His name was Craig Wakers, and he went door-to-door selling cheap computer equipment from a catalog. The man gave her the same pitch he gave our neighbors, but they were smart and turned him down. My mother, on the other hand, didn’t give a second thought about it when she let him inside our home. She always was a bit naïve when it came to strangers.
She bought a mouse, a laptop case, and three USB drives from him. When he asked if he could come around again in a month, she said yes. So he came back again, and again, and again, until it was a daily habit of his. I would go to school, my father to work, and Mom would wait by the door for him everyday. She lied to us for so long, and we never even imagined she was capable of something like that. It wasn’t until the dreadful day my father forgot his favorite apron that her secret became known.
When he walked inside the house he saw the suitcase on the table, a pair of men’s shoes that weren’t his sitting neatly by the door, and my mother’s blue robe lying carelessly on the living room floor. My father lost it, but that’s putting it lightly. He almost killed the guy, and by the time I got home, my mother was packing her things while my dad sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, refusing to say a word.
I demanded to know what was going on, and my father didn’t spare me any details. Unfortunately, he told me the whole gruesome story and I remember thinking that I wished I had never asked. After learning the truth about my mother’s unfaithful escapades, I asked him, “Dad, can’t you work this out?”
“I told your mother to choose between us and that…that man,” he replied, very solemnly.
“Which did she choose?” I pressed my father, scared by his unsettled appearance.
He looked me square in the eye, and I noticed that his eyelids were red and puffy. After taking a deep breath, he said, “She didn’t choose us, Kiddo. I‘m sorry.”
I think that was the first time I’d ever seen my dad cry. Maybe there was one other time he cried…I think at my grandpa’s funeral, but that was a long, long time ago. While I gazed at his distressed features, I knew that this was tearing him apart. He seemed completely detached as he sat there at the table, studying his hands with a mixed expression of sadness and hate. I couldn’t help but wonder how he let this happen---how he could just let her leave us. Was the love between them gone? It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t be gone.
When I heard my mother making her way towards the front door, I hurried after her, eager to hear her say that she still loved my father. She didn’t say that, though. All Mom did was hug me and give me a kiss on the cheek before she continued out the door. I followed her still, not satisfied with what she just gave me. I needed answers from her, and I needed to know why she was betraying our family.
“Mom!” I yelled out to her, running off the porch.
I watched my mother stop midway down the cement path and turn around to face me, and her face was free of worry and guilt. I remember thinking, how could she feel that way when this was all her fault? She was the one destroying everything!
“Why are you doing this, Mom?” I asked angrily as I approached her.
She stared long and hard at me before saying, “I can’t live here any longer, Jade. It doesn’t feel right anymore.”
“What doesn’t? What did we do to make you want to leave us?”
“You didn’t do anything, Jade. It’s just how life is. You won’t understand until your older.”
I started crying then, sorrow filling my heart. “Spare me that psychological bull, Mother! You’re not supposed to cheat on your husband, I’m sure of that! And you’re not supposed to abandon your kid either!”
“You’re better off with your father, Jade,” she replied simply.
“How can you say that, Mom? I’m your daughter and you belong here with me and Dad---not with some strange man you don’t even know!”
That’s when she walked towards me, so slow as if she were in a trance. When I stared into her pale green eyes it was like I was looking at a completely different woman, not the mother I’d known all my life. I shuddered through my tears, feeling lost. Where had she gone to? And why hadn’t me or Dad seen this coming?
After placing a cold hand on my shoulder, Mom said softly, “I love you, Jade, with all of my heart. I will always love you---you’re my little girl.” I sensed a but in there somewhere, and then she forced a smile at me and I knew her kind words were too good to be true. “But I don’t belong here anymore,” she finished.
“How can you say that?” I murmured incredulously.
“Because it’s the truth, Jade, whether you choose to believe it or not,” she told me calmly.
Wiping at my eyes, I whispered, “When are you coming back, Mom?” I yearned to hear her say it was soon.
My mother turned away from me heartlessly as she replied, “I’m never coming back, Jade…you need to accept that.” She didn’t even sound distressed that she was leaving me behind, and that truth cut into me like a knife.
“What? No!” I yelled at her, tears streaming down my red face. “I’m not going to just accept that, Mom! I’ll love you forever, even if you do leave! And so will Dad…”
She sighed and shook her head at my remark like I was acting foolish. “I’m sorry, Jade. I have to leave now.”
That was the last thing my mother said to me before she left. As I watched her climb into her car, I found I couldn’t hold back my anxiety any longer. My hands balled into fists as I shook with grief, and I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from screaming when she pulled out of the driveway. The tears in my eyes almost clouded my sight, but my last glimpse of her was when she drove away from me and our house. I waited outside in the front yard for the rest of the afternoon, hoping she’d come back. She didn’t though, and when the sun eventually set, my father solemnly came to bring me inside. We were speechless the rest of the night, and when I went to bed, I wondered if I could ever forgive my mother for what she had done to her family.
It was at that moment that I realized life was never full of rainbows or unbroken promises---at least mine wasn’t. I haven’t seen my mother since then, and because of the cruel way she left me, I’ve never gotten over the grief of losing her. It seems that I can’t get over it either, because I always dream of walking into the kitchen in the morning to find her at the table drinking coffee and reading the newspaper like she never even left. I know it’s not healthy to hold on to such pathetic fantasies…but it’s all I have left. She hasn’t called me once since she walked out---and that was four years ago.
However, last year around Christmas my father received divorce papers from Mom’s lawyer, and he gave us news of her whereabouts. Apparently, my mother was now living in New Mexico with Craig, and they were so happy and in love. They wanted to tie the knot, but unfortunately for her she was already married. The divorce papers were the last straw for my dad. He signed them willingly, vowing to erase Mom from his life completely, just as she had him. I hadn’t seen him so focused in a long time, and it was a nice change, even if it meant he was giving up on Mom. I just wanted him to be happy…and then he met Erika.
When my dad started seeing Erika it threw me for a loop. She was beautiful, but younger than him…and I couldn’t believe he found someone so soon after the divorce. At first, I figured he just needed someone to “be with”, but then he started bringing her around the house more frequently, and I didn’t know what to think anymore. Erika seemed to be getting too close to him, and when she started trying to get under my skin I began to question their involvement. What did this chick want with my father? And did he really expect to carry out an adult relationship with a woman so young? My fears were regrettably confirmed when I heard him tell her that he loved her. I honestly didn’t know how to handle that when I heard it.
I started to keep a close eye on Erika, spying and making sure she was as serious about my father as he was about her. She was so young though, and didn’t seem to have a career of her own (She was at my house all hours of the da
y, and never had she mentioned having a job). I wondered what Erika saw in my father and why she wanted to be with him. A beautiful woman like that…it was just odd. My father was good looking, but they couldn’t have had much in common with such a large gap in their ages. When the idea that she was after his money popped into my head, it was the only assumption that made sense. No wonder she always had a shopping back on her arm. My Dad was paying her bills!
My opinion of Erika after coming to that conclusion was a little biased, but I didn’t care. It’s not like I was dating her. I didn’t trust the woman so I wisely kept my distance. It seemed like the best option for me anyway, and as long as she made my father happy I didn’t care if she stuck around. No matter how much I disliked Erika, I wouldn’t screw up my dad’s happiness. The day she broke his heart though, that was another story. I wasn’t going to let anybody else hurt my father again---not my mother, not Erika, not anybody.
I’d never tell another living soul this, but sometimes I consider telling Erika about my problems to get a woman’s point of view. Living with my Dad has it’s perks, but it also has it’s disadvantages. I can’t girl talk with him---I tried once, but it was too weird. Still, even though Erika can be pleasant at times, I’d rather die then let her know her charm has an effect on me. So I bottle up my feelings and pretend like she doesn’t affect me. Besides, I’m okay on my own. I have my Dad and Heidi---I don’t need anybody else. I am perfectly fine…
9
WHEN I AWOKE FOR SCHOOL THE NEXT MORNING, all I seemed to be able to think about was Trace. I completely forgot about the evaluation test I had to take in Chemistry---which I’m quite sure I failed---and I didn’t even remember to pack the paper that was due for History either. I realized that if I couldn’t stop fantasizing about Trace, my grades would start going down the drain. They were all I had left, and without them I really was nobody…and I’d rather be a brain than be insignificant. Besides, after the fight we had, I was sure that Trace and I were over. It was useless for me to dream about something I could never have.
By the time I made it to fifth period I was totally disorganized. Papers were crumpled up in my folders, I couldn’t find any of my pencils, and my hair was a mess. Well, actually my hair was always a mess so I guess that wasn’t such a big deal. I wasn’t really paying attention to my teacher for the first half-hour of class…I was mostly just doodling hearts on a sheet of notebook paper while he went on and on about the fundamentals of law. Or maybe it was fundamentals of art. I wasn’t really sure.
It was when the door opened and someone walked in that I finally snapped out of my daze; and the fact that my teacher called out my name. I looked toward the front of the class, and found Trace standing next to my teacher, grinning at me. What was he doing here? I was absolutely confused when Mr. Langer waved me over.
“What is it, Mr. Langer?” I asked my teacher nervously as I approached him at his desk.
“Apparently, Ms. Cannon, this young man is a student assistant from the guidance office, and Mrs. Nelson needs to see you right away,” he informed me, eyeing Trace suspiciously.
“Oh?” I knew that Trace wasn’t a student assistant. He had Health this period, and if Mr. Langer learned this, detention would be the least of Trace’s problems. Even though I was still mad at him, I couldn’t let that happen. It’s not like I was that heartless.
“Okay, well, I’ll just get my bag and go see her,” I said coolly while I avoided looking at Trace. “It’s probably about some colleges I want to apply for.” That seemed to suit Mr. Langer, and so he nodded and went back to teaching the class.
Walking back over to my desk, I ignored the all-knowing stares of my fellow classmates as I grabbed my bag and cleaned the materials off of my desk. I hurried towards the door and left the classroom with Trace following close behind me. When the coast was clear, and we were all alone in the hall, I whirled around to face him. He was grinning a satisfied grin, and there was a joyful glint in his eye. What was he so happy about? And why did he concoct this whole charade to get me alone?
“So?” I asked suddenly, switching to serious-mode. “Why did you lie to Mr. Langer and tell him you were a student assistant?”
He ignored my question, and his response was simply, “Hello, Jade.”
I didn’t return the smile or say hey back because I wasn’t going to pretend like I was okay with him just popping into my life whenever he felt like it (even if he did manage to save me from a boring lecture). I was still mad at him, and there was no way I was going to forget what happened. So what if he was gorgeous and hot and…no, this was it. No more Ms. Nice Guy.
“Trace, I’m not sure if you know this but, I hate you,” I told him seriously.
He didn’t seem pained or even fazed by my remark as he stared blankly at me. I crossed my arms and frowned. Well, if he didn’t give a damn about what I thought about him then why did he bother seeing me at all? Trace continued to observe me without a word, his left brow raised slightly. He was annoying to look at.
I sighed loudly, sick of his temporary language disability. A few more moments of silence passed by and I rolled my eyes. “Hello? Is anyone in there?”
Trace still didn’t say anything, which irritated me even more. I wondered if he knew that his silence was getting to me; if he was being stupid on purpose. I wouldn’t put it past him. He had confessed to me once that he liked to watch me unravel.
Fed up with his immaturity, I frowned and said, “Alright, see you later then.” I turned my back on him and walked towards my classroom door, eager to get far away from Trace and all of the drama that came with him. I just couldn’t deal with it anymore.
“Wait,” Trace spoke up, and the sound of his voice caused me to hesitate in the middle of the hallway.
I turned my head in his direction slowly, a grave expression on my face. “What do you want, Trace?” I asked him sharply.
He shrugged casually and replied, “Nothing.”
“Nothing? You got me out of class for no reason?” I sighed and shook my head. “I could be missing an important lesson right now and why? Because you can’t leave me alone!” I didn’t conceal my anger and I didn’t care. I was tired of his games; this whole situation was really beginning to piss me off.
“That’s not really why I did it…” Trace replied softly.
“Then why did you, Trace?” I pressed him.
“Because, I…I…” he stammered lightly, and glanced away from me. He was acting like he was nervous or something---but he couldn’t be nervous around me, could he?
“Trace, come on,” I grumbled. “Just tell me and get it over with!”
He narrowed his blue eyes at me. “Jade, I’m trying to do something here…okay? Be a little patient.”
I ignored his demand and asked, “And what are you trying to do exactly?”
“I’m trying to---” His voice broke off, but after taking a deep breath Trace finished what he had to say. “I want to ask you something.”
My heart skipped at the suspense of his question. What could he possibly have to ask me? A million hopeful thoughts flooded my mind, but I pushed them all out. I had to be realistic. It was obvious Trace thought only of me as a friend and nothing more. Although, there could be a slim chance that he wanted more…No, I had to let it go. Trace wasn’t interested in me the way I was him. He wasn’t…I was sure of it.
“Oh really? Fire away.” I forged my voice to sound cool and unconcerned, as if I didn’t care about what he was going to ask me. In all honesty though, I was dying to know.
Trace watched me anxiously as he dragged a shaky hand through his messy hair. He chewed his lip thoughtfully, then suddenly blurted out, “Will you go to the dance with me?”
I was absolutely shocked by what he had just asked; his question catching me off guard. No way! He didn’t just asked me that, did he? It had to be too good to be true…or my mind must’ve been playing tricks on me. Just to be sure though, I asked him, “Excuse me?”
He frowned at my reply. “Don’t you want to, Jade?”
“Want to what?” I breathed weakly. I had to hear him ask me again or else I would believe that he hadn’t asked at all.
“Be my date for the dance,” Trace replied.
I tried to organize all of the jumbled emotions I felt at that moment: joy, doubt, anger, worry. Gazing up shyly into his blue eyes, I suppressed the desire to wrap my arms around his waist. I kept my smile tucked away as I replied, “You want to go with me? To the winter formal?”
My response sounded skeptical, but I couldn’t help it. This was all so confusing. I mean, we just had a huge fight…had he already forgotten it? I honestly thought he wouldn’t want to speak to me after our scene the other day. But now he was asking me to the formal! Why on Earth would he want to take me to a dance where all of his friends will see us together? He was the popular one, not me. It would be social suicide to show up at that dance with me on his arm. Didn’t he know that?
“Is something wrong?” He asked me warily, looking rather pale.
When I glanced back at him, I realized that he seemed sort of scared. Was he afraid that I was going to turn him down? Just knowing that I had that kind of power brought a rush of satisfaction over me, but I knew that I wouldn’t do it. I had to be crazy---psychotic even---to refuse him. Trace was the guy of my dreams, the only one I wanted. If I didn’t say yes now, I would regret it for the rest of my life. I just couldn’t pass something like this up. I don’t use clichés lightly…but this was a chance of a lifetime.
“Yes, I’ll go with you,” I murmured quickly, grinning up at him.
Trace’s frightened expression melted away into a smile. After turning slightly red, he replied, “Really?”
I nodded. “Of course! I would love to go with you to the dance, Trace.”
The Gossip Web Page 5