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At his house, I locate the stairs leading to the apartment above the garage, then lean my bike against a tree. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, take a quick look around the neighborhood to make sure no one sees me, then quietly climb the steps. I knock and knock and knock. I knock until my knuckles feel raw.
“He’s not here,” a man calls out from down below. I recognize him from the Forrest Sanctuary church directory. Mr. Hoffman.
“When will he be back?” I ask.
The man lifts both shoulders. “He went to Birmingham to visit a friend. I’m not sure when he plans to come back. He said he quit his job over at the high school. Any idea why?”
He left without saying good-bye? Without checking to make sure I was okay?
I’m nobody.
My mom left me.
My dad thinks I’m a big fat sinner.
My brother is on another plane of existence.
Drew’s angry with me.
Will…
Nothing. I’m nothing.
“You go to Forrest Sanctuary, right?” Mr. Hoffman asks, narrowing his eyes at me. “David Shelton’s daughter?”
“Yes, sir. ” My hands shake.
“Can I give Brian a message?”
“No message. ”
I turn and make my way down the steps and climb on my bike before anyone else sees I’m here. I pedal home, where I find Ryan curled up in a ball on the living room couch.
“Hi,” I say to him.
“Yo. ” He rests his head on a cushion, not bothering to ask about my face. My tears.
Dad’s sitting in his armchair, reading the Bible. He looks up at me and shakes his head, then goes back to reading. Bags hang under his eyes.
“I wish you hadn’t given up on Veena so quickly,” I tell Dad.
He jerks his head up and finds my eyes. “What happened with Veena is none of your business. I prayed about it. ”
“Prayer doesn’t solve everything, Dad. It’s not going to solve Ryan’s problems. Or mine. You had a good thing with Veena, but you’re so damned stubborn, and you have to listen to everything the people at church say. You only gave up because they told you to. I’m sorry you’ll keep on being lonely like this. ”
Dad takes off his glasses and runs a hand over his Bible.
I focus on my brother. “And Ryan? I’m feeling shitty. Thanks for asking. And no, I’m not making you dinner tonight. Make it your damned self. ”
He doesn’t open his eyes.
I stalk down the hall to my room, and without bothering to put on pajamas, I crawl under my covers and cry, cry, cry. Brian quit his job. Because of me. I might drown in the guilt. Neither Dad nor Ryan knocks on the door. I don’t get any texts. Drew doesn’t come over to read Cosmo with me. Will doesn’t show up by way of a lawnmower.
“Please, God,” I whisper. “Please. Tell me what to do. Please. ” I clear my head of all thoughts. I imagine how good it feels to swing at a pitch. To connect. To send a line drive over the second baseman’s head.
God, please.
My cell beeps. I jump. Look at the text from Mom. It reads: I love you. Night.
Suck in air. Hesitate. I can do this. Squinting through my tears, I dial her number. It rings. She picks up.
“Mom,” I cry.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“I need you. ”
She sucks in a breath. “I’m leaving now. I can be there in three hours. ”
Mom wakes me the next morning.
Her light brown hair hangs loosely around her shoulders, and her lips are painted a pale pink. She’s as beautiful as ever, but something’s different. She’s glowing. She’s happy.
“French toast?” she asks, rubbing my shoulder.
I love the smells wafting into my room. Fresh coffee. Eggs. Bacon. “No, thanks,” I reply. I don’t deserve French toast.
“How about you take a shower, and then we’ll get you some breakfast before your game,” Mom says, threading my hair between her fingers.
“I’m not going,” I reply, focusing on her beautiful face. It makes me feel better already. “How’d you know about the game?”
“Your brother told me you’re managing, and I found the schedule on the refrigerator. ”
“I didn’t even know he and Dad noticed. ”
She pushes hair off my forehead. “Why aren’t you going to the game? I’d love to come with you. ”
Thinking of baseball makes me remember Brian and Drew and Will and Laura, and that makes the tears start up again. I cry so hard and for so long Mom has to get a towel from the bathroom because Kleenex isn’t doing the trick. She doesn’t press me, doesn’t do anything but rub my back and kiss my head.
“Did you bring your dog? Annie?” I ask, sniffling.
“She stayed home with Theresa. She’s a real sweet puppy—I hope you’ll come meet her sometime soon. ”
“Mom? I’m sorry…for how I’ve acted. For not calling and all. ”
For judging you. For not thinking about your feelings.
Mom pats my knee. “No apology needed. I understand. I’m glad you called,” she whispers. “I hate to think of you crying alone. What happened?”
I sniffle. Mucus clogs my throat. “When you hear what I did, you’ll hate me. ”
“Impossible. Do you want to get out of the house and go for a walk before the game?”
“I’m quitting managing. ”
“You’re no quitter. ”
“I already quit softball, you know. ”
“So you took a couple seasons off. Nothing wrong with that. ”
“You shouldn’t be so forgiving. I’m an awful person. ” I let out a sob.
“You’re one of the best people I know, Parker. You’re compassionate and you love so hard. ”
“You don’t know me anymore. ”
“People don’t change that much. You’re still the same loving Christian girl I’ve always known. ”
“How can you care about being a Christian after what happened with church? With what you did?”
“God still loves me,” Mom replies quietly. “And He loves you too. ”
“Laura and Brother John said that—”
“Nothing they’ve ever said matters,” Mom interrupts. “All that matters is your personal relationship with God. ”
“God hates me,” I whisper, falling onto my pillow.
“I doubt that, but you need to work that out on your own. And no matter what, no matter what you’ve done, I’ll never stop loving you, okay?”
I look up at her. “I love you too. ”
“I quit going to church,” Mom admits quietly, averting her eyes.
“Why?”
“I can talk to God while I’m walking the dog or running in the woods just the same as if I’m at church. ”
I never thought of it that way. I guess it’s true that I write to God all the time, He just doesn’t listen. Or maybe He is, but He’s telling me what I don’t want to hear. I don’t have to be at church to do that.
“What did Dad say when you showed up?” I ask.
“He said that you’ve been ‘engaging in inappropriate activities with a guy named Corn Fritter. ’” Mom laughs silently and shakes her head.
“Corndog. Will Whitfield. ”
“Isn’t that the boy who drives you crazy? Always trying to beat you in school?”
“That’s the one. ”
“Are you dating him now?”
“No. ” Fresh tears stream down my face. Mom pulls me into her arms and rocks me. “I wish I were though. ”
“Does he like you back?”
“He did…but I did something stupid. But you can’t tell Dad or anyone,” I mutter.
“I promise I won’t say a thing. ”
Mom’s face never changes as I tell her about Brian and Will and Drew, but I can tell she’s upset because she squeezes my hand harder during the bad parts, like how I got myself involved with
the coach of the baseball team.
“Did you sleep with him?” she whispers.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“We should get you a doctor’s appointment anyway. You’re old enough that you need to go. ”
“Okay. ”
“We should probably get you on birth control too. ”
Holy embarrassment. “I won’t be needing it. ”
“You should be prepared, just in case. I was seventeen once. ” Mom’s mouth twitches in amusement, then goes back to sadness. “And you’re sure Dr. Salter isn’t planning a formal investigation?”
“He said he wouldn’t if Brian resigned. It’s all my fault. ” The tears won’t stop. If I hadn’t pursued Brian like I did…
“I’ll call Dr. Salter here in a bit to make sure nothing will fall back on you. Brian is an adult and should’ve known better. ” Mom clutches my hand. “He shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. This isn’t all your fault, okay?”
“I messed everything up,” I cry. “I lost Drew. ”
“So Drew is angry with you because of Will?”
“Right. But I’m mad at him too. He wouldn’t even listen to me. ”
“I’m gonna tell you something that took me forty-two years to figure out. ” She traces the spiral pattern on my duvet. “Sometimes you gotta do what’s right for you and forget about everybody else. All that matters is what you want. What you need. ”
What I had wanted was Brian, and look how that turned out. “That doesn’t seem very Christian-like. ”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But you only live once, and if something feels right to you and you want it, you should go after it. ”
“Is that why you left us?” I cry. If she hadn’t left, things would be okay. Maybe Will and I would’ve fallen in love.
“I never meant to hurt you,” Mom replies, sounding so sad. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t done what I did, because losing you was the worst punishment possible. ” Her eyes close.
Mom did what she felt was right for her. Maybe it’s about knowing what you want and going after it––and being willing to pay the consequences when everyone else thinks it’s wrong.
“You didn’t lose me,” I say, hugging her as tightly as I can. And if God’s watching us, maybe he’s saying, Sure, a bunch of shit had to happen, but a mother and daughter are back together. A mother can love her daughter even if she’s been sinning like it’s going out of style. A daughter can love her mother even if she acted selfishly.
“I hurt Will so bad,” I mumble, rubbing my face. It stings.
She pauses for a long moment. “Do you like him a lot?”
It felt like more than like. Something more, something real. Something like love. But now it’s gone.
After I told Mom about Ryan’s trip to the ER and what’s been happening with him, her face went white, her eyes glossed over, and she stalked off to find Dad. They’ve spent a good hour talking in the dining room, using hushed voices. Ryan and I are sitting in the living room, trying to eavesdrop, pretending to watch TV, glancing at each other from time to time.
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