Sam’s dad pulled up in his pickup truck. He was waiting, but we kept standing there. It was hard to say good-bye.
Mr. Johnson tapped his horn a couple times. “I gotta go,” Sam said. “Don’t look like that. Reminds me of a lost puppy.”
But all I could think about was Sam watching basketball practice through a crack in the door. It was the most unfair thing I’d ever heard of. “Talk to your mom again about the basketball team. Maybe she’ll change her mind.”
Sam shook her head. “Talking wouldn’t do any good.” And then she turned away from me and walked toward the truck. “See ya around,” she called over her shoulder.
My throat was too tight to answer her.
Mom made meat loaf and mashed potatoes for dinner. I took a couple bites, but mostly I used my fork to create mountain peaks with the potatoes.
“Allie, stop playing with your food and eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Mom sighed. “We agreed your feelings for Sam might be just a phase. Can’t you at least make an effort?”
“Sam quit the basketball team.”
“But she’s a star player,” Mom said. “Why did she quit?”
“So her mom wouldn’t cause trouble for Coach. They made a deal.”
Mom blotted her lips with a napkin. “I’m sorry about that, Allie. It seems awfully unfair.”
“Sam stayed after school today and hid behind the locker room door. She watched basketball practice through the crack.”
“Maybe Reverend Walker could talk to Mrs. Johnson. It’s a shame what she’s doing.”
I stared at Mom as if I had Superman’s X-ray vision.
“I get it,” Mom said. “You think I’m as bad as Mrs. Johnson.”
Dwayne had said I needed to stand up to Mom. I kept staring. She was the first to look away.
Melissa called just before bedtime. I was surprised, and a little nervous too. Why would Sam’s sister call me?
“Allie, you forgot to take the costume for Pioneer Days home with you.”
“What?” Pioneer Days was the furthest thing from my mind, as far away as another galaxy.
“You left early that Sunday morning, and neither one of us remembered.”
That Sunday morning had been the end of my friendship with Sam. I had replayed that day about a million times. Like if I thought about it long enough, I could go back and change the ending. “Yeah, to tell you the truth, I’ve been trying to forget about Pioneer Days because … never mind, it’s a long story.”
Melissa sucked in her breath. “I could stop by after school tomorrow and drop it off.”
“You want to come here?”
“Yes.” Melissa spoke softly, almost a whisper. “I need to talk to you.”
Then it was my turn to breathe deeply. “Is it Sam? Is she okay?”
“Ummm … not really, but we should talk in person.”
I wouldn’t be able to sleep, or even think, until I heard what Melissa had to say. “Does Sam know you called me?”
I heard Mrs. Johnson in the background. “Melissa, are you tying up the phone again? Heaven forbid somebody tried to get through with a real emergency.”
“Give me another minute,” Melissa said. “Thanks for going over that algebra problem with me. It really helped.”
I didn’t know much about algebra, but I understood what had just happened. Melissa was keeping a secret from Mrs. Johnson.
I didn’t blame her one bit.
Somehow I made it through the night and the next day. I went to my classes, but the lessons didn’t sink in. I said hi to anyone who called my name, but it was an automatic response. I was a zombie.
After school, I hurried down Oak Street. Phoebe ran through piles of leaves to catch up with me. “Grammy’s baking cookies again. Want to go home with me?”
“Not today. Melissa is dropping off my costume for Pioneer Days.”
“Can I stop and see it?”
“NO!”
“I thought we were friends,” Phoebe said. “You don’t have to yell.”
“Sorry. Sometimes friends yell.”
“I hate it,” Phoebe said. “My parents yelled all the time.”
“Sorry,” I repeated. “I need to talk to Melissa by myself. That’s all.”
“Is it about Sam? She quit practicing for the horse show and told me not to bother with braiding Penny’s mane.”
Sam was miserable too. I wished I knew how to fix it for both of us. “Bring your ribbons to Pioneer Days anyway. I bet Sam will change her mind.”
“I hope so. She hasn’t been the same since she quit the basketball team.”
“I know. That’s why I need to talk to Melissa alone. Maybe I can figure out a way to help.”
While Phoebe and I said our good-byes, Melissa waited for me on the front porch. Mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway, which meant she was still at the library. Perfect.
I offered Melissa a snack, but she turned it down. She thrust a brown paper grocery bag into my hands. “The costume is in there.”
I put the bag on the coffee table. “Want to hang out in here or in my room?”
“Here’s fine.” Melissa sat down and hid her face in her hands. “Sam told me.”
I had to be careful. “Told you what?”
“All of it. That she’s gay.”
“Oh. I … don’t know what to say.”
“She told me about having a crush on Kelly Hutton when she was in second grade.”
“She told me that too.”
“I’m so mixed up. It feels like I don’t know Sam at all.”
“Sam’s the same person she always was. She likes basketball and horses and loves little kids.”
“Yeah, but I live with her. She’s my sister. How could I not know something this important?”
Melissa was struggling, same as Mom. Why did it have to be such a big deal?
“It’s just hard to accept. That’s all.”
“It had to be even harder for Sam to tell you.” I remembered Mom’s reaction and shuddered. I’d probably never forget how alone I’d felt that night.
“I asked Sam if she needed counseling, but I think after talking to the youth leader at church, she’s done with that.”
“What else did you say to her?”
“I promised that I wouldn’t tell Mom or Dad. Both of us agree they couldn’t handle it.”
“I think you’re right.”
“The whole thing makes me want to cry,” Melissa said. “I want Sam to be happy, but I don’t know how to help her.”
I knew what Sam needed from Melissa, because it was what I needed from Mom. “Don’t judge her. Don’t make her feel like a freak. What she needs is to know you love her, and that you’re still proud she’s your sister.”
“You think it’s that simple?”
I brushed away stupid tears. “Yeah, it’s that simple.”
Melissa brushed away tears of her own. “Thanks, Allie. I’m gonna do all the things you said.”
I had found a way to help Sam, or at least a way for Melissa to help her, but it really made me miss Eric. Siblings usually understand, even when your parents don’t.
When Mom got home from the library, I was lying on the couch thinking about Melissa’s visit.
“What’s in the brown paper bag?” she asked.
“My costume for Pioneer Days.”
Mom stopped unbuttoning her coat. Her fingers wrapped around the second button. “Did Sam bring it?”
I understood what she didn’t say. She didn’t want me to be alone with Sam. “Melissa brought the costume. She was by herself.”
Mom’s breath came out in a relieved whoosh, and she finished unbuttoning her coat. “Put the costume on. You can model it while I make dinner.”
“It’s nothing special.”
“Put it on,” Mom insisted.
“Okay, okay. I will.” It was easier to do it her way than to argue.
While I got dressed, the phone rang. I put my
ear against the bedroom door. It was Dad. I could tell by the tone of Mom’s voice. She sounded overly polite and extra cheerful.
“I’m glad you called. How are you doing?”
I didn’t understand how she could cut him so much slack. He had walked out on us. End. Of. Story.
Mom answered questions about her work in the library. She told him both her parents were doing well.
Finally, they got around to discussing me. “Things are about the same,” Mom said. “Allie is unhappy, and she’s blaming me for her misery.”
I couldn’t help but blame her. My crush on Sam should have been fun and exciting, but she had ruined the whole experience, with some help from Sam’s mom.
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Mom said. “I could use the help.” She paused, and I wondered what Dad was saying on the other end of the line. “John, there’s no need for you to get a hotel. The house Allie and I are renting has a guest room.”
Here. Dad was coming here. Maybe now he and Mom would finally get back together!
A couple days later, Dad was waiting for me when I got home from school. “Hi, Allison.”
“Hi.” I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t. “Don’t call me Allison. It’s Allie now.”
“Still mad at me, huh?”
I shrugged.
“Let’s take a walk,” Dad suggested. “You can show me the town.”
“It’s small. Not much to see.”
Dad ignored my attitude. “We should leave a note for your mom.” He walked into the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers.
“Just write it on the blackboard over by the cabinets.”
I waited while Dad zipped up his coat, and then we were on our way. I acted like a polite tour guide, pointing out all the places that were important to Mom and me: Daniel Boone Middle School, the Methodist church, and the library. I lingered in front of Scott’s Drug Store. “Can we get a cherry coke?”
“Sure, that sounds good. I know they’re your favorite.”
Dad took his time checking out the red vinyl seats and looking at the menu. “This place is a real throwback to the fifties. How about french fries?”
“Okay.”
Dad reached into his pocket for a couple of quarters. “Want to play some music on the jukebox?”
I was glad for a reason to leave the table. I played “All I Have to Do Is Dream” by the Everly Brothers. It was Mom and Dad’s favorite song from when they were in college.
“Ouch,” Dad said. “That one brings back good memories.”
That’s exactly what I’d intended. I crossed my fingers.
Slurping our Cokes was easier than talking to each other. I wished the iceberg between us could melt as fast as the ice in my glass.
Dad finished his Coke and fished out a maraschino cherry with his straw. “I’ve been angry … and … and depressed since Eric died. I won’t make excuses, but somehow I took it out on your mom.”
I stared down into my glass. “Mom wasn’t always nice to you either.”
“No. No, she wasn’t.”
“Are you two getting back together?” My words were rushed, quick and hopeful. We could never have Eric back, but the rest of us could still be a family.
Dad shook his head and looked away from me. “I do have some good news, though. At least I hope you’ll think it’s good.”
I stared at him and waited. Anything he said would be short of what I really wanted.
“I got a job transfer. My new sales territory will be the Southeast. I’m looking for a place nearby so I can spend more time with you.”
“But what about Mom?”
Dad sighed. “It was a joint decision, Allie. We’re better off apart, but you need us both.”
“I need you living together in the same house.”
Dad shook his head. “What you really want is the life we had before Eric died. Honey, no matter how hard we try, neither your mom nor I can give that back to you.”
I knew he was right, but it was so hard to let my dreams go.
Dad reached for a napkin and wiped his watery eyes. “Remember how it was toward the end between your mom and me? Think about the fights, the crying and yelling.”
I didn’t want to go through that again. Nobody would.
The waitress bustled over and slid a platter of french fries between us. I dunked a couple of them in ketchup and thought about the stuff Dad had said. His knee was jerking under the table. I guess he was anxious too.
“I love you, Allie. More than anything.”
Dad wouldn’t be going to all this trouble if I didn’t matter to him.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked nervously.
“The french fries are delicious.”
Dad grinned and pointed one at me. “I mean about my move.”
I knew what he meant. “It’s not as perfect as if you lived with Mom and me, but it’s still good.”
“That sounds like my girl,” Dad said. “I’ve missed her.”
That me had disappeared the night Eric died. I had missed her too.
Mom made Dad’s favorites for dinner. We had a pot roast cooked with potatoes, carrots, and thick brown gravy. Mom had fixed herself up too. I could tell she’d washed her hair and freshened her makeup.
“I’ve asked around,” Mom said, “and Janet Moore has a garage apartment that might work for you.”
“Phoebe’s grandmother?” I asked.
“Yes,” Mom said. “Phoebe’s grandmother, baker of homemade cookies and reader of romance novels.”
Dad grinned. “I’m only interested in the cookies.”
Mom smiled back at him. “That’s good. Mrs. Moore is about twenty years too old for you.”
Dad had seconds on the pot roast. “Sure you don’t mind me staying until I find a place?”
“No problem at all,” Mom said. “Allie’s in charge of laundry, so you’ll have to work that out with her.”
“Mom pays me two bucks a week.”
“How about I double that?”
“Deal.”
While I cleared the table, Mom served apple pie. We never had dessert during the week, but it was an unusual night. My parents were in the same room and actually being nice to each other.
“I’m in charge of cleanup,” Dad said. “Maybe Allie could help me.”
Mom was happy to put her feet up with a good book.
Dad washed the dishes while I dried and put them away. “Tell me about Sam,” he said.
I hugged the plate I was drying to my chest. The same feeling washed over me as when I had first started wearing a bra. I was embarrassed.
Dad scrubbed the pot and waited.
Sometimes when I didn’t know how to put my feelings into words, I wrote them down. That’s what gave me the idea to show Dad my interview with Sam. “Wait here. I’ve got something I want you to read.”
When I got back, Dad had finished the dishes. He wiped his hands on a towel, sat down at the table, and reached into his shirt pocket for his reading glasses.
I took a seat across from him and chewed my thumbnail.
Dad chuckled as he read my article. “Sam and her dad arm wrestled for the last burger, huh?”
I nodded.
He read the last sentence out loud: “‘Whether on or off the court, Sam Johnson makes every day more interesting at Daniel Boone Middle School.’ Do you still feel that way?”
“Yes.”
Dad laid the newspaper down. He reached across the table and patted my hand. “I understand,” he said.
“You do?”
“Yes, growing up with your uncle Jeffrey taught me a lot.”
My embarrassment turned into the biggest feeling of relief in the whole universe. Somebody finally understood, and even more important, that somebody was my dad. My eyes filled with tears, and I didn’t even care. Dad’s eyes filled too and melted part of the iceberg. “Mom doesn’t understand about Sam.”
“We should probably see a family counselor,” Dad said. “Will
you do that for me?”
“Will the counselor try to change the way I feel?”
Dad shook his head. “I’ll screen counselors ahead of time and make sure we get a good one.”
“But you refused to see a counselor when Eric died.”
“I know. Cut me some slack, Allie. Adults make mistakes too.”
“Not this time, Dad. This time you got it just right.”
A few days later, Mom and Dad picked me up from school early. The counselor’s office was in Winston-Salem in a two-story brick building. We perched on chairs in the waiting room, nervous, like birds ready to take flight. Dad had already explained that Dr. Nichols wanted to talk to me alone.
“Allison Drake,” the receptionist called.
Dr. Nichols’s office had a desk, but she didn’t sit behind it. Instead she sat in a chair facing me. She was about Mom’s age with black hair pulled back into a bun.
“Allie, I’ve spoken with your dad on the phone, but I’d like to hear directly from you. Why are you here?”
“I think … no, I know, well, at least I’m pretty sure, I’m gay.”
Dr. Nichols focused her dark brown eyes on me. “How does that make you feel?”
I rolled that question around in my mind like pizza dough. “Happy when it’s just Sam and me, but sad the rest of the time, especially around my mom.”
“Tell me more about your mom.”
I spent the next twenty minutes talking about Mom, about Eric’s death, Dad leaving, the day I met Sam, and everything leading up to right then. “I was scared the night Sam ran away. Worried Sam was hurt and that I’d hurt Mom.”
“And since that night?”
“I’ve been lonely. I miss Sam.”
“How do Sam’s parents feel about all of this?”
“They don’t know, at least not for sure.” And then I explained about One True Way.
“I always advise patients that safety comes first. Sam needs a place to live and to finish her education. If she feels coming out would jeopardize those things, then perhaps she should wait.” Dr. Nichols rested her chin on her fist. “Exploring sexuality is a confusing time for most adolescents, but I am not overly concerned about you, Allie. You are doing just fine.”
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