If Only We

by Jessica Sankiewicz

  Has he reached that point?

  After we sit down, I need to find out. “Why are you doing this?”

  He stirs his coffee slowly and then looks up at me. “Because you have a lot on your mind that has been getting you down. I want to make it better.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s the chaos theory all over again.” He smirks and takes a bite out of the peanut butter cookie.

  “So taking me out for coffee-flavored drinks and baked goods is supposed to make it better?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

  “If I’ve been taught anything, it’s that cookies and chocolate make everything better.”

  I smile coyly, then break off part of the peanut butter cookie while it is still in his hand. “Cookies and chocolate always make everything better.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Saturday, August 11th

  My mom and I have been avoiding each other as much as possible. Neither one of us want to make things uncomfortable for Maurice or Kaitlin, especially after Maurice made it clear he wanted us to act like a family. So whenever we are all together, we talk; mostly she and I talk to either Maurice or Kaitlin, never directly. Any time we are alone in a room or pass by in the house, we barely utter a word.

  It’s not right.

  Yet I don’t know what to do to make things right. Even if I did become a nurse to please her, the damage is done. She can’t trust me, and I don’t blame her there. If I were her, I wouldn't want to trust my daughter after she lied to me all summer either. I wish there was a way we could compromise. I have a feeling that despite what my dad told me, it is going to be hard to find that middle ground. At least I can’t see it in the near future.

  Maurice and Kaitlin go out for a daddy/daughter dinner Saturday night. It's the first time my mom and I have been in the house without one of them there with us. I almost want to lock myself in my room and not come out, but I do need to eat and I don’t want my mom to eat by herself.

  I go down to the kitchen when I hear my mom making noise getting out pots and pans. I go to the refrigerator and get out lettuce, tomatoes, and olives. I start chopping and slicing, waiting for my mom to say something to me.

  She doesn’t.

  Before I realize it, I sigh. Of all the things I could do at this moment, it has to be something audible and obvious. This catches my mom’s attention. She turns her head to me and asks, “What?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. I just…I was hoping that maybe you would say something.”

  She is silent for a moment. I'm regretting that sigh already. She finally says, “I don’t know what to say, Adrienne.” She starts boiling water in the pan. “I just wish you wouldn’t throw your life away.”

  I cringe and bite my lip. “I’m not throwing my life away.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  This is a trick question; no matter what I say I'm going to be reamed out. I give her the most honest answer I can think of. “Discovering the world of possibility. I need to find out who I am and go from there.”

  “And you have to skip college to do this?”

  “I wouldn’t be the first person to take a semester off. It’s actually a little more reasonable because some people take a year or two off and travel across Europe. I just need a small break to figure things out.”

  “You still lied to me.”

  I set the knife down on the counter next to the bowl and spin around. “I know. And I'm sorry that I lied. I really am. But we need to get past this. I have made my decision.”

  She holds up her hands. “Without even discussing it with me.”

  “Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t feel like I could before.”

  “You can’t discuss important life decisions with your own mother?” she says harshly.

  “Not when I know the conversation is going to be one-sided!” I yell. “I did try to talk to you the one time, years ago when I was a freshman. We had a career day where a bunch of people came in to talk about the jobs we could have when we grew up. You remember what you said to me?”

  She purses her lips. “No.”

  “You said, ‘It doesn’t matter, we’ve already got a plan.’” I blink the tears back. “So, no, Mom. I can’t discuss this with you. In fact, I’m done trying to reason with you.” I grab a towel and wipe my hands. “I’m going to Lyndsay’s. Don’t wait up, I may spend the night.”

  ~*~

  “How did you deal with my mom so gracefully?” I ask Faith after dinner. I couldn't stop thinking about it all through the meal. With as much trouble as I have been having attempting to create a peaceful relationship with her again, I just don't understand how it's possible.

  She lets out a long breath. “To be honest, it wasn’t always so graceful or easy. It probably seems that way to you because you weren’t old enough to remember the early years.”

  “The early years?”

  She leans back in her chair. “Back when I was pregnant with Lyndsay and your mom was pregnant with you. She graduated from college, had a job, and was married to your father. I was fresh out of high school, had no job, and wasn't married. How could I raise a child, go to college, and work all by myself? My parents were willing to help but I didn't want to rely on them. I was a different kind of girl, unwilling to accept their generosity.” She chuckles. “So I decided to skip college and go straight to work. My mom was not too pleased with my decision but she knew I was going to have a child of my own to care for. She just assumed I would go to college in a couple years. Your mom, however, was upset. ‘This is our family’s tradition.’” I could hear my mom’s voice in my head. “She kept saying that over and over again. She wouldn’t let it go. For a few years, anytime the family would get together she and I would argue. Everyone else could hardly stand being in the same room as us.”

  “I didn’t know it got that bad.”

  “It was because of you girls that we tried to get along, and for the sake of the family when we got together. It got better when I decided to become a nurse’s aide. Your mom started to be nicer once she heard, but things were still tense since I wasn’t planning on going to college to be an RN.”

  I sigh. “So my mom will never be okay with me not being a nurse in some capacity?”

  She frowns. “I wouldn’t say that. She and I have been able to get along regardless of my choices. The obstacle is the two of you being stubborn.”

  I make a face. “I’m not stubborn. I just know that I don’t want what she wants.”

  She shakes her head. “No, Adrienne. You are stubborn. You lived in your mother’s shadow for years, and then you decided to think for yourself. The day you did that was when you became stubborn. At least, in your mother’s eyes.”

  I consider this a moment. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be a nurse; it was because she and I were too similar. That similarity put us at odds when we had opposite views. “So, since I’m no longer a passive child, she doesn’t know what to do?”

  Faith nods. “She is in shock essentially, and her initial response to that shock is to fight. It’s a new side to you that she never expected to see. I don’t think she likes it much. However, once the shock wears off, she is going to remember that you are her daughter and she loves you no matter what.” She reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze. “She’ll get over it soon.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Wednesday, August 15th

  “Just a little over one week and then my baby girl will be starting high school,” Maurice says after dinner. It was a pleasant meal, as it has been since the argument on Saturday. My mom and I seem to have some sort of unspoken truce in place. The fighting will only cause more tension and nobody wants that.

  Kaitlin gives a hint of a smile as we gather up our plates and silverware. Maurice continues and asks, “You getting excited?”

  Her partial smile fades into a frown. “Not really.”

  Maurice chuckles. “You don’t have anything to worry about. High school is a lot like middle school, just i
n a bigger building.” He turns to me. “You just made it through, Adrienne. Tell her.”

  I look over at her and say, “It’s not bad. There are times when it feels like too much to handle but you will survive. Trust me.” I smile. “Besides, you have friends like Paige, and you’re going to make plenty more as the years go by.”

  She doesn’t respond immediately. “Yeah,” she says dejectedly.

  I know that the way they portray high school in television and movies probably has her worried about friends and classes. It probably isn’t helping her watching The O.C. constantly. Despite that thought, I still suggest watching more of it with her. She replies, “Maybe tomorrow. I have a book I want to finish.”

  Hiding my worry, I say, “Okay. Tomorrow sounds good to me.”

  When she goes to her room and closes the door, all I want is to open it up and ask her what is bothering her, but I don’t. She will let me know when she is ready.

  I sigh and go to my room. I don’t really feel like sitting around in here the rest of the night. I send Chevy a message to meet me at the coffee shop. Half an hour later, we're in line ordering iced coffees. I glance at the chalkboard sign on the counter and see that karaoke is this Saturday. It makes my stomach clench to think about it.

  He notices me looking at it and asks, “Thinking about singing that song for me?”

  I look away from the sign. “Maybe.”

  He taps my arm. “Hey, what’s wrong? You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to sing, you know.”

  “I know.”

  He lets out a sigh. “What makes it so hard for you?”

  I slowly make eye contact with him again. Should I tell him? We have opened up about so many things that he deserves to know this too. “Back in fifth grade, we had this recital. I got up in front of, like, two hundred people to sing a solo. I was so nervous my heart was racing. I didn’t look at the audience when I started singing. Everything was fine, until I looked up. My voice trailed off and my knees locked into place. That’s when I fainted.” I close my eyes. “Nobody really remembers it now but every time the idea of singing alone comes up, the feeling associated with that moment stirs up inside of me and I freak out.”

  He touches my arm gently. “I’m sorry for trying to push you into it.”

  “You didn’t push for anything. Besides, it’s not like you knew.” I look back at the sign. “One of these days I’ll just do it.” I lightly shove his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re there for it.”

  He grins. “Promise?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  As we walk down the street with our drinks, I fill him in on what transpired over the weekend.

  “Everything will work out eventually,” Chevy says.

  “I know,” I say with a sigh.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” I sneak a glance and see a smirk on his face.

  “Because it sounds like you don’t.”

  “Okay, maybe I don’t believe it,” I admit, “but I believe you.” I smile sweetly.

  He smiles back. “You’ve been telling me the same about my dad. Turns out you were right, despite the fact that I kept believing it was all going to fall apart.”

  It hits me suddenly how important we are to each other. Our friendship over this summer has managed to keep both of us from losing our minds. Everything we have been going through, he has been there for me as much as I have been for him. It has drawn us closer. I didn’t have that with him when we were in school. I didn’t have that with him when I abandoned him over the summer.

  I didn’t really have him until now.

  “Adrienne?”

  I break out of my reverie and turn to him. “Yes?”

  He chuckles. “Where did you go just now?”

  I shake my head. “Just somewhere in my head.”

  “Where in your head?”

  “The part that is extremely grateful to have you in my life.”

  He reaches over and puts his arm around my shoulder, holding me close as we walk. “That feeling is mutual.”

  I wrap my arm around his waist. “Good to know.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Monday, August 20th

  Regardless of the truce, I spend the day over at Lyndsay’s to avoid any potential accidental battle at home. My mom is working a rare late shift due to a schedule change. Instead of being home in the evening when Maurice is home, she is there during the day. I didn’t think Kaitlin was enough of a buffer zone to prevent any fights, so I opted to go elsewhere. I felt bad about leaving Kaitlin by herself, but she has still been acting a little weird and I didn’t want to push her too much. I figure she just needs a bit of space right now.

  Lyndsay is going through her college schedule online while I lie on the bed. She has some mellow music going and it makes me want to fall asleep. I nearly do, but then I hear a faint sound through the window that causes me to jump straight up.

  The sound of a siren.

  A chill runs up my spine. “What is today?” I ask.

  Lyndsay looks at the calendar on her wall. “The twentieth. Why?”

  I turn to the calendar and confirm that it is the twentieth. My eyes widen in horror. The accident.

  She stares, brows furrowing. “Adrienne. What is it? Is something wrong?”

  This can’t be happening. I talked to John—everything should be fine.

  “Seriously, Adrienne, what is wrong? You’re beginning to scare me.”

  I snap back into reality. She doesn't know what I know, and she can’t find out. I can’t possibly tell the truth. I shake my head and quickly reply, “Sorry…I was just thinking about Kaitlin. I should get home to her. That’s all.”

  “Hmm.” She doesn’t believe me. I'm about to crack when she sighs and says, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

  I give her a quick hug and head out the door. Hurrying down the street, I have fallen into full-blown disbelieving panic. There is no way this is happening. It has to be some sort of trick of my mind. The ambulance is going to another house. It is not at the Thompsons' house. It is just not possible.

  Turning the corner onto Chevy’s street, the ambulance is in front of his house. My stomach sinks to my feet as I stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk. My breath catches in my throat. My worst fear has happened.

  My second chance has been stomped on by fate.

  My hands fly up to my mouth and I hold back a cry. I watch, helpless, as the paramedics carry John out of the house on a gurney and place him in the back of the ambulance. Chevy and his mother run out the door after them.

  I freeze up, realizing I should not be here. I should not know about the significance of today. There is no logical reason for me to be standing here. None. But I can’t just stand here. And I can’t run away.

  “Chevy!” I yell as I run to him. He turns his head and stares in disbelief. I close the space between us, taking hold of his arms. I ask, “What happened?”

  His breath is uneven. “My…my dad. We were...we were eating dinner when he grabbed his chest.” He stops, looking to the house. “He fell to the floor. They...they think he had a heart attack.”

  A heart attack. Of all the things…

  Noreen takes hold of Chevy’s shoulders and touches the side of his face, saying, “I’m riding in the front. I called Seymour and he’s on his way to meet us there. Will you be able to drive there by yourself?”

  Chevy is not only at a loss for words but he's also shaking. He is in no shape to be driving. I speak up, “If he can’t, I can drive him, Noreen.”

  She looks relieved. “Thank you. Chevy, get the keys to my car. I will see you there.” She climbs into the front seat of the ambulance.

  I grab Chevy’s hand and we run into the house. He finds her keys in the bowl on the table next to the door.

  We drive to the hospital in near silence. I speed, but only slightly since I can’t stop looking over at him. His right hand is gripping the
handle on the door so tightly his knuckles are turning white. The rest of him is shaking. Slowing down, I reach over and take his trembling hand in mine. He looks down at it, then to me. I squeeze his hand, and then turn my eyes back to the road.

  When we get there, we run into the emergency room so quickly I don’t get the chance to brace myself for the smell. It hits me like a wall, causing me to stop. But I can’t stop now.

  Not now.

  Chevy stares at me. “Are you okay?” he asks, clearly concerned. He knows why I stopped.

  This doesn’t matter though. John matters. Chevy matters. And he needs me.

  I stare at him, holding my hand to my chest. Breathe in, breathe out. I can do this. I can do this. I need to push through the pain to help someone I care about. One deep breath later and I am in control. I take hold of Chevy’s arm and say, “I’m fine,” as I guide us to the nurse’s station. Noreen is nowhere in sight in the waiting room. She must be with John.

  The nurse behind the counter turns out to be one of my mom’s hospital friends, Teresa. When she sees me, the expression on my face must scare her. “Adrienne! What’s wrong?”

  I take in another deep breath and ask, “We’re looking for the man who was just brought in. John Thompson. Possible heart attack.” Chevy holds onto me tighter.

  Teresa gasps. “Oh my,” she says. “They just took him in and the doctors are working on him now.”

  I nod. “Okay. Where is the woman who came in with the paramedics?”

  Chevy speaks up. “Yes, where's my mom?”

  She looks to the double doors. “She's in there with them.”

  Chevy leans on the counter and says, “Can we go back there? Please. I need to see him.”

  Teresa gets a pained look on her face. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I can’t let anyone else back there.”

  “But he’s my father!”

  “Let me see what I can do, honey.” She picks up the phone and dials. “Please, have a seat,” she says, gesturing toward the waiting room. “I’ll call out for you when I get a hold of somebody.”