With the popcorn finished, my mom moved over
to the counter and separated it into two separate bowls. As she
poured the butter over one batch, she called to my brother who was
playing a video game in the family room.
“James! Come and help Willow and me string
the popcorn.”
Earlier that morning, “Santa” had brought my
brother the latest and coolest video gaming system that all the
neighborhood boys were wishing for, including James.
He hadn’t peeled himself away from the
television set yet and I doubted that the task of sewing together
pieces of popcorn, even with the tempting aroma coming from the
kitchen, would entice him.
“In a minute!” he yelled back.
I had never understood why we had to wait
until Christmas night to string popcorn for the Christmas tree, but
my mother said that was the tradition in her family and that she
felt it was important that she pass some of them along to my
brother and me.
My mother sat down beside me at the kitchen
table, daintily snacking on the bowl of yummy popcorn while helping
me string the other.
“You’ve been rather quiet all day,” my mom
said.
I shrugged. “I guess I’m just missing Daddy
’cause it’s Christmas.”
“I completely understand, Willow, but your
father has been gone for over five years now,” she said as she
patted the top of my hand. “Five years.”
She stared at me and kept her hand still on
top of mine, as if five was the magic number, as if five years was
long enough to grieve. I was confused. My mother could barely
function as a human being for years after my dad had died and now
she’s sitting here telling me to basically get over it.
I pulled my hand away as if her words
scorched my skin. “Why would you say that? Don’t you miss him
anymore?”
I could tell she was shocked by my reaction.
She changed her approach and gently caressed my forearm. She chose
her words carefully this time before she spoke. “Of course I do,
dear, but I also know that it’s time to … to move on.”
Move on? I was speechless. My mouth hung open
as the doorbell rang, interrupting the unimaginable scene before
me.
James shouted from the other room. “Mom!
Someone’s at the door!”
“Coming.”
My mother jumped up and suddenly seemed
anxious as she smoothed down the bottom of her festive dress. I
stared at my mother who now seemed like a stranger to me.
The doorbell rang again, but she stopped
herself and met my gaze before she left the room. “It might seem
impossible, but all of us need to move forward, Willow. All of
us.”
I turned away from my mother and wondered why
she was so intent on making it the worst Christmas of my life.
The temperature rarely reached above twenty
degrees during the latter part of December. It seemed as if there
was some sort of precipitation falling from the sky everyday
whether it was snow, sleet or freezing rain. I thought I would be
stuck inside the house with my mother and brother during the whole
week of winter break, but instead I was just stuck with James. Even
though the three of us had off for vacation, my mother was never
home and the mysterious visitor on Christmas evening was the reason
why.
After my mother informed me that I should
basically move on with my life and forget about my father, I
quickly realized why she had been so insensitive. The reason was at
least 6’6”, had thick, brown hair, graying at the temples and had
to duck down before entering the kitchen where I had remained. This
giant of a man proceeded to brush the snow off the top of his very
tall shoulders.
My mother stood next to him, cleared her
throat and spoke nervously.
“Willow, this is my ummm … friend, uhhh, Mr.
Roberts. Brian, this is my daughter, Wil …”
Mr. Roberts held his hand up and kindly
interrupted my mom.
“Brian. I insist you call me Brian.” He
leaned his massive frame toward me and extended his huge hand.
“Nice to meet you, Willow.” He smiled widely
as if trying to impress me with his straight, yellow teeth. His
teeth reminded me of horse teeth, which, like the rest of him, were
big and tall.
His hand was so enormous I could barely wrap
my fingers around it, so I just held onto the tips of his fingers
and shook. I couldn’t bring myself to return the fake grin or
enthusiastic greeting. I could only stare at my mother in
disbelief.
“Mr. Roberts and I,” my mother started, but
stopped when Mr. Roberts frowned and shook his head.
She smiled and continued. “I’m sorry. I mean
Brian and I work together over at Orchard School.” My mother turned
back toward “Brian” just in time for a friendly wink.
I sat there, silent. What did she want me to
do? Congratulate them for working together or for the fact that
they were obviously more than “friends” since it was the first time
my mother had groomed herself in years.
I still wouldn’t respond. I just stared. All
three of us felt the tension and my mother politely excused the two
of them, but not before Mr. Roberts ended the awkward introduction
with, “It was very nice to meet you, Willow.”
I didn’t answer. I just kept on staring.
Finally, they left and went into the family room where my mom
promptly kicked James off the television so she could spend some
time with her gentleman caller.
Immediately, James pitched a fit, which
delighted me. I hoped she was embarrassed in front “Brian.” My
mother bargained with my bratty brother. She helped him disconnect
his gaming system and told him he could hook it up to the TV in her
bedroom and play for a little while longer.
James was somewhat content, but stomped up
the rickety old stairs anyway. I was so surprised by how powerful
his scrawny, little legs were and thought he might crash to the
cellar below.
My cat, Princess, ran into the kitchen and
hopped onto my lap. I could tell she wanted me to pet her. She
rarely wanted to be touched. I assumed she was wary of the stranger
in our home just as much as I was. As I sat there, I could feel my
blood boil with each stroke of her fluffy, orange fur and had to
control myself, afraid that if I kept going, I might skin the poor
thing alive.
• • •
By mid-week, I was going stir crazy. My mom
was off and running around with her new man and I was stuck home
babysitting my brother. I told her it wasn’t fair that I had to
stay in, but she promised I could go wherever I wanted on the
weekend; that she’d stay home with James.
I passed the time by chatting with my friends
back in Massachusetts on FunForum. I told them about my mom and her
friend and how I couldn’t understand how she could date someone
else. Gabby’s parents were divorced, so both her parents had been
dating others for quite some time and she assured me that I’d get
used to it. I told her that I doubted it.
One afternoon I sat on my bed surrounded by
my comfy pillows, on the Internet, connected only to Becca.
“And now Sarah is mad at Gabby for talking to
her boyfriend, Pete, while she and her family were away for
Thanksgiving visiting her grandparents in New York …” and on and on
Becca went with her tales from Mass.
Becca said she felt like she was stuck in the
middle of their fight. Even though I was actually glad to be away
from all the drama, I still missed them very much, especially
during times when I was feeling lonely.
Talking about Thanksgiving made me think of
my own holiday fiasco and how Michael had shown up on my doorstep.
I had not seen nor heard from him since. He hadn’t returned to
school and his MyWeb page was untouched, no new updates or
postings. I was very worried about him, but I didn’t know what to
do.
I was supposed to hang out with Erica and
Taylor over the weekend. If I got enough nerve, maybe I’d ask them
what they knew about Michael and his situation. I figured that if
he had grown up on the island like he had said, they would know him
well. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I’d have to wait and
see.
I signed off FunForum with Becca so I could
go and grab lunch downstairs. Earlier that morning, my mom took the
ferry over to the mainland to spend the day with Brian. She said
they were going to take advantage of “after Christmas” sales and
have lunch together. How sweet. I wanted to vomit.
I was on my way to the kitchen and about to
pass my brother who was, once again, glued to the television and
his Vampire Hunter game, when I stopped.
“Want lunch?”
Nothing.
“James!” I yelled.
“What?” he turned to me.
“Want me to make you some lunch?”
He shook his head. “Already ate,” he said, as
he held up a paper plate with hard, uneaten crusts from a peanut
butter sandwich.
I was surprised he took the time, not only to
eat a sandwich, but to make it, too.
“Kay,” I said and went into the kitchen to
search for some food for myself. I decided on a bagel and was just
about done spreading some cream cheese on top when the doorbell
rang.
“I’ll get it,” I shouted to James.
At first I thought it was my mother and that
maybe she had forgotten her keys, but when I glanced at the clock
and saw that it was only one, I realized she wasn’t due home until
dinnertime. I put down the knife and bagel, licked my fingers and
headed for the front door.
A chilly blast of wind, littered with tiny
snowflakes, greeted me when I opened the door and nothing else. An
unfamiliar car sat in my driveway and when I took one step outside
to investigate, I found Tessa leaning against the side of the
house, smoking a cigarette.
“Hey. What’s going on?” I asked confused.
“Can’t smoke in my mom’s car.”
Just then the wind picked up and blew some
flyers out of the overstuffed mailbox, which was attached to the
side of our house.
Tessa motioned with a swing of her head as
she took another drag. “You might wanna get those.”
I carefully sidestepped Tessa, trying to
avoid the plume of smoke that surrounded her, and grabbed all the
mail.
It was so cold that I started to shake. “Want
to come in when you’re done with that?” I asked, referring to her
cigarette.
“Nah. I’m fine.”
“Then what are you doing here?” I asked as I
moved back inside the front door, trying to seek refuge from the
cold.
Tessa moved closer. “I wanted to know if you
wanna come over to my house and hang out.”
I glanced back over my shoulder at my
brother. “Can’t. I’m babysitting.”
“Bring him.”
“No,” I snickered. “I don’t think so.”
Tessa looked over her shoulder at James.
“Can’t he stay home by himself?”
I shrugged.
“How old is he?”
“Gonna be nine.”
“He’s old enough,” Tessa said as she flicked
her butt on top of a snow-covered azalea bush. We both watched as
the glowing paper melted the surrounding snow, turned it into water
and finally extinguished itself.
She looked at me. “I used to stay home by
myself all the time when I was only six.”
“That’s not saying much,” I gestured toward
the Range Rover, which was still running in my driveway. “You’re
driving all over the place and you don’t even have your license
yet, or permit, for that matter.”
Tessa wagged her finger in front of my face.
“You’re wrong. I got my permit yesterday,” she said and smiled from
ear to ear.
“You did not.”
“I swear. I have my new photo ID in the
car.”
Tessa pleaded. “Come on. Just for a bit, to
celebrate the fact that I got it. What the hell else do you have to
do?”
I looked at James who was practically in a
catatonic state as he played his game.
“Plus,” she said, “I’m freezing my ass off
out here.”
I hesitated, but caved. “Alright, just for a
little while. Let me get my coat and I’ll meet you in the car.”
Tessa turned and walked away as I closed the
front door behind her. Gingerly, I approached my brother.
“James, would you care if I went out with a
friend for a little while?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he answered then quickly cheered
and hollered after slaying the King of the zombies.
“Okay. Listen to me,” I said as I stood in
front of the television, blocking his view.
“What?” he moaned. “I’m listening.”
“First,” I instructed him, as I grabbed the
cordless phone off of an end table. “Keep this with you and you can
call my cell phone any time.”
James took the phone and put it on his lap.
“Fine. Anything else?”
I thought. “No eating or drinking. I don’t
want you to choke.”
“I’ll be fine, Willow. I’m not a baby, you
know. I’m just gonna sit here and play my game.”
“Okay,” I said reluctantly. “Also, you can’t
tell mom and if you keep it a secret, they’ll be a reward in it for
you …”