was doing. He was being a friend when I didn’t have anyone else.
“No, I guess not.”
“I’m not telling you what to say. You’re old enough to make your own decisions.”
“No. No, I think you’re right. People can be dumb.” I couldn’t believe I was admitting that to him.
“Right. I’ll nod if I see you out there. No one will object to that. But in here,” he said, “we can be as close as we want.”
It was nice to have somebody who cared enough to think about how things would affect me. I knew Adam cared about me, but he had a whole family that cared about him, and he couldn’t always be there for me. Based on how quickly the building was improving, soon he wouldn’t be here at all.
I pushed that thought away and smiled at Guy. “I’d like that.”
Based on Guy’s smile, he did, too.
ADAM
Jeremy’s intention was crystal clear when he came into my room later that night. He leaped on me and nailed me rapid-fire in the arm at least half a dozen times before I could get him off. All of this was done with almost no sound, because we were both aware of Dad only a thin wall away.
At last Jeremy stopped trying to find new parts of me to hit, and I released the choke hold I had on him. We sat at opposite ends of my bed, heaving—quietly—and glaring at each other. I was the first to quit scowling, and Jeremy seized the opportunity to get in one last cheap shot.
And I let him.
Because, yeah.
In a low voice, he said, “Two hours. And you couldn’t do it.”
“I’m trying.”
Jeremy reared back to hit me again and I jerked away.
“Okay. Okay.” I sighed, because he was right. Saying two words to Dad the last time I saw him wasn’t trying. Deliberately picking a fight with him wasn’t trying. None of what I was doing was trying.
And I did want to try. I did. I had to, because what Dad was doing wasn’t enough.
“I won’t run my mouth again. I’ll try, okay?”
Jeremy wouldn’t look at me. “You better. And it can’t just be this weekend. It has to be every time.” He didn’t mention Jolene specifically, but the point was clear enough. If I was going to do this thing with Dad, really do it, I wouldn’t be able to spend every waking moment with her. I’d have to pull back. A lot. Even thinking about that made me clench my jaw and want to yell at Dad again for taking me away from yet another person I loved.
“How do you do it?” I asked, knowing I was going to need help.
Jeremy looked up, a frown on his face.
“How are you not mad at him?”
His frown increased. “You think I’m not?”
“You don’t act like it.”
“Because it’s not just Dad. I’m mad at Mom, too, and I’m mad at you.” Jeremy snorted. “I’m even mad at Greg.”
That last admission took me aback. “That’s messed up.”
Jeremy shrugged. “But it’s true. And it’s not most of the time. Most of the time you’re being such a punk that I don’t have any mad left for anyone else.”
I smiled a little.
“But if I’m mad at everyone, then we’re all the same and it doesn’t have to matter as much. Is Dad a coward for leaving? Maybe. But so is Mom. And you, you come here and rail at Dad and try to make him jump through all these hoops while coddling Mom constantly. And Greg with his stupid—” Jeremy closed his mouth and blinked a few times. “We all suck, okay? Let’s just get us back together and then you can pull all the crap you want.”
Jeremy snapped his head to mine when I didn’t respond right away. “Yeah,” I said. “Okay. Tomorrow. I’ll try, for real this time.”
Jeremy shoved me on the way out, but he didn’t look half as pissed as he had when he came in. Still, I had to say one last thing even if it didn’t make him any happier with me.
“Jer. I’m sorry.”
He hesitated at the door. “Yeah, you are. Don’t be tomorrow.”
IN BETWEEN
Adam:
Hey.
Jolene:
Hey. You got your phone back.
Adam:
I would have texted you as soon as I got home last night and charged it but I didn’t want to check out on my mom.
Jolene:
I get it.
Adam:
We were watching a movie and I crashed.
Jolene:
It’s okay. Or actually, I’m going to reserve judgment until you tell me what movie you watched.
Adam:
Anne of Green Gables. The first part anyway. It’s her favorite.
Jolene:
I’ve never seen it.
Adam:
Don’t tell my mom or she’ll tie you to our couch and make you watch all of them with her.
Jolene:
That actually sounds nice.
Adam:
I’m not saying it’s a bad movie or miniseries or whatever, but it’s long. Like all day long.
Jolene:
Adam:
Well, yeah. It’s not her fault she only had sons.
Jolene:
I’m sure she wouldn’t trade you.
Adam:
No, she wouldn’t. So do I really have to wait two weeks before I get to see you again?
Jolene:
It won’t be that bad. I mean, think how many times you can watch Anne in two weeks.
Adam:
One and a half? It’s seriously long.
Jolene:
It’ll go by fast.
Adam:
It never does.
Jolene:
This time it will. Trust me.
Jolene
“I can’t believe I fell asleep. I meant to call you at midnight, and I’m, like, twenty minutes late, but it still counts, right?”
“What counts?” Adam’s voice had a slightly gruff quality to it that tickled my senses when he spoke.
“You know. Happy birthday. Are you awake?”
“Yes, I’m awake. Someone programmed my phone to play a foghorn every time I get a call from you.” Adam’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I think you woke up my mom... Yep. I’llcallyourightback.” He hung up before I could say another word.
So far my plans weren’t turning out as I’d hoped. If Adam’s mom really was awake, she was going to make things a lot harder.
Minutes passed before my phone buzzed with a text.
Adam:
I think she went back to bed. Seriously with the foghorn?
Jolene:
I think you’re exaggerating. It didn’t sound that loud.
Adam:
Trust me, it did. If you were within a mile of my house, you’d have heard it.
Jolene:
All I hear is the wind. I can’t believe you live out here. There’s no traffic at all.
Adam:
Jolene?
Jolene:
Yes?
Adam:
Are you standing in my backyard?
Jolene:
I’m standing in A backyard, but since I haven’t heard any foghorns, it’s somewhat debatable whether or not I’m in yours.
I looked up at the big white farmhouse and saw the curtains move aside in one of the upstairs windows. I took a gamble that it was Adam’s room, and not his mom’s, and waved. I couldn’t see if he waved back, but the curtain fell closed.
Adam:
Give me a minute. Are you freezing?
Jolene:
Yes.
Freezing had long since come and gone. I was impressed with myself for still being able to text legibly and not go all The Abyss on him. It was starting to snow, and the soft white flakes were no longer melting on my skin when they landed on me. The drift I was standing in was over my ankles. But it was worth it. Less than a minute later, the back door opened and Adam came out. He was wearing red-and-black plaid pajamas with his thick, fleece-collared coat hanging open as he jogged toward me. He didn’t stop until his warm breath fogged with mine.
“You’re nuts.”
“What I am is freezing.” And happy. I couldn’t stop smiling up at him.
Adam turned his head back and forth, looking around. “How did you get here?”
“Remember that whole conversation we had about hot-wiring my mom’s car? Turns out it’s super hard, so I took her keys instead.”
I’d been fully prepared to pay for an Uber or hitchhike if necessary, but ever since my mom had broken up with Tom, she’d been going to bed earlier. Or at least going to her room and shutting the door.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” His gaze roved all over me and the chill fled wherever he looked.
“I am, but you’re about to end up with the solid block of ice version of me if you don’t get me somewhere warm.” I’d already been outside way longer than I’d intended, because I’d had the brilliant idea to park down the block in case Adam’s mom heard my car pulling up. Only it turned out Adam didn’t live on a block. The road I’d trudged up had turned into rocks, which had turned into dirt long before his house finally came into view. The snow was letting up, but the temperature felt somewhere close to two degrees, and the wind was kicking up. Too cold. My teeth were chattering.
Adam took my hand and flinched. He felt like toasty heaven, so I added my other hand and let him lead us to a big red barn a few hundred feet from his house.
“Do you have cows and pigs and stuff?” I asked in a chill-laced voice.
“No, it’s empty. Come on.”
“You realize that your house looks like a Norman Rockwell painting whereas mine looks like it could be the film set of a Real Housewives series.”
The barn was moderately warmer than outside. I couldn’t see our breath anymore, but I didn’t have time to think about that before Adam took off his coat, still heated from his body, and wrapped it around me.
“Better?”
“Mmm,” I said, snuggling into the warmth.
There were only a couple windows set high above a loft on one end so I could only make out his outline as he moved away from me and knelt in a corner. A second later strings of crisscrossing lights glowed to life in the rafters above us.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.
“Greg’s version of night-lights for the animals,” he explained. I heard his teeth chatter and I laughed.
“You’re going to freeze in just those pj’s, which by the way, you look great in.”
There was enough light to make out his blush.
“Be right back.” Then he jogged back into the cold and returned a few minutes later wearing another coat. There were a few boxes and a trunk in one corner next to an entire wall of cages in various sizes, and that was where we sat. He shook his head and smiled while he watched me start to thaw. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“You did sort of set the bar with your midnight call and promises for my next birthday. The least I could do was wish you a happy birthday in person.”
He was looking at me like I was the best thing he’d ever seen, and my heart started racing. It was so intense that it took everything I had not to look away. “So...happy birthday.” I didn’t think there was anything special about the way that I said that, but Adam swallowed and dropped his gaze to his hands.
“How do you keep doing this to me?”
“Um,” I said. “This is the first birthday where I’ve shown up at your house in the middle of the night, so either you’re still half-asleep, or you’re confusing me with some other girl. In which case, ow.”
Adam didn’t even crack a smile. “This wasn’t supposed to be a good year for me. My parents split up, and my brother and I can barely have a conversation without one of us hitting the other. Greg’s been gone two years, and when I think about him sometimes, I still can’t breathe. I’ve been so mad at...everyone for so long, because if I’m not mad...” His voice went whisper soft. “If I’m not mad all the time, then I have to be something else, something I don’t want to be, because if I start, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”
I should have felt uncomfortable, watching him peel back the innermost layers of his heart, and while I did wish I could help him stop hurting, I didn’t want to make him stop talking.
“I’m realizing that I’m even mad at my mom. I tried not to be, because she’s so broken that if I let myself be angry at her, I’ll end up hating myself more, but I am. I’m angry that she let my dad go. I’m angry that she won’t let us all miss Greg together. I’m angry that, because of her, we can’t miss all the parts of him. We can’t let ourselves remember him without going back to the night he died. I thought if I could just be mad at my dad, then I wouldn’t have to be mad at her, but I’ve been just as stuck as
she is and I—”
He finally looked up at me, with that same too-intense expression on his face. “I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be stuck. I don’t want to be mad, not even at my dad.”
I didn’t understand everything he was trying to say, but if he was telling me he wanted to let go of all his anger, then I was glad, and I told him so as I reached for his hand.
“Jo.” He smiled as he watched our fingers intertwine. “How can you still not know?”
Adam could make someone feel stupid by just raising an eyebrow, but that wasn’t what he was doing. He wasn’t being condescending; he was being patient with me, carefully trying to show me something that had been hidden for a long time. My heart hammered painfully against my chest as though it was trying to escape.
“That day we took our first picture for my mom, you told me not to take it personally if I couldn’t make her happy.”
“I don’t remember,” I said, hating that my voice was shaky.
“But that’s what I’ve been doing. Not just taking it personally, but holding everyone else responsible, too. So I became angrier and angrier, and my family didn’t get any better. I’m not saying my anger is the reason my family isn’t together, but it’s part of why we’ve stayed that way. If I’d been trying from the start...then maybe... I don’t know.” He took a huge breath. “I know that it’s not my dad’s fault. It’s not my mom’s fault, or Jeremy’s. I know it’s not my fault. It’s all and none, and I know that because of you.”
My heart lurched so violently I nearly toppled over. I tried to pull my hand free, but Adam hung on to me. “You made me want to be happy again.”
Tears sprang so forcefully to my eyes that I had to squeeze them shut, and still, he kept talking.
“You made me want to try when all I’d been doing was blaming everyone else. You don’t do that, and I don’t think you ever have. You are so much braver than I am, and I think I—no, I know that I lo—”