A Penny on the Tracks

by Alicia Joseph

  “You’re not on your own. Abbey, you’re staying with me. With us.”

  Abbey shot to her feet. “That’s a temporary fix. Don’t you see? No matter where I stay I’ll still have a father who replaced me and doesn’t care if he ever sees me again, and a mother in the loony bin.” She stared at me. With a softer, but sober tone, she continued. “And a best friend who lies right in my face. You treated me like a fool. We were all friends. You could have told me. You should have told me. Instead, you and Jess put on an act just like my father did. No one is what they seem. My father sneaking away to his other family. My mom pretending to be the happy wife and mother, but was sneaking bottles all my life because she was fucking miserable. She never did find that fountain of youth she was desperately looking for. And you, while I couldn’t sleep last night, I lay there recalling all those times we spent gushing over our favorite rockers and how cute we thought they were—Jon Bon Jovi, Mike Tramp, Kip Winger, Brett Michaels—you acted like you couldn’t wait to get your hands on any of those guys. Was that just to throw me off? Well it fucking worked. You fooled me. Just like everyone else did.”

  I’d never heard Abbey curse like that before. I jumped to my feet. “Maybe I was trying to fool myself. I knew the way I was feeling, what I really was, even way back when I had posters of cute rockers hanging all over my walls. And maybe I was scared because I didn’t want to be that way and I thought the more I talked about how cute boys were, I’d be able to trick my mind into liking them. But that didn’t work. I was always like this. Don’t you understand, Ab? I thought all those guys on my posters were cute. I didn’t lie about that. But I didn’t fantasize being with them in any romantic way. I fantasized being them. I wanted the sexy girls screaming for me. Yet, I still tried liking a boy freshman year.”

  “James,” Abbey chimed.

  “That’s right. James. It didn’t go very well. And then I met Jess, and it was obvious there was no amount of talking about guys that could have masked the way she made me feel. But don’t you see? This wasn’t about you. This was about me. My sexuality. Mine. I would have told you when the time was right, but I needed to live with being who I was a little longer, you know? I figured you’d have all kinds of questions when I told you, and I wasn’t sure I’d have all the answers.”

  Abbey’s red eyes appeared to sting with tears. “You treated me like a fool.”

  I sighed. “No, Abbey. I didn’t. Weren’t you just listening to me?”

  “You lied to me. You let me believe something that wasn’t true.”

  “Abbey, I ju—”

  “Just like my dad.”

  “Now wait a minute. I am nothing like your father. This is nowhere near the same thing he did.”

  “How is it different? Just proves nobody’s what they say they are. Nothing’s as it seems. I see that now. I just couldn’t see it then. My best friend was a lesbian right in front of my eyes, and I didn’t see it. My father had a whole other family for a fucking decade, and I didn’t see it. My mother was an alcoholic right in front of me, and I couldn’t see it, but you did. This is why I’m going to community college—because I’m fucking stupid.”

  “You are not stupid. There was no way you could have known about me or your father. As for your mom, it was there, you just didn’t want to see it, but I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to see it either if it were my mom.”

  “Everyone lies,” she said.

  I looked at her. “I didn’t lie to you. I was just a kid. I didn’t know what I was.”

  “I mean now. You knew now and you never told me. You did it behind my back, like everyone else.”

  She turned away from me and started crying.

  “Abbey, please don’t do that. One day you’ll see my situation is nothing like your parents’. I’m sorry that your father had this whole other life. But that’s on him, not you.”

  Abbey turned around and wiped her face. “My mother drank herself into oblivion. My father’s gone for good. I’m actually surprised he stuck around as long as he did. The fake business trips he packed for grew more frequent over the years. He’d clearly chosen that family over ours—those kids over me—a long time ago. Before they hauled my mother away, she was so loaded, she was screaming, ‘Why’d you leave?’ ‘When are you coming back?’ And then, right before Mrs. Kasper and her husband put my mom in the back seat of their car, she yelled out, ‘I knew what you were doing all along, asshole! I knew you were up to no good!’ And you know what, Lyssa? I believe she did know. I think he was the reason my mother started drinking all those years ago. Being drunk all the time makes it easier to close your eyes to what’s happening right in front of you. But she knew. It’s why she tried so hard to stay young. A woman has to know when her husband stops loving her, if he ever loved her in the first place.

  “The only reason my dad didn’t completely leave and divorce my mom was so he could stave off alimony payments as long as he could. I’m eighteen now. No child support. That’s not a coincidence. Everything he did was calculated for economical reasons. I don’t remember one time my father coming home from what we thought was a long business trip and hugging me or telling me that he missed me—not even when I was little. He would have left me forever a long time ago if it wouldn’t have cost him a penny.”

  Abbey walked away from me. “I don’t want to ever be that stupid again, but that’s how you make me feel. All that time, of us hanging out and the two of you were together and I had no idea.”

  “Abbey, I had to deal with this on my own. I told you, I needed to live with it for a little while and be with Jess before I went around telling people.”

  “I’m not people Lyssa. I’m your best friend.”

  “I didn’t think you’d understand.”

  “You didn’t trust me enough to understand.”

  I took a step closer to her. “Maybe I wasn’t sure how you’d react and I didn’t want to let you down, if finding out your best friend is a lesbian lets you down.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  I smiled softly at her. “Thank you. But you’re dealing with a lot right now. Talking about me seems miniscule compared to everything else. We graduate tomorrow and even that seems irrelevant.”

  “I’m not going,” she said.

  “I didn’t think you would. Stay here tonight.”

  She shook her head. “I need to be home in case anyone from that place calls.”

  “Then I’ll stay by you.”

  “No. Stay here. I want to be alone tonight. I freaked out a bit when I saw my mom being taken away, and I needed to talk to my best friend, but I feel better now. So I’m gonna go.”

  “Will you at least have dinner with us?” I asked.

  Abbey turned around and smiled a serene smile at me. “I remember all the dinners I ate with you, your mom, and Franklin. I enjoyed them. Franklin’s a good man. I always liked him. I know you were self-conscious about growing up without a dad. But you just had to wait a little bit longer than most of us for your father to come around. But you ended up with a nice family.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. I’d never heard Abbey talk this way before. She sounded so grown up, and maybe if this were the Abbey I had known most my life, rather than the Abbey who called in the middle of the night because she heard a chair move, I’d have felt more secure confiding in her about Jess and me. But this wasn’t the Abbey I was used to.

  WE STOOD IN my driveway. Abbey wouldn’t stay for dinner, nor would she stay just to hang out in my room and listen to music like we’d done a million times before, no matter how hard I begged her. I used to be able to sway Abbey to do anything I wanted, but apparently those days were over.

  I didn’t want her to be alone; maybe because I was sure I wouldn’t have wanted to be alone if this were happening to me.

  “Do you want me to ride with you? Make sure you get home okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I knew I was being pushy, but I didn’t care. I needed my best fr
iend to need me. Times like these were when Abbey needed me the most, but now she seemed to not need me at all.

  “I’m fine. I can drive home alone.”

  “Then I’ll come over tomorrow.”

  “You have graduation,” she said.

  “Fuck graduation.”

  “You can’t miss graduation.”

  “It’s just a stupid ceremony. They hand out a piece of paper and we throw our caps in the air.”

  “There’s a little more to it than that. Your mom’ll want you to be at graduation.” Abbey walked away from me.

  With an air of confidence I’d never seen in her before, I watched Abbey get inside her car and disappear down the street into the late evening darkness.

  She was gone.

  “WHAT DO YOU mean you’re not going to graduation?” My mother followed me down the hall and into my room.

  I plopped onto my bed and opened a magazine. She sat beside me, plucked the magazine from my hands, and tossed it to the side.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Abbey’s not going. And neither am I.”

  My mother smoothed her hand gently over my leg. “Honey, I know you want to be loyal to your friend. You want to help her as much as you can. I get it. I really do. My heart breaks for Abbey. I wish this wasn’t happening to her. But I’m your mother and I want to see my only child graduate from high school. Please don’t take that moment away from me.”

  “It’s just a stupid ceremony.”

  “Graduation is not just a stupid ceremony. It’s a celebration. You may not think so now, but when you’re handed that diploma, you’re going to be filled with an enormous sense of accomplishment. You’ll feel there’s nothing in the world you can’t do.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Mom. Give me a break. Half the kids in my class are rejects. Being handed the same piece of paper as them won’t make me feel very triumphant.”

  “Then do it for me,” my mother pleaded.

  I LAY ON my bed as the rain smacked hard against my bedroom window. I pulled back the curtain and watched as golf ball-sized hail dropped from the sky. “Can I see you tonight?” I whispered into the phone.

  Ever since all the drama with Abbey’s family happened, I felt my mother hovering over me, watching me to be sure I was okay. I didn’t trust that she was somewhere out of ear shot as I lay back onto my bed. I had to be extra quiet talking to Jess.

  “We have a big day tomorrow,” Jess replied. “God, I hope it stops raining by then.”

  “I take it that’s a no?”

  “It’s a I want to but don’t know if I can. My aunt’s coming over in a little bit. She has some special gift she wants to give me. I’m supposed to wear it for the ceremony. I think it’s something my grandmother gave her before she died.”

  “That’s pretty serious.”

  “I know. She doesn’t have any kids of her own. So she gets very sentimental with me.” Jess paused. “Did they really take Abbey’s mom away to some institution?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And Abbey saw all this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “She has got to be a wreck.”

  “You would think. I mean, she’s not great, but she isn’t falling apart like I expected her to. She doesn’t need me. She wanted to be alone again tonight.”

  “You’re her best friend. She’ll always need you.”

  “I feel I let her down way too much for her to ever trust me again,” I said.

  “Baby, you sound really sad. Maybe my aunt won’t stay too long and we can see each other later.”

  “It’s okay. Spend time with your family. Don’t rush your aunt out the door.” I relaxed deeper into my bed. “Listening to all this rain’s actually making me kinda tired. I’m gonna lay here for a bit and then maybe watch TV with my mom and Franklin. I’ll call Abbey in a little while.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Have a good time with your aunt. I’ll call you before I go to bed.”

  “Okay.”

  “I love you,” I said in a low voice.

  “I love you, too,” Jess said.

  Chapter Twenty

  FRANKLIN AND MY mother were playing cards at the kitchen table when I walked into the room for an iced tea.

  “Gin,” my mother said.

  “Again?” Franklin yelled out. “That’s six in a row. I’m done.”

  “What a big baby,” my mother said.

  Franklin let out a hearty laugh. “I’m not a baby. Just following Kenny Rogers’ advice and knowing when to fold ’em.”

  “Fine. Gimme your cards.”

  I closed the refrigerator door and sat down at the table as my mother collected the cards and stuffed them into their pack. I took a sip of my drink and then settled the bottle in front of me.

  “You ready for tomorrow?” Franklin asked and took a healthy swig of his beer.

  I ran my finger around the rim of my bottled tea. “Not much to be ready for. All I have to do is walk down an aisle and stand where they tell me to stand.”

  “I didn’t mean the procedure of it all.” Franklin placed his drink on the table. “Rather, are you ready to say goodbye to high school? Tomorrow’s the last time your class will all be together like that. From here on everyone goes their separate ways.”

  “Thank Christ. I hope I never have to see most of those idiots again in my life.” I took another sip of my tea. “I just want this whole damn thing to be over with so I can move on.”

  I stood from the table and caught a glimpse of the confused expression on Franklin’s face. My mother patted his hand gently.

  “Something happened with Abbey. I’ll tell you about it later,” my mother said as I left the room.

  “Hey.” My mother followed me into the hallway. She placed her hands on my shoulders, stopping me. “Have you gotten ahold of Abbey?”

  I turned to her and shook my head. “She’s not answering the phone. I’m just gonna go there.”

  “Maybe I should go with you,” she said.

  “Why? I don’t need you to come with.”

  My mother hugged her arms close to her body. “It’s late. I worry about you when you’re out when it’s late.”

  “It’s ten thirty,” I said with a bit of an attitude because in a couple months when I’m off at college, my mother wasn’t going to be able tell me when it was too late to go out.

  “I don’t want you missing your graduation tomorrow. And if you go to Abbey’s you’ll probably stay there. I know how the two of you get when you’re together. You girls forget time.”

  “Mom, I’ll be back for graduation. We won’t forget time.”

  “Just do me a favor and try calling her once more. Maybe now she’ll answer.”

  “Fine. I’ll call her again.” I walked to my room.

  I shut the door and shook my head at the idea of my mother comparing Abbey and me to when we were a couple irresponsible eleven-year-olds getting lost in time.

  I called Abbey.

  “Hello?” she said after three rings.

  “It’s me. Where you been?”

  “I went for a walk,” she answered.

  “Isn’t it a little late for a walk?” I asked, but then chided myself for sounding just like my mother.

  “I wanted to wait till it was really dark. I didn’t want anyone to see me.”

  “I would have come with you. You didn’t have to go alone.”

  “I wanted to go alone,” she replied very simply.

  “Okay.” It was hard to accept Abbey being so content with being alone while not seeming to need me at all. “My mom and Franklin are taking me to dinner after the ceremony tomorrow. You wanna come with us? You graduated, too. You deserve to celebrate.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Ab. What are you gonna do? Stay home all day? There’s nothing more you can do right now. Your mom needs to get better where she’s at first.”

  “I know.”

  “So will you come with us?
Please?”

  “I was gonna go visit her. The lady on the phone gave me the hours I could go.”

  “Are you ready for that?” I asked.

  “I think I am . . . No, I’m sure I am.”

  “You know, I was serious about getting a place for ourselves this summer. Maybe I could go to community college here with you. It’s not like I have my major set. I could take all the electives first and then transfer to Illinois State my junior year.”

  “No. Go to ISU now. Community college isn’t for you. You want outta here and the longer you stay, the harder it’ll be to leave.”

  “But, Abbey…” I began.

  “This is my life,” she said. “I know what I have to do. And I’m good with it.”

  I WOKE UP the next morning after having fallen asleep without calling Jess. We had made a routine of calling each other before bed each night, and last night was the first in a long time that I had fallen asleep without wishing her good night.

  After I had hung up with Abbey, I’d climbed into bed with my headphones on and listened to music. I didn’t even remember falling asleep. The strap of the Walkman still clung around my head when I woke up.

  Black dress slacks and a cream button-down silk blouse was hanging on a hook behind my closet door, all pressed and ready to go. My mother must have quietly placed the outfit there this morning. Since I knew I’d be wearing my graduation gown most of the time and look just like everyone else, I didn’t see what the big deal was to dress all fancy. If it were up to me I’d wear ripped jeans and a Whitesnake shirt for old time’s sakes, but only if Abbey were standing beside me wearing a Warrant shirt. But I knew Abbey wouldn’t be beside me—the place she usually was.