Holding On (3 page)

I
had
almost
forgotten
that
my
mom
was
in
the
room
when
she
cleared her throat, and I realized that we were going to have
this conversation right
now. 
So much for being able to escape 
unnoticed. I glanced at my alarm clock to check the time. I only had five
minutes before I had to be
ready,
or we were going to be late to the
movie.

“Hey, Mom, what are you doing home? I thought you had to
work
tonight,” I
said.

Smooth—like I had no idea about my sister crying or the fact
that making her special meal was a big red flag that something was
wrong. I turned to continue digging in my closet, looking for my cleanest
pair of
jeans
or
cords.
I
needed
something
besides
sweats
to
be
able
to
leave the
house.

“I
took
the
night
off,
Becca.
I
needed
to
talk
with
you
and
your sister
about
something,
and
even
though
I
wanted
to
do
it
together,
your sister already got me to tell
her.
She seems to think that the only time
I make enchiladas is when I have bad news.” She sounded confused
by that statement, but all I could do was smile at
her.
It was amazing
how bright and completely clueless my mom could be at the same
time.

“She has a point, Mom. Last time you made them was
when
you
told
us
you
sold
our
house
and
we
were
moving
into
this
crappy apartment.
The
time
before
was
when
you
told
us
you
and
Dad
were
getting divorced. It seems like a bit of a pattern.” I had to pause at
that point
because
I
could
feel
myself
getting
emotional.
“What’s
the
bad news this time? Did you lose your
job?”

She looked nervous from where I was crouched down, and
today,
she
looked
a
bit
older
than
normal.
She
shuffled
over
to
the
bed
and patted
her
hand
beside
her,
so
I
moved
to
where
she
was
at
and
sat
down. As she took my hand in hers, I knew this was worse than I
could have
imagined.

“I
didn’t
lose
my
job,
but
I
did
find
a
new
one
that
pays
better.
We’ll
be able to get out of this little apartment, and I’ve even found
us a
perfect
house
that
we
can
afford.”
She
was
looking
down
now,
so
I knew
this
was
not
the
only
news
and
that
the
bad
news
was
still
coming. So
far,
everything
sounded
good.
There
was
no
reason
that
my
sister
should be crying about
this.

“That sounds great, but I have a feeling I am not going to like
the rest of what you have to
say,”
I replied, standing and crossing my
arms. When she didn’t say anything right
away,
I looked at the clock and
saw
that
my
forty-five
minutes
was
up
and
I
had
to
get
out
of
my
sweats
and into
something
more
appropriate.
“Mom,
I
have
to
get
changed.
Brad
is gonna be here any minute
and—”

“It’s
in Tucson, Becca. My new job is in Tucson.
We’re
leaving
on January
1.”

She
never
looked
up
from
the
floor,
and
I
never
looked
back
as
I left
my
room
in
a
dead
sprint.
I
grabbed
my
purse
and
keys
off
the
entry table
and
ran
to
my
car.
I
needed
to
focus
on
driving
as
far
as
I
could, as fast as I could.
No time for tears
, I kept telling myself over and
over again.
No time for
tears.

I
pulled
into
the
school
parking
lot
and
killed
the
engine.
That’s
when
I
broke.
I
could
not
even
contain
the
loud
sob
that
came.
I
opened the door and started to walk toward the courts. I should have
grabbed shoes and a jacket. I ran back to the car and found my rain boots in
the trunk
and
a
blanket.
I
quickly
swapped
out
my
slippers
for
the
boots
and grabbed the blanket. I would have to make do with
these.

The closer I got to the courts, the more I realized that with all
the
snow,
I wouldn’t be able to open the gate, so I veered left and went
into the baseball dugout. At least I was out of the wind. I plop down on
the bench
and
curl
up
in
the
blanket
the
best
I
can.
My
body
was
numb,
but not from the cold.
It’s
starting on the inside and working its way to
my limbs.
I
was
still
crying,
and
I
wanted
to
stop,
but
I
just
didn’t
know
how.
My eyes were like a faucet that wouldn’t turn
off.

I
wasn’t
prepared
for
this.
My
life
was
finally
getting
back
on
track. My shoulder was healed. The trainer had cleared me to practice
today.
I
was
going
to
be
able
to
play
with
my
team
in
the
spring.
My
grades were
good.
I
have
finally
been
able
to
spend
some
quality
time
with
my friends.
I
only
have
another
year
and
a
half
until
I
go
off
to
college.
Why now? Why was she destroying everything now? Couldn’t she wait
until I finished high
school?

My
phone
began
ringing
in
my
pocket,
but
I
didn’t
even
bother to
look.
I
knew
it
was
probably
my
mom
wondering
where
I
ran
off to. She probably wanted to finish our very one sided conversation.
She wasn’t
asking
us;
there
was
no
talking
about
this—she
was
telling
us that we were moving. The ringing stopped and then started again
right
away.
Really?
Can’t
she
just
let
me
be
alone
right
now?
Does
she
not understand how upset I am?

“No,” he said from about ten feet
away.
Had I just said all of
that out
loud?
Probably.
When
I
get
emotional,
that
tends
to
be
my
MO.
“You
are not allowed to be alone right
now.”

As
I
turned
my
head,
I
couldn’t
help
but
smile.
He
was
such
a beautiful person, inside and out, and he was mine. He towered over
me in
height
and
could
probably
bench-press
me
as
a
workout.
His
body was always in great shape because he was always at the gym trying
to strengthen
his
upper
body
for
football.
He
was
doing
a
great
job.
I
could see
how
impressive
his
build
was,
even
though
the
sweatshirt
he
was
wearing.