I picked up the last piece of mail and frowned at the return address.
It was from the College of Baltimore.
My stomach flipped over as I held it. I remember when I had, on a whim, applied to a few schools. I had been high on the changes in my life and thought why not? I had Flynn in my corner telling me to do it. I had my professor saying I had a gift. Hope had been new and exciting.
But that had been before real life stuff stomped all over my smiley, happy hope with huge shit kickers.
I didn’t expect an acceptance. The several others I had already received were what I had anticipated. Rejection. I was all too familiar with it.
But this one felt different.
There was some weight to it.
Did I dare to believe again?
Or was it time to finally let my dreams go?
Fate obviously had other plans.
With trembling fingers, I tore open the letter. The envelope fell to the floor and I didn’t even bother to pick it up. It was a packet of information. A glossy brochure showing pretty manicured lawns and impressive brick buildings stared back at me. I pulled the letter with my name to the top of the pile, my eyes skimming its contents.
Congratulations! It is my pleasure to inform you…
What?
I blinked several times, almost certain my eyes were playing tricks on me and I read it again. The words didn’t change.
I had been accepted to the College of Baltimore. In Maryland. Over three hundred miles away.
I could barely breathe.
It seemed almost cruel to hand me something like this at a time when it felt that it was impossible to take.
I shoved the packet of information back into the pile of mail and closed the door to my post office box. I walked back across the street, feeling both heavy and light at the same time.
I walked into the apartment surprised to find Dania up and making herself something to eat.
“Hey, you!” Dania called out with more energy than I had heard from her in months.
“Hey,” I called back, walking into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” I asked, curious about what she was stirring around in the pot on the stove.
“I’m making soup. I was hungry and I figured I’d make enough for both of us. Want some?” she asked, smiling.
“Uh, sure,” I replied, wondering what was going on. Dania had barely gotten out of her pajamas in ages and now she was standing in my kitchen making freaking soup.
Dania ladled some into a bowl and handed it to me. I held it like it was a ticking time bomb. Thoughtful Dania made me nervous.
We took our soup into the living room and sat down on the couch.
“I saw Brandon yesterday,” she said, her face guarded but her eyes gave everything away. I saw a peaceful contentment there I had never seen from her before.
“You did?” I asked, shocked. I had been at school and then worked most of the evening. When I had finally gotten home, Dania had already been in bed. But she hadn’t mentioned a thing all week about going to see him. I had long since grown convinced that she had no plans to ever see her son. The service plan paperwork still sat in its envelope on the counter, unopened.
Dania nodded. “He’s going to be released from the NICU tomorrow. I’ve been talking to Randa, his foster care worker, and she had suggested I go to see him. I didn’t want to at first. But she convinced me it would be good for me. She picked me up yesterday morning and took me to Barkley.”
“How was he?” I asked, hardly able to believe what I was hearing.
“He was tiny and perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she said softly.
“Does this mean you’ll do the stuff in your service plan? That you’re going to work to get him back?” I asked.
Dania put her bowl down on the coffee table and brought her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.
“No, I’m not,” she said.
I put my bowl down beside hers and stared at her blankly, not understanding.
“What are you saying?” I asked her.
Dania’s silent tears began to fall, soaking into the knees of her jeans. Her face was scrubbed clean and I realized it had been a long time since I had seen her with make up. She no longer dressed like she was headed to work on a street corner. She had gotten rid of her short skirts and slutty halter-tops in exchange for sweat pants and T-shirts. She looked a lot younger, but her eyes gave her away. They held a pain and awareness that looked a lot like what I saw when I looked in the mirror.
“I’m not cut out to be a mother. Look what I’ve already done to him,” she said sadly.
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t learn, Dania. That’s what the service plan is for. To help you become the mother he needs you to be,” I argued.
Dania shook her head, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “It’s not fair to Brandon, Ells. I don’t know that I’ll ever be the sort of mother that he deserves. He needs someone who will put him first, always. I can’t do that. You know I’m not capable of being someone’s mother. Fuck, I can barely take care of myself,” she snapped.
“But you could…” I started but she lifted her hand, silencing me.
“I know what you’re doing, Ellie, and while I appreciate it, it’s unnecessary. You’re a good friend. A better friend than I’ve ever been to you. After everything I’ve done, here you are, letting me invade your life and your space after I said all of that horrible stuff to you. Stuff that I didn’t really mean. It was mostly my own insecure bull crap. I’ve always been jealous of you, Ells. I always knew you were better than this. But I was too scared to lose you. I wanted you to be just as stuck and miserable as I was. Like I said, I’m a shitty friend. Always have been.”
Well, I wasn’t going to argue with her. She had been a shitty friend. Her confession didn’t surprise me, but the fact that she had given it did. And I couldn’t forget about the things she had done for me.
“Yeah, you’ve been pretty bitchy, but you were also the only person to see me in juvie. You helped me get on my feet when I got out. You were there, Dania. Don’t forget about that,” I told her.
Dania sighed and unfolded her legs. “The point is I’m incapable of really loving anyone. Hell, I don’t even love myself. So what chance does that baby have with a mother like me?”
“So what are you going to do?” I asked her.
“I’m signing over my parental rights. Since I don’t know who his father is, it’s only me that stands in the way of Brandon having a really good home. A better one than you or I ever had. After seeing him, it became real. I couldn’t shove my head in the sand anymore and hope it would all go away. And I couldn’t stomach the thought of him going into the system and ending like me. Or worse, eventually coming to live with me and I wouldn’t be able to handle it. What if I left him the way my mom left me? I can’t do that to him! Randa says they will be able to find him a good home. That he will be with parents who love him and want him.” Dania sniffled and wiped her nose.
My eyes were stinging with tears, hardly able to believe what I was hearing.
Dania was giving up her baby. And she was doing it for completely selfless reasons.
I reached out and took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know this hurts, Dania. And you still have time to change your mind, you know,” I said.
“No, this is the right thing to do for Brandon. I won’t change my mind,” she said emphatically. I held her hand for a while and then she gave me a watery smile.
“The next step is to get out of your hair. I know I have to be driving you nuts. I need to get my own place and figure out what I’m going to do. And then I’m going to burn all of my pajamas. I never want to see them again,” she said and I laughed.
“I’ll build the fire,” I teased.
Dania smoothed down her hair. It was a relief to see her finally snapping out of her funk. And to see her coming out of it better than I had ever seen her before. Seeing her son had done something to h
er. It had changed her.
She picked up the pile of mail and started going through it. “What’s this?” she asked, holding up my acceptance letter. I reached out and tried to take it from her.
“It’s nothing,” I said but she pulled it out of my grasp.
“It doesn’t look like nothing, Ells. It says it’s from the College of Baltimore. And it says congratulations on the top. What is it?” she asked, frowning at me.
It was my turn to sigh deeply.
“I got accepted to go to school there,” I told her. Dania stared down at the letter, reading it.
“This says you’re eligible for financial assistance. That the government can help you pay for it. Is that right?” she asked, pointing at the words I had already read.
I shrugged. “I guess so. I’m just not sure I want to go.”
“And why not?” she demanded me, sounding angry.
“Why are we talking about this at all? Drop it!” I warned her.
Dania’s eyes flashed. I hadn’t seen her this worked up in a long time. The last few months she had been asleep. Now I was seeing her finally wake up back up.
“I will not fucking drop it! Don’t you dare use me as an excuse for you not doing what you want to do!” she hissed.
“I’m not blaming you,” I argued.
“The hell you’re not. You’ve been walking around on eggshells for months. Treating me like a god damned two-year old!”
“Because you’ve been acting like a damn two-year old! I couldn’t exactly leave you when you could barely get out of bed!” I yelled, getting angry.
“Well I’m telling you to leave! I don’t want your help! I certainly don’t need it! I’m going to get my shit sorted. So go off to your boyfriend, tell him you’re going to school and you’re leaving me and this shit hole behind!” she yelled back.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” I muttered petulantly, making Dania snort.
“You don’t need to stick around because of me. I’m not disabled. Ride off into your cherry fucking sunset. Live your fancy schmancy life, go to school, and be better than the rest of us. You know you want to.” Dania rolled her eyes.
And I knew what she was doing.
She was giving me her blessing. Even if she being the biggest bitch on the planet in order to do it.
“Fine! I will!” I huffed, going along, knowing this made it easier for Dania to let me go.
“Good, because I’m sick of living with you. I need my own space,” Dania grabbed the bowls off the coffee table and stomped into the kitchen. I heard a crash as she slammed them into the sink.
Dania’s unexpected encouragement had renewed my hope. And she was right. I was using her as an excuse because I was scared. Isn’t that what it always came back to? My fear?
With the threads tying me here loosening and letting me go, I knew there was someone I still had to see. Someone who I had let down and disappointed but was the only person I wanted to share this accomplishment with, in spite of everything. I didn’t even know if he would see me. He may yell at me and tell me to leave.
But I needed to see Flynn. Because of anyone, I knew he had wanted this to me almost more than I had wanted it myself.
I picked up my acceptance letter and folded it up, putting it in my pocket. I poked my head into the kitchen. Dania was scrubbing the dishes, using a bit more force than was necessary.
“Hey,” I called out. Dania didn’t turn around, but she stopped her vicious scrubbing.
“I’m heading out. But…thanks,” I said and left the kitchen, hoping she knew exactly what I was thanking her for.
I was thanking her for being the friend I needed her to be.
“You’re welcome,” I heard Dania say softly as I walked out the door.
-Ellie-
The drive to Flynn’s house felt longer than normal. It had been months since he had come into JAC’s and had screamed at me to leave him alone. I thought a lot about the look on his face and it would cut me each and every time.
His pain and anger had forced me to keep my distance. I thought it was the right thing to do. I had been wrong. I should never have let a single day pass without seeing him.
I was an idiot.
An idiot who wasn’t sure I’d be able to repair the damage caused by my pride and urge to self-destruct.
Spring was in the air and heading up the long drive way to Flynn’s house I could see the blossoms on the apple tree and the daffodils lining the side of the road.
I saw Flynn’s car and knew he was home. My palms were slick on the steering wheel as I parked. I sat in the driver’s seat for a long time, trying to think of exactly what I came here to say.
I’m a dumbass. Forgive me?
Or how about please excuse my chronic case of ruineverythingitis. I’m all better now. Give me another chance?
A knock on the window almost gave me a heart attack. I looked up to see Flynn peering down at me; his head cocked to the side, his brow furrowed.
I rolled down the window.
“Hi,” I said, my mouth dry.
“Are you going to get out the car?” he asked, direct and blunt as always.
I bit down on my lip so I wouldn’t smile and pulled my keys out of the ignition. I climbed out of my car and was almost barreled over by Murphy, who was extremely happy to see me.
“Hiya, boy!” I gasped as he planted his giant paws into the middle of my stomach. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and his tail wagged frantically. I scratched behind his ears and he leaned into my hand.
“He missed you,” Flynn said. I looked at him but he wasn’t smiling. His face was blank, not giving anything away.
“Yeah,” was all I could say.
“Why are you here?” he asked, not giving me anytime to get my bearings. I dropped my hand from the top of Murphy’s head.
“To see you,” I told him honestly.
“Why?” he asked, his frown deepening.
“Because I needed to,” I replied, my hands starting to shake.
Flynn didn’t say anything for a long time. Time seemed to freeze as we stood there, neither sure of the other’s intentions.
“I was wrong, Flynn. I was so very wrong. Can we talk?” I asked.
Flynn shook his head. “You hurt me, Ellie. You always hurt me. You need to go,” he said, dropping his head and staring at the ground.
This was usually a clear indicator that I shouldn’t push him. But I couldn’t leave. Not now.
“Please, Flynn. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to talk to you. And then if you want me to leave, I will,” I promised.
Flynn turned around and started walking back to the house. I wasn’t sure if I should follow him. Murphy sat at my feet, looking after Flynn, clearly as confused as I was.
“Come on Murphy. You too, Ellie,” he called back. And then, without bothering to wait for me to catch up, he went into the house.
Murphy and I followed after him.
Flynn was in the kitchen slicing up some banana bread when I walked inside. He handed me a plate, which I took without thinking. “I just made it. Eat,” he said, my mouth watering from the rich homey smell.
“Thanks,” I said, standing awkwardly while Flynn began to scarf down his bread. I wasn’t hungry. My stomach was twisted in knots.
Flynn let the silence hang there, never bothered by quiet the way others were. Under normal circumstances I would allow myself to fall into the ease of it. But this was anything but normal circumstances.
“I’m sorry, Flynn,” I said.
“We say that a lot to each other. You and me. It’s always I’m sorry. I’m tired of being sorry. Why can’t we just be nice to each other so we don’t have to say it all the time?” he asked and I was struck mute by his statement.
Because he was right.
And then he went on and if I had been shocked by his word before, nothing prepared me for what he said next.
“You burned my house down. I knew that already. I knew that after you did it.
Reggie told me you had gone to jail because of it. My mom wouldn’t tell me. And I was mad for a long time. I cried a lot after I found out. But then we moved away and I stopped hurting so much. I don’t know if it’s because we weren’t in Wellsburg or if I had started to forgive you. But one day I wasn’t mad at you anymore. And then all I could remember when I thought about you was watching television and eating banana bread and laughing at stupid jokes. I would think of you smiling and it made me happy.”
I sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. His forgiveness, so easily given, humbled me.
“You knew?” I asked softly, clarifying the truth.
Flynn nodded, eating another bite of his banana bread. “I don’t know why you told me that when we were at the beach. And then you stopped talking to me. I didn’t understand. I know I don’t get a lot but I thought we enjoyed being together. You told me you loved me. And then you were gone. I don’t like feeling that way, Ellie. I’m tired of feeling mad and sad and wanting to hit things. Kevin says that good relationships are based on communication. I want to communicate with you. I want us to be happy.” He carried on calmly, not raising his voice. He was rote and monotone as though reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. But I knew every word…every syllable, was absolute.
“I like it when you’re here. I like listening to you play the guitar and try to sing even though you have a horrible voice. I like riding in the car with you, even when you ask me to turn off my music. And I wouldn’t mind, because I’d rather hear you talk than listen to The Cure.” I was crying in earnest now, too overwhelmed to say anything. Flynn watched my face closely and then he slowly reached out and took my hand. He wrapped his hand around mine. It was safe and warm and exactly where I wanted to be.
“I don’t want you to stop talking to me because I hear everything you say. And I like sleeping next to you and holding your hand. It makes my heart beat fast when I touch you. I’ve only ever felt that way with you, Ellie.”
I pushed my plate away and leaned across the table. “I like all those things too and I hate how I’ve been. But I’m messed up, Flynn. I have a lot of issues. And those issues hurt. Not only me but you too. I don’t know how to stop it, but I do know that I want to be with you.”
Reclaiming the Sand Page 30