First Love

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First Love Page 16

by G. L. Snodgrass


  “This one is a reddish brown, the color of your hair. Soft and smooth. I got it by a lake in Kansas. You would have liked it there Mom. It was pretty, with a light wind. The kind that was just enough to keep you cool without making you cold. Remember.”

  My mom didn’t answer. Didn’t let me know everything would be all right. Silence. That was what the world had for me.

  Sasha stepped next to me and curled her arm around my middle to give me a hug. Her eyes were red and she sniffled but she looked up at me a smiled. “She remembers. Your mom will never forget you.”

  We stood there for several minutes. Letting the world move on. Taking comfort in each other for a few moments. Finally I ran a hand across my eyes and said, “We need to go,”

  She nodded then buried herself in my arms and cried again. I’m sure she was thinking about her own mother. But she was also sad for me. I could tell by the way she looked at me. That meant something. It meant a lot.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sasha

  The campgrounds were nice. Buried in pine trees next to the Holston River. Michael had left to walk next to the river. His head bent, hands behind his back. Lost in thoughts of his mom. He had told me that this was where his mom’s people were from. Scots-Irish, they’d moved into this valley before the revolutionary war.

  I thought of my dad and wondered where in Russia he was from. He’d never told me.

  Michael had gotten everything set up, cooked dinner, then left me alone with the fire. He’d had been quiet since we left the cemetery. Quieter than normal. I’m sure he’d been lost in memories. My heart broke for him. I knew how hard missing mother thoughts could be.

  The flickering flames held my attention as my mind drifted over the last few days. How lucky I had been that he’d stopped. Not only because it was the side of the road in an Arizona desert. But because I had gotten a chance to meet a special person. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks. I knew that no matter what happened from here on out. I would never forget this road trip. It was a turning point for me.

  Then there was tomorrow. I was excited and afraid about seeing my mom again. Would she remember me? Was she really better?

  I wiped a tear away and glanced over at the tent. My heart seemed to clench up. I wanted him so much but it frightened me like nothing else ever had. A gut deep fear. What was I going to do when he left? Who would make me laugh? Who would I argue with? I’d never felt like this before. Could a person fall in love in only a few days?

  “I’m going to sleep outside tonight,” he said as he approached the camp. I hadn’t heard him come back. That’s how lost in my own thoughts I was.

  “Outside? Are you sure.”

  “Yeah, it won’t be the first time,” he said with a chuckle as he retrieved his blankets and made up a pallet next to the fire. Once he was done he pulled his guitar case out of the back of the truck and sat down cross legged by the fire and began to play a soft tune.

  My pulse jumped. He was so good. Soft, smooth, with a touch of perfection. His head bent over the guitar he followed his fingers. Lost in his own world. Singing softly under his breath. I felt my insides let go and marveled. I loved him. There was no doubt. I loved him and I was going to break into a million pieces when he left.

  He played for almost an hour without taking a break. I knew some of the songs but I’m sure that others were his own. He’d transition from one song to another without missing a beat. Occasionally he’d look up and smile at me, including me in his world.

  I sat there, entranced as he wove spells around me. He started “Yesterday” by the Beatles and I knew it was for his mom. The gentle rumble of the flowing river and the chirping of crickets provided the backup to his heavenly sound. I could see in his easy smile that he had reached some kind of acceptance. Some adult form of closure. I was happy for him.

  I spent that night alone in the tent. Tossing and turning as I thought about what was not happening. A dozen times I threw the blankets back to go out there to him but each time I hesitated. Stopped. Held back my desires. I would think about tomorrow and watching him walk away. Then I’d think about creating memories that I could hold forever. Should I do that? Was it better to have the memories and the regrets of losing him? Or just the regrets of what might have been.

  While I wrestled with these world ending questions he promptly fell asleep. His gentle snoring ended any chance of me changing my mind. I was mad at him for taking that away but also happy to be relieved of the responsibility. This was, fifty years from now I could blame him for nothing happening.

  .o0o.

  After three days on the road, Philadelphia felt crowded. Noisy, crammed full of people and cars. It smelled of exhaust, hot asphalt, and garbage. Everything tight and encroaching. I’d spent the morning wringing my hands, afraid of what was going to happen. Terrified of Michael leaving. The idea of a tomorrow without Michael in it was just unthinkable.

  I glanced over at him. It took every part of my strength to not reach over and touch his shoulder. That’s all I wanted to do, touch him. Make sure he was real. Let him know I was here. I didn’t though. Of course not. Instead I put on my haughty Ice Princess look and focused on my mom and what was to come.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said with a soft smile.

  He could read me like a book.

  “Do you think they’ll have someone there to try and stop me seeing her? What if they’ve taken her away? My dad could do that. Might do that,” I said.

  “Maybe, we’ll deal with it when we get there. I’ve got a couple of ideas.” That was Michael, always thinking ahead.

  Bent over the map we purchased, I fed him directions which he followed to the tee until we turned onto her street in the older part of town. A row of brownstone homes lined the street. Each one with a small porch enclosed with a black iron railing. My heart came to a screeching halt. We were here.

  Michael parallel parked flawlessly about two blocks from her house then turned the engine off and turned to me.

  “Stay here. Let me go check it out. I’ll be right back.”

  I wanted to yell at him to not go. That we should just keep on driving. Spend our life driving around. These last few days had been so fun, so emotional. I wanted to do it forever. Instead I bit my lip and nodded. I couldn’t put this off any longer, my mom needed me I realized. And cringed in shame. Only three days earlier I had been willing to leave home on a wing and a prayer – and twenty six dollars – only to think about throwing it all away to spend more time with a guy. What kind of daughter did that make me?

  After only a few minutes Michael was back, jumping into the truck with a big smile. When I asked him if he’d seen anything? He held up a finger telling me to hold on for a second. He opened the glove compartment for his cell phone, inserted the battery and made a call.

  He smiled at me, held up his finger again as he waited for his call to go through.

  “Hello, no it’s not an emergency. - - Sure … Hello is this the police. … Yeah, I’d like to report two men who I think they’re going to commit a crime. … Well, they’ve been parked outside my house for two days. Just sitting in their car. I think I saw one of them with a gun. Taking it out and playing with.”

  Michael gave the policeman the address, answered a couple of more questions then hung up and smiled at me.

  “Now we wait and see if it works.”

  I sat back and tried to relax. No telling how long this might take. We sat there in silence, my heart beat counting off each second. Without thinking, without analyzing it to death, I blurted out what I really wanted to say.

  “We should go to a hotel.”

  “What?” Michael exclaimed as his brow narrowed in confusion. “Don’t worry, it won’t be long. You’re just nervous about seeing your mom. You look great.”

  “No Michael,” I said as I studied my lap. “It’s not that. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to say goodbye to you. Not without finishing what we started the other night. I don’t wan
t to go through life regretting it.” I clamped down on my mouth before I said too much. Every neighborhood sound vibrated through my brain while I waited for his answer.

  His furrowed brow had deepened even more as he processed what I said. Please say something. Like now. Before I turn into a puddle of mush.

  He cleared his throat and turned toward me. I couldn’t read what he was going to say. Why wasn’t he smiling? Starting the truck and racing out of here to the nearest motel. I thought that was what he wanted. What was with the pouting yesterday? Why wasn’t he jumping all over this? Why wasn’t he jumping all over me?

  I held my breath as my heart raced, pounding in my ears like a goblin’s anvil.

  He cleared his throat and smiled weakly. “I am going to regret this. You have no idea how much I am going to regret this.”

  My heart stopped, dead in its tracks. My face flushed enough to light a street lamp and the world exploded. He was going to turn me down. I couldn’t believe it.

  “I want to Sasha,” he continued gently. “Believe me, there is nothing I want more. You are the sexiest, most beautiful and interesting girl I have ever known and probably ever will know. But I can’t. Not now. Not like this.”

  Okay, it was official. I was the biggest fool in the world. My hand reached for the door handle. I couldn’t stay here like this. Not now.

  “Hold on Sunshine,” he said as he gently touched my shoulder. “I want to more than you will ever know. You need to see your mom first though. You were right the other night. We are saying good bye in a few hours.”

  What is a girl supposed to say to that?

  “If after, if you still want to, we can go on together to New York or anywhere else you want to. Of course you need to understand that if we continue on it will be as girlfriend and boyfriend. We’ll spend every night in each other’s arms and conquer the world together. But again, not now, not like this.”

  The idea of continuing with him had a sent a short thrill through me. But I knew he was trying to be nice. Trying to let me down gently. I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Didn’t know where to look. My face felt like it was on fire and I knew I was beet red. Exposed. Vulnerable.

  I couldn’t leave. Not like this. We had come too far. Been through too much together. He deserved to be there for the end.

  Before I could say any more to get myself into a deeper hole a police car slowly passed us and continued up the block to double park slightly behind a black BMW. I forgot about my embarrassment. Or at least I was able to put it aside as I focused on what was going on.

  The police made the two men get out of the car and stand on the sidewalk. Both were very big and very pissed off, never a good combination. While one of the cops ran their paperwork through the database the other stood before the big guys. Scowling at them like they were ape’s invading earth.

  I almost felt sorry for them. The other cop finally returned and waved down the road. Obviously telling them to move on and leave the neighborhood. Neither of the big men looked happy about it. I think they were going to give the cops a hard time but decided that common sense was the better part of valor and backed off. Within a minute they were in their car and down the road. The police car following them to make sure they left.

  Michael smiled. Started the truck and within minutes had pulled into their spot. He turned to me.

  “Can I come?”

  I couldn’t swallow. He had rejected me, what if my mom did the same thing. I had become paralyzed. What happened to Ms. Tough Girl? Were had all my strength gone to.

  Mustering what little self-respect I had I nodded and said, “Please, She’ll like you.”

  The faded red front door stood before me like a castle wall. I glanced over at Michael, my Michael. I was so glad he was here. Even after he had crushed my soul. I needed him here. Taking a deep breath I knocked.

  Nothing, we waited. I should turn and leave. She wasn’t here. Maybe she moved. What if she attacked me? The memories of that night crawled into my brain and refused to leave.

  At last the door opened to show a middle aged woman with too many miles on too few years. Gray hair, wrinkles that creased the corners of her eyes and translucent pasty skin. As if she’d never seen the sun. Even under all that age I could tell it was my mother. Her eyes slowly focused on my face.

  “Hi mom, it’s me, Natasha.”

  I held my breath as her mind processed what I said. It must have been a shock. She didn’t recognize me. How was it possible for a mother not to recognize her daughter? Was she still insane? What had they done to her?

  Finally, the light bulb clicked on. Her eyes widened in shock and a smile as big as home erupted across her face as she pulled me into a bone crushing hug. My own arms went around her as I started bawling.

  “Natasha, my Natasha,” she kept mumbling as we cried on each other’s shoulder. Finally she broke, wiped her eyes. She was all there I realized. This was my mom from before. From before the crazy time. My soul soared, everything was going to be okay.

  “Come in, please come in,” she said as she shot Michael an appraising look.

  “Mom, this is Michael, he helped me get here.” I didn’t say boyfriend like I wished I could have. Didn’t even say friend. I didn’t want her getting the wrong idea.

  “He’s got to leave in a little bit, but maybe we could come in. Rest for a while before he has to get on the road again.”

  “Of course,” she said as she pulled us inside. The house was old and smelled of Vic’s vapor rub and old newspapers. It was furnished sparingly with cheap, mismatched furniture.

  “I can’t believe you came. That your father let you,” She said as she started to make a pot of coffee.

  “Um, dad didn’t let me. I came anyway.”

  Mom turned away from the sink with the pot of coffee in her hand. “Sasha, what have you done? You shouldn’t disobey your father like that.”

  I couldn’t believe it. After all this and she’s worried about me disobeying my dad.

  “Mom, I’m eighteen. I don’t need his permission.”

  She looked at me for a moment then nodded. “Yes, of course. I understand. Here, please sit,” she said indicating the Formica-top table in the middle of her small kitchen. Both Michael and I sat down.

  “Besides Mom,” I continued. “I read your letters. You said you wanted to see me. Needed me.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said as she looked out the window. The full coffee pot still in her hand. A silence fell over us as she became lost in thought.

  “Mom, are you okay?” I asked. A small inkling of fear began to build in the bottom of my stomach.

  “What,” she said coming back to this reality. “What, yes of course. Here let me make some coffee. You must be tired.”

  I watched her for a moment. Something wasn’t right. This didn’t look like the same lady who had written those letters.

  “Mom, I read your letters. All of them. That’s why I am here. I didn’t know they had let you out.”

  “Oh yes, they let me go. I was wrong honey. So wrong. What I did to you. How can you ever forgive me?” It was as if a dam broke letting loose a thousand gallons of guilt. She started crying, a hard ugly cry that racked her body. My heart broke. That was what I had wanted. All I ever wanted. For her to regret what she’d done. My Mother was back.

  I jumped out of my chair and hugged her as she had hugged me when I was a little girl. “That’s okay mom. I forgive you. I really, really do. I forgive you,” I said over and over again as we rocked back and forth.

  Finally the coffee stopped dripping and she turned away from me, wiping her eyes. I glanced over at Michael and I swear there was a tear in his eye. He looked like a little puppy, concerned that I wasn’t happy. Couldn’t he see? I was as happy as a person could ever be. My mom was sorry.

  She poured out three cups. Placed them on the table, retrieved a small carton of cream and a bowl of sugar then smiled at me. “I was so wrong, how could I ever
believe them.”

  A sharp pain sliced through me. I knew she was talking about the voices in her head. A fear flashed through me. She hadn’t said that they weren’t real. She was saying they were wrong.

  “What do you mean mom?” I asked as I took her hand.

  “The voices honey, they were wrong.”

  My heart sunk to the depths of hell. How was this possible?

  “Are you taking any medication Mrs. Stanislav,” Michael asked. “Did you take them today?”

  My mom stared at him for a moment then a short look of fear appeared on her face. I wondered if she was seeing a demon before her. The fear was replaced by a look of confusion.

  “Medicine, yes, the Doctors said I had to take it if I wanted to leave. But I don’t like it. Fuzzy, the world becomes fuzzy when I take it.”

  “Did you take it today?” Michael asked as he shot me a look of concern. How could he be so calm?

  Her eyes darted around the room as she nodded her head. “Yes, Yes I took it. If I don’t they will send me back. I took it I promise.” She gripped her coffee cup with white knuckles and peered into it like it would provide the answers she needed.

  “Mom, come sit down, talk to me. Please. I’ve missed you.”

  She seemed to forget her distractions and sat next to me. Touching my cheek, smiling. What was the truth, which woman was my mother? This sweet woman or the other one.

  “Tell me mom. Why were they wrong? What did you mean?”

  “Sasha,” Michael hissed. I just shook my head at him and concentrated on my mother.

  “Tell me mom. What did you mean?”

  She stared off into space, I thought I had lost her again but slowly she returned. Her eyes became normal and a relaxed smile spread across her face.

  “I haven’t told anyone. You must promise not to tell. Not the doctors, not your dad, no one. Do you understand?” She looked into my eyes begging me.

  “I understand mom.”

  She hesitated a moment, took a breath and then began to tell me, “I was wrong, so wrong. You weren’t a demon. How could I ever believe that? My little baby, such a sweet girl, beautiful, pure. No you weren’t a demon.”

 

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