The Optimist's Guide to Letting Go

by Amy E. Reichert

  “May and I are going to be inseparable this week, like peas and carrots. Like peanut butter and jelly. Like melted cheese and crispy bread.” May rolled her eyes and her mom saw it and looked hurt. May only felt a little guilty. “Anyway, she’ll be with me, so there won’t be any more shenanigans. I used to think chasing them around to make sure they didn’t run into traffic was the hard part,” her mom said.

  “Right? I feel like we need to watch them more now.” Dr. Patel pulled out her iPad, signaling she was moving into doctor mode. Thank God. “Now, Lorraine, let’s see how you’re doing.”

  She proceeded to ask her grandma yes and no questions, but May drifted off, thrilled that the uncomfortable portion of the day was officially over. She wished she could text Connor to see what his punishment was, if he was even getting punished. She may have avoided her friends for a year, but that had been by choice. It was totally different when the isolation was parent-induced.

  “Okay,” Dr. Patel said. “Your mom has made a bit of progress today. We’ll keep her here for a few more days to do more follow-up tests, then move her to a long-term rehab facility.”

  “Why can’t she come home with one of us?” her mom asked.

  Dr. Patel smiled, and Aunt Vicky looked a little alarmed. May seconded that opinion. Please say that’s a bad idea, please say that’s a bad idea. She knew who would be expected to help whenever she wasn’t at school.

  “I understand your wanting to help, but it’s too much. Trust me. You’d have to bring her to physical therapy every day for several hours, then be around to help her all night. You wouldn’t be able to work. Her insurance is good and covers the cost, so the best course of action is to take advantage of it, for everyone’s sanity and your mom’s safety.”

  Whew.

  She left and May returned to picking at her jeans. Her mom went back to asking Grandma questions she couldn’t answer. Why bother? How did no one else get that but her? Especially when she had hid their real dad from her mom and Aunt Vicky all their lives. She had heard stories about Grandpa Price but couldn’t really remember him. He died when she was still very young, but he sounded like a dud. Not mean, just not good grandpa material. She was glad she didn’t remember him. But Joe Sandowski. From what Aunt Roza said, he sounded like the kind of grandpa who would have picked up teaching her about engines now that her dad couldn’t.

  She pulled out the threads, listening as the grown-ups talked. Sometimes they would forget about her if she was quiet enough. She picked up a lot that way.

  “Are you going to spend the rest of the day here?” her mom asked Aunt Vicky.

  “It depends when Jeff gets here with the kids. Once they arrive, they can only maintain their best behavior for forty-five minutes. After that, they’ll need a change of scenery.” She got up from the comfy chair and walked to the windows. “I could take them to the park down there. They’ll need to get their wiggles out after the drive.”

  “He’s driving them up here?”

  “Apparently driving four hours round-trip is preferable to managing playdates and feeding them. Now that he’ll be on his own, I’ll be surprised if he even bothers to leave the office at all.”

  Her mom got up to stand next to Aunt Vicky.

  “I thought things were better?”

  “According to Victoria’s Secret, lingerie solves all the world’s problems. Their ads are lies.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her mom wrapped her arms around Aunt Vicky. “You let me know what you need.”

  “Nothing to need. The kids and I will keep doing our thing. I have a beautiful house, beautiful—if not slightly spoiled—children, and I don’t have to worry about paying bills.”

  “You deserve more than just security.”

  Aunt Vicky shrugged and stepped away from the window. It seemed like Uncle Jeff was being a jerk, but May was excited to see her cousins. Greta and Jake were old enough to play games with her, and the twins Maggie and Nathan were adorably snuggly and cute. Plus, they thought she was the coolest and basically did whatever she said. It was fun being idolized. Maybe she’d make some brownies with them.

  “I don’t think I have the energy for more. Some days, I’m barely handling this.”

  Grandma Lorraine watched. Her eyes following the conversation. I bet she would have a lot to say about Uncle Jeff if she could talk.

  “Why don’t you go grab a snack from the vending machine?” Aunt Vicky stood in front of her, holding out a few dollars and May’s phone. She must have swiped it from Mom’s hiding spot. “Maybe see what’s happening outside this room.” She winked. Aunt Vicky was the best! May grabbed the phone and escaped.

  She found the vending machines and bought a Twix and a water. She found the visitors’ lounge and tucked her feet under her. Having her phone back felt like a lifeline to the outside world, or eating ice cream after hours in a pool. She was whole again. Opening the Twix wrapper, she pulled out one of the sticks, nibbling off the chocolate and caramel on the top before gnawing the chocolate on the narrow sides of the cookie. Last, she would eat the nearly naked cookie, but only because she hadn’t yet found a good way to get the thin layer of remaining chocolate on the bottom. Her dad had taught her to eat Twix this way. They would share all the small ones she would get from trick-or-treating. Her mom would eat a Twix in two bites, like a savage.

  She had pulled out the second stick by the time her phone came back on and had started to receive messages. She had a screen full of texts, most from Connor and the rest from Olivia.

  Connor: U okay? What did your mom say?

  Connor: Let me know what’s up?

  Connor: RU grounded?

  Connor: I’m grounded for the rest of break. I regret nothing. Except the wine, that was gross.

  Connor: RU mad?

  Olivia: What happened!?!?!?!?! Connor said u aren’t talking to him???????

  Olivia: TEXT ME!!

  Olivia: YAM.

  Olivia: YAM.

  Olivia: YAAAAAAAMMMMMM.

  May rolled her eyes.

  Connor: Did u lose your phone?

  Connor: I want to watch more Buffy.

  May smiled at that last one. Did he really want to watch, or just kiss more? She wanted to kiss more.

  May to Conner: I do, too. Phone confiscated, but I have it for a second.

  May: Grounded, too. Mom was not happy and I had to apologize to your mom for making you drink wine. I’m sorry to you, too.

  Connor: Totally okay. Glad you aren’t mad at me.

  May: Definitely not mad.

  She wouldn’t text Olivia back yet. Having something special with Connor was like a secret. Even though she’d lost the rest of her break, it was nice to be alone with him, to feel normal, even to get in trouble.

  “May.” Aunt Vicky was walking toward her, her eyes wide, like she was trying to send a secret message. “Your mom wants to go.” Her mom was right behind her, leaving the room carrying their coats. May got the hint—she needed to get the phone back to Aunt Vicky without her mom seeing. She turned it off and walked toward Aunt Vicky, blocking her hands with her body, handed it off in the space between them where her mom couldn’t see.

  “Thanks,” she whispered.

  With her cousins, Aunt Vicky had a lot of rules, like no eating on the carpeting or Play-Doh on the carpeting, or any drinks on the carpeting. A lot of her rules had to do with carpeting, now that May thought about it. But Aunt Vicky bent the rules for her, which was awesome.

  May hated it here, too. Grilled G’s was set up outside Wauwatosa’s city hall, along with a few other trucks they saw often. She didn’t know how her mom stood working inside of a constant reminder of her dad. He had touched every surface. It smelled a little like him, too. She didn’t even like looking at the truck when it was in their driveway, and now she needed to spend hours in it.

  May hadn’t helped in the truck since last summer. Lunch was always short and frantic, two hours of hustling. In the summer, they sometimes did extend the h
ours at fests, but for a lunch, it was two hours, in and out.

  “You’ll be taking orders, register, and expediting, I’ll handle all the cooking, okay?” her mom said.

  “Fine.”

  “Do you remember how to run the register?”

  It was just an app. A chihuahua could be trained to use it.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m excited about having you here. It’s been too long since you’ve worked with me.”

  Her mom smiled like everything was perfect, but she wasn’t the one grounded and without a phone. Could her mom really be so delusional that she thought one little apology would fix everything?

  May didn’t respond.

  People were already lined up outside. Her mom had a pretty good system for prep, so May mostly stayed out of her way, stealing shreds of cheese.

  “It’s go time!” her mom said, opening the order window and pushing up the corners of her mouth to remind May to smile.

  May began taking orders and handing them to the waiting customers. She didn’t really mind this part, making sure each order had the right components. Her mom didn’t often miss something, but she loved catching her when she did.

  An older woman ordered a Classic grilled cheese and slid her the crumpled money to pay for it. Her mom looked over from the grill, suddenly alert to the customers.

  “Hey, Charlotte. How are you?”

  Wisps of hair stuck out from under her hat. May took the money, her mom already making the order before she’d even entered it into the register. When she slid the grilled cheese over, a corner was almost black. Her mom never burned food.

  “Mom? I think . . .”

  “Just give it to her.”

  Weird, but whatever. Maybe that was how the woman—Charlotte—liked them. May shrugged and handed it over.

  Charlotte took the sandwich without commenting on the black edge and stepped to the side to start eating. Her mom slid May two more aluminum foil-wrapped sandwiches that hadn’t been on anyone’s order.

  “When she complains that the sandwich is burned, give her these.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  Sure enough, Charlotte’s head appeared in front of May two seconds later.

  “This one’s burned.” She didn’t say please, and she’d eaten half the sandwich—the part with the burned spot. May wanted to tell her off for taking advantage of her mom.

  “May.” Her mom said her name, clipped, like a command.

  Her mom was giving away free food to this cranky old lady? Who knows. May gave her the sandwiches. Charlotte tucked them into a plastic bag looped on her arm and walked toward the truck next to them, On a Roll. What the hell?

  She turned to ask her mom about it, but her question was interrupted.

  “Hey, Yam!” Olivia said.

  Olivia and Hannah joined the line, wearing unzipped winter jackets with their hands jammed into their coat pockets. May waved to them before helping the next customer. Olivia smiled back at her, but Hannah’s lips were pursed, and she squinted at May. Or glared, would be more accurate. May felt the same about Hannah, because she guessed Olivia had told her about the kiss. News traveled fast.

  “Hi!” May said when they got to the front of the line. She was mostly happy to see Olivia—though she would have preferred a little less gossiping about her and Connor.

  “Hey, girls.” Her mom poked her head out the window. “Having a nice break?”

  They both nodded, and she went back to the grill.

  “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll take a grilled Mac n Chz. No pickle,” Olivia said.

  “Same. But, May”—Hannah dropped her voice to a whisper—“we don’t have money.” Olivia looked at Hannah, her eyes wide. “That’s okay, right? Because we’re friends?”

  May checked to make sure her mom wasn’t paying attention, her pits suddenly a little sweaty. Gross. She wasn’t supposed to give out free stuff, even to Aunt Vicky. But she also couldn’t say no. She had just started talking to Olivia again. And her mom did just give that old lady extra sandwiches for free. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal?

  “Sure. On the house.” She rang in the order so the order printed, then entered that they’d paid with cash. The drawer popped open, and she shut it again before it could open all the way. “Your number is twenty-five.” She handed them a laminated number. Hannah smiled like she had won, causing Olivia’s frown to deepen. Maybe May would spit on her sandwich.

  When she handed them their orders a few minutes later, spit-free, Olivia mouthed “Sorry” and they walked to the nearby park. She didn’t like how Hannah was bossing Olivia around, but May just hoped her mom hadn’t seen or she’d be in even more trouble.

  They finished the lunch rush, each eating a grilled cheese as May wiped down the surfaces and put away the ingredients, checking off her mom’s inventory list as she went. It was important everything went back where it belonged—knowing every item’s location was the only way her mom could work the truck by herself. Begrudgingly, May was a little impressed that her mom could do it alone.

  Her mom printed out the report for the day while counting the cash and reading the numbers as she munched, a string of cheese stretching from her mouth to the sandwich.

  “Why are we short? We only had one cash transaction today, but the cash isn’t there.”

  Crap, she’d forgotten to delete their order after it was done.

  “Huh?” May stalled for time.

  “Did you give free food to your friends?” Her mom tilted her head at her. “You know you can’t do that, right?”

  “But you did it.” The words were already out. She hadn’t wanted to do it, but she didn’t want Hannah to make a scene and call her uncool in front of Olivia and the line of customers. But she couldn’t tell her mom that. “You gave the cranky lady two free sandwiches. And she’d already eaten the burned part.”

  Her mom pinched the bridge of her nose. She only did that when she was really stressed.

  “Charlotte gives those extra sandwiches to people who don’t have food to eat, but she won’t accept handouts herself. I’ve tried. So this is how I try to help her. She is helping other people who really, really need it. Not giving sandwiches away to friends that probably had money in their pockets. The phone is mine for an extra week. No complaints.”

  Her mom turned her back to her, and May kept cleaning up in silence, frustrated that she hadn’t known how to handle Hannah, frustrated that she was now in even more trouble for something that wasn’t even that big of a deal, and frustrated she couldn’t explain it all to her mom.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Gina couldn’t wait for this day to be over. Between her mom finding a way to tell her that she had wrinkles even though she couldn’t actually speak, to her daughter giving away free food to her friends, she was done. Never mind that her dad was not actually her dad, but some other guy she had never even heard of, and her mom couldn’t elaborate on this beyond simple yes and no questions. Plus, Vicky thought she hadn’t noticed her sneak May her phone—but she had. She had let it slide at the time, thinking what’s the harm, but that girl was pushing one too many of her buttons today.

  Her entire body vibrated with rage or anxiety or irritation or all three. Gina leaned her head against the cool wall of the truck, hoping the chill stainless steel would ease the headache throbbing behind her eyes.

  She took a deep breath and focused on the biggest issue: Joseph Sandowski. Roza had told them only a little, clearly wanting to leave the full story to Lorraine. But Mother couldn’t speak, and Dr. Patel suggested she might never fully recover. Hell, she might not even live that much longer, given the statistics. How was she supposed to learn more about her real father if her mother couldn’t speak, or worse, died? The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. How could her mother lie to her for years and years and years on end?

  Her entire life, Gina had made excuses for why her mom never seemed hap
py—was never warm, was never satisfied. But she couldn’t make excuses for her anymore. This betrayal was too much.

  “Hey, G.” Daniel’s smiling face appeared in the window. “Am I too late?”

  Gina smiled. What a treat to see someone who wasn’t going to complicate her already complicated day. She’d already turned the grill off, but Daniel’s cheerful attitude might be exactly what she needed.

  “We turned off the grill,” May said before Gina could answer. Daniel’s smile melted like snow in April.

  “I can turn it back on for my best customer.” She flicked the switch. “Daniel, this is my daughter, May.”

  He waved at May, and she lifted a limp hand then turned her back to him. The teen years couldn’t finish soon enough.

  “I don’t want to keep you.” He looked back to Gina, seeming unfazed by May’s lack of civility.

  “Don’t worry, it won’t take long to get back up to temperature.”

  He smiled again.

  “You know, Daniel, I love that it doesn’t take much to make you happy. Unlike some people.” She looked over her shoulder at May, who slammed shut one of the cabinets with a clang. “I sure do need that today.”

  “A rough one?”

  “You have no idea.” She dropped some butter to melt on the griddle as it heated. “So, what can I get you?” She leaned on the counter so her face was more level with his. He set a jar next to her elbow—sriracha bacon jam. Brave man, to try spicy again. Gina smiled.

  “This one won’t even be difficult.” She slathered the jam on two pieces of thick white bread, then topped each side with American cheese slices, giving one slice a scoop of macaroni and cheese. While she waited for it to melt together, Daniel piped up.

  “You know.” Daniel’s eyes flicked between her and May. “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m all-ears.”

  “That’s very kind. I might take you up on that someday when it’s quieter.”

  May snapped around.

  “Sure, talk to some random guy about your daughter like I’m not even standing right here. Does he even know about Dad?”