by R. R. Banks
"Jason got out of detention because it was ridiculous that you gave it to him in the first place. Especially after he explained to you that he needed to go to that workout."
"You aren't doing him any favors by not holding him accountable for his actions. How can you possibly expect him to act like an adult when you aren't making him learn how to?"
I rolled my eyes, not believing that she was acting like this. What happened to the expressive, free woman who I couldn't get out of my mind?
"Are you serious? Even you have to admit that you are being absolutely ridiculous. You seriously think that he has somehow destroyed his future and any prospects that he has to be a responsible and successful adult? Why? Because he has a little bit of a cocky attitude? Guess what? He comes by it honestly. I do too unless you haven't noticed. And why? Because he didn't finish an assignment and he skipped a couple of classes? Who didn't act like that when they were in high school? I know I did."
"I didn't," she said.
I looked at her feeling at a loss for words. I felt like she was pushing me like she was escalating what should have been a non-issue just to get a rise out of me. I took a step closer to her.
"Back off Jason," I said. "Stop acting like you think that you're some hero and that he's a charity case. Just because he doesn't like you or your class doesn't mean that there's something wrong with him, and it doesn't mean that he doesn't have a future ahead of him that is just fine. Give him some time to settle in. He's been through more than your shiny little sugar-coated mind could ever comprehend."
I turned and walked out of the classroom, not stopping until I was back in my car. My tires squealed as I sped out of the parking lot and toward the firehouse. For the first time in my career, I found myself actually hoping that there would be an emergency call that night. I needed something to work off the rage and adrenaline that I was feeling.
Chapter Ten
Gwendolyn
"Can you believe that? I mean, seriously, can you believe that he actually did that?"
I was pacing through my living room with such hard, stomping steps that I wouldn't have been surprised to see that I had burned a path in the carpet. I turned and looked at The Reverend who was draped across the back of the couch and watching me go back and forth like a fish in an aquarium.
"Don't you think that he should have mentioned to me that he was the father of a teenage son? Beyond that, that he was the father of a teenage son who was in my class at school?" I thought about that for a few seconds and gave a resigned shake of my head. "I mean, it's not like he had any way of actually knowing that Jason was in my class. I didn't exactly volunteer the information that I am a teacher. But that's not an excuse. Not telling him that I'm a teacher is not the same thing as him not telling me that he has a son. Don't you think that that is a bit more of a pressing issue that he should have mentioned?"
The Reverend yawned. I took that as his sign of agreeing with me.
"Exactly. And then he had the nerve to say that we didn't have any conversations."
As soon as I said that I realized how ridiculous it was, not only complaining to my cat but actually trying to defend myself while complaining to my cat. I knew that what Garrett had said was actually completely true. We had never had an actual conversation. The closest thing was either when we first met in the bar or our brief exchange at his welcome party. Until this afternoon, of course. That was most certainly a conversation. Not one that I would have ever wanted to have and certainly not one that I would want to repeat, but a conversation nonetheless. I felt like I had learned more about him during that encounter than I could have even if we had had several meaningful conversations during the time that we had known each other. I learned things about him that he couldn't just tell me with words. They were things about him that I learned by looking into his eyes and listening to the tone of his voice. As he stood there in my classroom shouting at me I saw in him the forceful arrogance that I thought he didn't have. He was so incredibly different than the other times that we had spent together. He suddenly reminded me of the man that I put behind me, who I tried to forget, who I promised myself I would never repeat. It was sickening and terrifying.
My mind went back to what Garrett had said to me in the last moments before he stomped out of the classroom and disappeared.
He has been through more than your shiny, sugar-coated mind could ever comprehend.
That single line that hurt and enraged me more than anything else that he had said. How dare he make assumptions about me like that? How dare he pigeonhole me when he didn't even know me? He knew virtually nothing about me and yet, he had encapsulated me, created an image of what he thought I was, and projected all that he had gone through and all that his son had gone through onto me, not believing that I ever could have experienced anything that could have caused pain or heartache, anything that could burst the little bubble of perfection he thought that I lived. The thought made my stomach turn and my ears buzz. I had experienced what he would never understand, what he would never see just by looking at me. He couldn't see what I had endured. He couldn't see that there were so many times when I felt like one of the delicate blown glass ornaments I hung so carefully on my Christmas tree and then so hastily took down for the new year. On the outside, I seemed smooth, polished, even perfect. But all of that was just a thin, fragile veneer. Inside I was hollow and dark.
Seven years earlier…
"Are you sure?"
I was so breathless I wasn't entirely sure that my words were audible. Michael smiled at me, his face bright and high with the color of excitement and joy. He was kneeling in front of me, one hand clutching mine, the other presenting me with a ring. My hands were trembling, and I felt like I wasn't fully in the moment, like I wasn't really experiencing it.
"Of course, I'm sure," he said. "I love you. I love you more than anything in the world."
"I love you, too," I said.
But we're seventeen.
I didn't say it. Maybe I should have.
"Then tell me you'll marry me. Tell me that when I leave for school it will be with the promise that you'll be my wife when I come home."
I was so swept up I wasn't even thinking beyond his words. I nodded, smiling as the tears were forming in my eyes.
"Of course, I'll marry you."
Michael took my hands and slipped the ring on to my finger. I looked down at the delicate gold band and the single, perfect diamond sparkling up at me. He saw me staring at it and touched the stone with one finger.
"It was my grandmother's," he said. "When she and my grandfather first got engaged, he didn't have the money to buy her a real engagement ring. She just wore a simple ring that he had gotten at an estate sale. For their 30th Anniversary, he bought her this ring. She gave it to me when I told her that I want to marry you."
I lifted my eyes to his face, surprised by the statement.
"You told her?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "I told her that I had found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and that I would be honored if I was able to give her the ring that my grandfather had given to her. I know that they had a long, happy marriage and I want the first symbol of our marriage to represent that."
"But she hasn't even met me," I said.
"She's going to love you as much as I do. Well, maybe not as much as I do, but that's because no one in the world could possibly love anyone as much as I love you."
I smiled, covering his face with both hands and drawing it toward me for a kiss. My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt almost dizzy with happiness. I have been dreading Michael leaving for college. We'd been together for two years and he was the center of my universe. I couldn't imagine spending a single day without him, much less years. I knew that he was my future. He was my everything. He had been accepted into an exclusive program that would take him across the country for almost three months out of his first semester and the thought of him being that far away from me had been devastating.
Now, though, things were different. I knew that we were still going to be apart. He was leaving in a matter of days and I wasn't going to be able to go with him. But the ring on my hand and the lingering sweetness of the promise between us took some of the edge off the pain.
I felt like my life was unfolding in front of me. I was thrilled for Michael and the promising future that he had thanks to the program ahead of him. The promising future that we now shared. I knew that his childhood had not been easy for him. He had spent the first few tender years of his life listening to the bitter arguments between his parents. He had told me that it was actually a relief when they finally decided to divorce. Over the years he had many friends come to him broken-hearted because their parents were going through a difficult time or had decided to separate, and he had never been able to really understand why they were so upset about it. He believed that things would be better now that he didn't have to listen to the fighting or try to shield his little sister from it.
Things had gotten better for him, at least during the times that he was able to spend with his father. Andrew had moved on and healed. Within a year of his divorce from Natalie, he had remarried a beautiful, delightful woman I had become very close to in the two years that I had been with Michael. They had two little boys, and when Michael was there in that home with them he felt safe and loved. He felt like he had a family. It wasn't like that when he was at home with his mother. Natalie had begun to unravel in the months before the divorce and it had only gotten worse after. It seemed that the happier and more functional that Andrew was, the worse things became for her. So, she spiraled into darkness and took her children with her. Michael did everything that he could to protect his sister, which meant that he often got the worst of Natalie's rage. I often wondered why he didn't tell his father what he was going through. Maybe Andrew could have saved him.
Now Michael wanted to save himself.
Going into this program was about escaping his past as much as it was about building his future. I knew how excited he was to leave home and embark on this new adventure. He believed in himself more than I had ever seen him, and his aspirations were making him more and more excited and hopeful for the years that lay ahead. Now those years definitely included me. I had never admitted it to him because I didn't want to discourage him or make him feel guilty for wanting to move ahead, but I had always worried that his moving forward would eventually result in our relationship dissolving away. I was staying closer to home to go to college, but he was a year ahead of me which meant that I still had to finish out my senior year before I could even begin my college career. I worried that it wouldn't just be the space between us but also the differences in our experiences and what we were going through that would make it impossible for us to maintain over the years what we had been together. I wasn't afraid of that anymore. I knew now that we were firmly and irrevocably embedded in each other's hearts and that he felt the same deep commitment that I did. He didn't want to leave everything behind. He wanted to bring me with him.
My parents weren't thrilled when they found out about the engagement, but they were happy for me even if they worried that I was far too young to be making that type of decision. I reassured them that I didn't want them to give me permission to marry before I was eighteen, that we would be waiting at least until after I graduated, and that seemed to ease their worries. They had gotten married when they were only nineteen and twenty-two, so I knew that they understood the intensity of our bond and that they knew young marriage could not only work but be amazing. They knew that this was going to change the plans that I had for my future. I couldn't very well stay close to home and go to the university that I had intended to if my husband was hours away, which meant that I needed to start considering schools closer to Michael. I could still study teaching, I reassured them. I could still make sure that I followed the dreams that I had for my future. I would just do them with Michael by my side.
We had very little time to celebrate our engagement before he had to leave. But I thought about Michael every day. He was the first thing that came to mind when I woke up in the morning then the last thing that I thought of each night when I looked through the window and said goodnight to the moon, remembering one of our first dates when he told me that any time that I missed him I could simply look at the moon and know that no matter where he was, it was the same moon, and it would carry my love to him. Throughout each day I filled notebooks with my thoughts in the form of letters to him. I planned our wedding and I thought about our future. Some of those letters I tore out and mailed to him, others I kept for myself. I mused that one day I would share them with our children and our grandchildren while I told them our love story.
Most of the communication that I had with Michael while he was in his program was through the periodic emails he was able to send me. I knew from before he left that he wasn't going to have consistent access to a computer and that any communication that I received from him would be precious. That's how I looked at every message, no matter how short. Within just a few weeks of him leaving, however, the messages begin to change. I started to notice strange things about them. His sentences started to run together, sometimes sounding as though he had forgotten words or had skipped ahead to something else that he wanted to tell me without finishing his first thought. I did my best to read through each one as carefully as I possibly could, so that I could understand what it was that he wanted to say to me, but it became harder and harder for me to ignore the worried feeling in my stomach, and the voice in the back of my mind that told me something was wrong.
I talked to Andrew about the messages and about the worries that I had. Together we planned to go visit Michael. It would be a wonderful surprise, I told myself. He would be thrilled to see me, and I could ease all of my fears and worries by saying that he was just tired from how hard he was working. Finally, the day came when we arrived at the training facility. Several states away from the primary campus, this facility looked nothing like a college. It looked cold and daunting, and I felt a shiver roll through me as I thought that this was where Michael had been spending all his time for months. It was a family visitation weekend, but Michael hadn't expected that we would be able to come. He knew that I was busy at school and that it would be hard for his father to get time off work. I knew that it hurt him when I told him that I wouldn't be able to come, but that only made me more excited to see him now. I knew he would be so happy and so proud to show us everything that he had accomplished.
I kept telling myself that as Andrew and I roamed the grounds of the facility. All around us families were reuniting. I could see their excitement. I could feel their energy. But we couldn't find Michael. We searched for him everywhere that we could think to look. We attended each of the welcoming activities and ceremonies, scouring the crowds and hoping that we would catch sight of him. Every time that a group passed by me and I didn't see his face, a little bit more of that hope disappeared. I forced the smile to stay on my face, telling myself that as long as I was smiling, as long as I looked positive, everything was going to be alright. I didn't have to admit that I knew that something was terribly wrong.
"Where is he?" Andrew asked. "Where did he go?"
I shook my head.
"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. "He has to be here somewhere. He didn't mention to me that he was going to be anywhere else this weekend."
"He didn't mention it to me, either."
I nodded, letting out a breath.
"Well, that means that he has to be around here somewhere. We probably just missed him. Remember, he doesn't think that we're here. The other students know that their families are here, so they probably made sure that they were visible. I'm sure that Michael was just in the background somewhere."
Andrew offered me a meager smile.
"You're right. Let's go to his dorm and wait for him."
We walked across the grounds, both of us trying to ignore the happy voices and laughter around us. There was a heavines
s over both of us, though neither of us would say anything to the other. When we arrived at the dorm, we approached the desk. A guard looked up at us expectantly.
"Hi," Andrew said. "We're here to visit Michael Long. Could you let us into his room?"
"No," the guard said.
"Oh, well, then could we wait for him here?"
"No, I mean, he's not here. He's been moved out of the dorm."
I saw the color drain out of Andrew's face. His hands touched the edge of the desk and I could see them trembling. I remembered my own shaking that way not long before when Michael knelt in front of me and slipped the diamond onto my finger. I touched the diamond now, trying to feel Michael in it, trying to reassure myself.
"What do you mean he's been moved out of the dorm?" Andrew asked. "He's my son. Why wasn't I informed?"
The guard seemed completely unaffected by Andrew's insistence and I got the impression that this was not the first time that he had dealt with an angry or even panic-stricken parent. This made my stomach sink even further and I took an almost involuntary step closer to Andrew.
"Your son is eighteen, sir. He is an adult. There was no need to inform you of anything."
My eyes closed, and I squeezed my lips together. My mind filled with images of two nights before Michael left for school. A room filled with balloons. Candles creating little points of light in a darkened room. The taste of his kiss blended with the sweetness of the icing. That night we celebrated Michael turning eighteen. It was a milestone that had then seemed like his gateway into adulthood. Now it was the stumbling block that was keeping us from him.