ake

 

 

 

 

Lance, my mom’s boyfriend, holds out two beers. “Your choice,” he says. “I’ve got a Heineken and an olive-infused single batch craft beer from a local brewery.”

“Olive-infused?”

“Oh, it’s better than you’d think!”

“Nah. Give me the Heineken,” I say. I flash back to that night at Lucy’s in Bells Park, when the bartender told me craft beer is for pussies. I like craft beer, but even I have my limits, and olive-infused is one of them. I push from my mind the thoughts of what else happened that night, how it was the first time I met Melanie. How I haven’t talked to her in a while, and that’s fucked up. I’m not going to think about that right now.

I follow Lance into the living room of the spacious bungalow where he and my mom live. Lance is tall and thin, and he’s wearing skinny jeans rolled up at the bottom with a tucked-in shirt and suspenders. His beard is long, and I’m pretty sure his glasses are for show, not prescription. In short: he’s an aging hipster who teaches and writes poetry. And makes my mother happy.

She smiles as we enter the room, and I think she even blushes when Lance takes her hand and kisses it. I look away. It’s strange. Different from the exuberant relationship she had with my dad, where they laughed, and he’d pick her up and swing her around. My dad, who would never have rolled up his jeans or worn glasses just for his image.

But Melanie was right when she said it’s not a new life for my mom. She’s not starting over. She’s living her one life, and it’s not up to me to decide how. The only thing that matters is that she’s happy. And it’s clear from the glow in her eyes that she is.

“I need some, uh, help with my homework.” Jacey, the thirteen-year-old foster child who’s been living with my mom and Lance, trudges into the room, her head down. I’ve met her a few times, and it hurts to see how broken she is, how much she’s been through. My mom’s told me Jacey’s father isn’t in the picture, and her mother is currently in rehab for a meth addiction. Presumably, Jacey will go back with her mom when she gets out; there’s a sober-living facility that aims to reunite children with their parents. But this isn’t the first time they’ve been through this.

Lance jumps up, too eager in his response. “Let’s go sit down in the kitchen!”

Jacey rolls her eyes but follows, plodding behind him slowly.

“At least she’s doing homework,” I say softly.

My mom nods, pushing her brownish-graying hair behind one ear. “She actually does quite well in school. She’s a bright child. Just in an unfortunate situation.” I can see in the worry lines around her eyes how much she cares.

“It’s great, what you’re doing. You and Lance.”

“We both just felt like we’re at a place right now where we can help out. We’re not planning to change anyone’s life, but if we can provide even a small bit of hope or a glimmer of something different, we need to at least try. Jacey,” she nods toward the kitchen, “is so smart, but her home life…”

I nod. “It’s like… um…” I stammer, run my hand through my hair.

“Like what?” My mom, never missing a beat, looks at me attentively.

I shake my head. “Jesus. I don’t know if I should tell you this.”

She sits forward in her chair. “Honey, you can tell me anything. You know that.”

“Yeah, well. This is kind of messed up. So messed up it’s why Uncle Mike and I aren’t talking right now.”

“Hmm.” She sits back again. “I thought something was going on. I talked to him two weeks or so ago, and when I asked about how things had gone with you out in Bells Park, he changed the subject. But I didn’t pry.”

I take a deep breath. “It’s, uh… There’s a girl, Mom.”

“OK.” Her tone is really matter-of-fact. But I know it won’t be when I give her the details, all the ugly, sordid truths.

“She’s young. Eighteen. And she was in high school when we started, um, seeing each other.”

A muscle twitches in my mom’s cheek, but she manages to keep her face even and nonjudgmental. I want to stop telling her about this, but I need to get it off my chest, and I need her advice about what to do. About whether or not I’d be totally fucking up Melanie’s future by seeing her again.

“She comes from a messed-up family. Like Jacey. Her dad’s in prison and pretty much nonexistent in her life. Her mom’s a full-time alcoholic. Drinking all day and all night. Honestly? Melanie probably would have been better off in a foster home, but somehow she managed to survive and excel in school and do great. She got, uh, a scholarship to University of Chicago. She’s smart.”

I pause, and my mom nods for me to continue, her face still a mask of neutrality.

“Right. So. She got caught with drugs in her locker, but they weren’t hers. She took the blame for her friend and had to participate in this drug program I was teaching out in Bells Park for Uncle Mike.”

“Oh, Jake.” Finally my mom speaks. “Why would you… How could you…”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I met her before I’d started teaching the class, and she lied about her age and who she was. From the moment I saw her, something… it’s hard to explain. Something changed inside my heart. Or my soul. Like a shift. A continental shift of my soul. That sounds fucking stupid.”

“No. It doesn’t sound stupid. But what you did was stupid.”

“I know. It’s why Uncle Mike isn’t speaking to me. He asked me to leave. I was ready to go anyway, but when he found out about me and Melanie…”

“Melanie.” She says the name like she’s trying it out. “Where is she now? Back in Bells Park?”

I nod. “Yeah. She’ll be moving to Chicago soon for college.”

“Are you two still together? Are you talking?”

I massage my jaw with one hand. “Not really. I, uh, I’ve been avoiding her.”

“Is she too needy?”

“No. It’s not that. Uncle Mike said something to me, about how she’s fragile, even though she seems tough. About how I’ll break her if I’m not careful, and I guess I don’t know how to be careful.”

She sighs, a smile gracing her lips. “You do, though. You remember all those strays you brought home when you were a kid? How you begged us to let you keep them? And then you volunteered all your time at the animal shelter in high school? The kind of person who does that knows how to be gentle. You’re not going to break anyone, Jake. Do you love her?”

“Yes.” My heart pounds at the thought, at the fact that I’m sitting here and talking about the girl I love, and that I can admit it out loud, to someone else.

“Then tell her.”

“Am I going to fuck up her future by tying her down now? Shouldn’t I let her be free to experience, I don’t know, life?”

My mom laughs, her eyes sparkling as she does. “If a dad in prison and an alcoholic mom didn’t fuck up her future, then neither will a good man with a big heart. And she is free to experience life. This is her life, and you can choose to be in it or not.”

I stand and pace, the next thing I want to say even harder for some reason. Finally I turn to my mom. “I need to apologize to you.”

“For what?”

“For not letting you live your life. For wanting you to grieve for Dad longer. For not giving Lance a chance sooner because I thought I knew what was best for you, which makes no fucking sense. Sorry for swearing,” I add.

She comes to me, taking my hands in hers. “Oh, Jake. I suppose I did take up with Lance sooner than anyone expected. It was definitely sooner than I expected. I thought I’d spend the rest of my life alone, and I was fine with that. My memories of your father are so wonderful that I could live on them forever. But, when you meet someone and, like you said, your soul changes, shifts, even a little bit, you can’t walk away from that. I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Mom.” I hug her tight, and when Lance comes back into the living room I hug him too, not tight—he gets a stiff man-hug and pat on the back—and he looks at me in surprise but smiles all the same.

“I’ll see you guys,” I say. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

~~~~

Melanie’s phone goes straight to voicemail, so I text her instead: I need to see you. I’m so sorry I haven’t been around lately. I’m an asshole, and I’m stupid, and I don’t deserve you. But please let me know where we can meet.

It’s more than I’ve texted her over the past two weeks combined, I think, and what an asshole I’ve been hits me hard. It’s one thing to need to take time or think about things. It’s a whole other thing to send one-word responses to someone you supposedly love. Do love. I’m a goddamn asshole, and I hope she can forgive me.

There’s not much traffic, and I make it to Bells Park in record time: forty-seven minutes exactly, when normally it take at least an hour.

I’m outside Melanie’s house when my phone finally bings with a response from her. You ARE an asshole. But I’ll meet you. Wanna come to my place?

The grin on my face is unstoppable, and my fingers, I swear, are fucking shaking as I type back, Yeah. I’m outside right now.

A few seconds later she responds: Uh, no, you’re not. Anyway, you don’t even have my address. Do you?? (stalker)

No way. She already fucking moved, and I wasn’t there to help or be a part of it. Just like I didn’t go to her graduation. Or anything else.

Maybe I’ll hang out with your mom instead, I text. Send me your address. I’ll be there in less than an hour.

She texts it to me, and I start to drive to the expressway, but turn around. I have one more stop to make.

~~~~

James looks surprised but grins broadly when I enter the station. “Hey, man! Whatcha doing here? And thanks for leaving me to teach that fucking class, asshole.”

“Just trying to keep you out of the house so you don’t eat so much. Speaking of which, you look like you’ve lost a few pounds. Been working out?”

“Yeah. Gotta stay in shape so I can keep up with my girlfriend.” He raises an eyebrow and nods.

“The one I met at Lucy’s that one night?”

“The very one.”

“Are you dating both of them?”

“No, man. Just one. And we’re exclusive, you know.” He looks happy and proud, and I’m glad to see him doing so well.

“My uncle in?”

James nods, and I head back to my uncle’s office. He’s on his computer, and when he sees me, he freezes, then gestures me in.

“What are you doing here?” His voice isn’t exactly cold, but it’s not exactly welcoming either.

“I, uh, was in the neighborhood. Wanted to talk.”

He nods slowly. “So talk.”

“I was wrong. It was wrong, what I did. Getting involved. It was a mistake, professionally at least. I want to apologize to you.”

“Yeah.” He scratches at something on his desk, then looks up at me again. “Look, Jakey. I love you, kid. I always have, and I always will. You’re a good kid. A good man. I don’t want to see you fuck up. I want you to have all the best that life has to offer.”

“Thanks.”

“When your dad died, it was…” He pauses. “It fucking killed me. I lost my brother. But you lost your father. I need to look out for you and give you the best advice I can. But I don’t want anything to come between us. We’re family, Jake. And we always will be.”

My eyes tear up, and I tense my face to keep from crying. “I love you, Mike.”

“I love you too, Jake.”

I shift from one foot to another. “So I’ll, uh, see you…”

“You here to see her?”

Fuck. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask, though I guess I knew it would come up. How could it not?

I clear my throat. “Yeah. I am.”

“She’s gone already.”

“Yup. Just figured that out.”

He nods and looks in my eyes. “You already know what I think. But I’m here for you no matter what. Got it?”

“Got it. Thanks.”

He comes around the desk and hugs me, awkward and stiff at first, but then I feel the warmth and love he’s always given me. We’re family. And that will never change.

I say bye to James and tell him to visit me soon. “You can bring your girlfriend,” I say with a wink.

Then I drive way the fuck faster than I should all the way back to Chicago.