Letting Ana Go (9 page)

I just heard Jill’s mom start coffee in the kitchen. We’re headed back to the marina this morning. The boat has to be returned by noon, and then we are driving back home this afternoon.

Ugh. Home.

I’ve barely thought about Mom and Dad and that whole situation since I got here. It makes my stomach hurt. I wonder if
Mom is still crying a lot. You know what? I’m not going to start thinking about it now. I’ve got one last whole day with Jack, and I’m not going to let myself waste it worrying about how my mom feels.

I’m also not going to let Rob sit next to Jack on the way home.

Weight:
126

Two things were waiting for me when I arrived at home.

1. A shiny new hybrid SUV from my father with more luxury options than I have ever seen on one automobile in my entire life.

2. A shiny-headed, nearly comatose mother, asleep on the couch. I don’t think she washed her hair the entire time I was away. She barely moved when I came in the door except when I asked her where the SUV came from.

Mom: Your father.

Me: Why?

Mom (pointing): Note on the counter.

I found a card on the counter, next to a key fob that looked like it might power a spaceship or hold the digital data of a blueprint for the colonization of Mars. In my father’s square script were the words:

Want you to be safe on the roads. I know this won’t fix things. Maybe it will help
.

I love you
,

Dad

I stood and stared at the key ring for a full five minutes. The TV was ablaze with a drag queen spatter-painting a bedroom wall, and Mom was staring at it glassy-eyed, not really seeing it. I crumpled the card up and tossed it into the recycling bin, then slipped the key into my pocket and dragged my bag upstairs.

Jack and I sat in the backseat together all the way home. He held my hand, and I fell asleep against his shoulder. I woke up as we drove into town, and the closer we got to my house, the worse my stomach felt. I realized I was dreading walking into the house, and when we’d pulled into the driveway, and I saw the only light coming from the windows was the TV, I knew I’d find Mom asleep in her scrubs on the couch.

It was totally depressing.

Susan gave me a hug in the driveway and told me how glad
she was I’d come with them, and that I was welcome anytime. She made a point of grabbing both of my shoulders and looking right into my eyes and repeating:
Anytime
.

Jack and Rob kept asking where the SUV in the driveway came from, and I kept telling them I didn’t know, even though I deep down inside, I knew exactly where it came from. Dad was right. This SUV doesn’t fix anything.

But it helps.

I unpacked and went to bed. Yesterday was Saturday, and when I woke up late and Mom was still on the couch, I put my foot down. I made her get up and take a shower. I called the salon we go to and made an appointment, and I dragged her down the stairs to the shiny new SUV, pushed her into the driver’s seat, then took her to get a cut, her roots done, and her eyebrows waxed. While she was in the chair, I got a text from Jack.

Jack: Missed you at bfast.

Me: ditto

Jack: whose SUV?

Me: mine ;) peace offering from pop

Jack: NO WAY

Me: way

Jack: I want a ride.

Me: At salon on mayday mission with mom. Call you later.

It was good to get Mom out of the house. She looked
better on the outside after our salon trip and a salad at Lulu’s Café across the street. She didn’t feel any better on the inside, though. I tried to cheer her up by doing a school-report-worthy rundown of my vacation: My Week at Lake Powell. It was mildly edited. I showed her all the pictures and videos I took with my phone. Rob had brought along these thick plastic zipper bags that sealed tightly, and we took a lot of pictures out on the rafts. I flipped past a couple of Jack and me. I don’t want to have to answer questions about him just yet. If I start telling everybody about him, I’m afraid I’ll lose that floaty feeling under my chin. I want to keep it all to myself right now.

Mom smiled and halfheartedly munched on her salad, but back at home, she wound up on the couch again for another solid six hours. She was there again when I woke up this morning. All she can do is mope around and talk about how skinny and tan and beautiful I look. It makes me feel sort of frantic on the inside because I want to
do
something about this. It seemed she was doing okay with the whole divorce thing when I left. Now she appears to be falling apart.

I know this is a crappy thing to say about your own mom, but all I could think when I walked in the door on Friday night and saw her sleeping on the couch with greasy hair and dirty scrubs was that Susan would
never
let herself look like that. Ever. She’d go to the guillotine in tailored, matching
separates, and her final request would be that someone blot the oil off her forehead so she wouldn’t be shiny when she went to meet her maker.

I guess everybody is different.

I’m really glad I had that moment in the kitchen on the boat with the doughnut. It wasn’t very fun at the time, but coming back and seeing Mom in this state makes me think it was a good wake-up call when Susan caught me sneaking food. That’s how it starts, I think. First you sneak a doughnut, then it’s a pint of ice cream, then you’re fifteen pounds overweight and your husband is taking somebody else to Korean barbecue.

Weight:
126.5

When Vanessa and Geoff showed up to run this morning, they acted like they hadn’t seen me since the Paleolithic period. Both of them talked at the same time while we did warm-up stretches. Finally, I just started running because I had to get them winded so only one of them could talk at a time. I thought my run would be horrible because I’d been on the boat for a week, but I think my body actually needed the rest because it felt great to stretch my legs. We decided to time ourselves on a five-mile run, and I couldn’t believe it, but I beat Vanessa. I shaved almost a whole
minute off my time. They started talking over each other again:

Vanessa: Did you eat anything on that boat?

Me: What? Yes.

Geoff: Your run was awesome, and you look great.

Vanessa: I can’t believe it. How’d you manage to lose a couple pounds? You were floating around all day while I was running my butt off.

Geoff: Lighter equals faster!

Of course, that’s when Vanessa reminded me we’d have to turn in our printouts from CalorTrack this week at practice. I just looked through my printouts and the numbers are really low. I was kind of surprised at how little Jill and I actually ate. The thing is, I still feel good. Plus, my run today was great. I’ll just tell Coach that I cut back because I wasn’t running. If she doesn’t buy it, I guess I can tell her I’m still not feeling well after the split and everything. If I run as well on Thursday as I did today, she might not be worried about it at all.

Weight:
126

Mom was working tonight, and Jill called me to see if I wanted to go shopping with her. Jack came into her room while we were talking and this is what I heard:

Jill: What?

Jack: Lemme talk to her.

Jill: What? No. You also own a cell phone. Call her yourself.

Jack: I already did.

Jill: God! You’re
hopeless
.

Jill: I’ve been telling my brother he can’t call and text you every five minutes or he’ll scare you off. I told him he needs to play it cool. I don’t think he really understands the concept.

I was laughing, and I felt my cheeks get warm. Jack and I have been texting like crazy since we got back, and yesterday I drove by in my SUV and took him and Jill for a ride. Since my mom is working most nights, or comatose in front of the TV, I’ve been going to bed and talking to him before I go to sleep. I’d been sitting on my hands, trying not to call him—to let him make the first move—but it is hard! This feeling I have is more like a roller coaster and less like extreme happiness. Sometimes I think if I don’t kiss him again soon, I might disappear in a little puff of white smoke. It made me relieved to know that he was having a hard time not calling and texting more too.

Jill: How did this happen?

Me: What?

Jill: You and Jack?

Me: I don’t know. I just . . . saw him at the pool that day.

Jill: I
knew
it.

Me (laughing): What?

Jill: We were walking down that hill toward the car outside the swim club, and I turned around to find Rob. You had your eyes
glued
to Jack. You didn’t even hear me when I asked if you wanted to ride with me or Geoff and Vanessa. You just followed us down the hill and climbed into the car with us.

It was true. She was right. That day had changed everything.

Me: Jack and Jill went down the hill . . .

Jill: And you came tumbling after.

Me: (laughing): Something like that.

Jill: You’re the worst! You don’t even deny it.

Me: Why should I?

Jill: My best friend has the hots for my brother. It goes against the natural order of things.

I could hear her smiling when she said it.

Me: Does that mean I have to choose between you?

Jill: Not if you’ll come to the store with me.

She’s on her way to pick me up now. I thought she wanted to go to the mall, but she wants to go to Whole Foods. She’s got big plans for the next phase of our slim down, which apparently includes a lot of sugar-free gelatin desserts, organic brown rice cakes, dark, leafy greens, and hard-boiled egg whites. It sounds awful.

Jack just texted:

Come by before Jill drops u off. Wanna show you something.

I think I will. Maybe not having Dad at home at nights while Mom is working isn’t such a bad idea.

Jill insisted on buying me the same groceries she got for herself. She said she’s going to try to get down to 1,000 calories per day this week.

Me: I don’t think I can do that.

Jill: Sure you can. You’ll actually feel
more
full because these rice cakes totally swell up inside you and fill you up.

Me: Yeah, but I have to run a lot, and Coach is going to expect a lot more calories than I can get from rice cakes and leafy greens.

Jill: So? Just enter extra food. Just because you put it in the app doesn’t mean you have to eat it.

This hadn’t crossed my mind before. I really like Coach Perkins. She’s been so understanding about the whole thing with my dad. I don’t really want to lie to her, but my time did get a lot better after I lost a couple pounds. Plus, I know Jill likes having a friend to do this with.

Me: Maybe I can just stay at 1,200 calories.

Jill: Whatever you can do will help. I mean, you saw the
way Jack has gotten hooked on you over the last couple of weeks. What you’re doing is working. I wouldn’t stop now if I were you.

We pulled into her driveway, and Jack was waiting on the steps. He had this little smirk on his face. Jill took her bag of groceries in and said she was giving us ten minutes and then she was coming back out so we’d better not be steaming up the windows when she did.

Jack grabbed my hand and led me around the house, through the side gate, and into the backyard. My heart was racing the minute he touched my hand. Their backyard has always looked like one of those yards you see on TV shows. The grass around their pool is always perfect and green, and Jack led me down to the double porch swing that hangs at one end of a pergola near the fire pit. He held the swing still while I sat down on it, then he sat next to me and pushed us with his long legs.

I’d been a little nervous when he pulled me into the backyard. For some reason, my mind filled up with the idea that maybe he wanted to make out some more—go further this time. It’s crazy what my brain can conjure up when left to its own devices. I had a horrible flash of his dad coming out onto the back steps and finding us practically naked, me scrambling for my bra.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he just said, “Sh!” and pointed up to a giant, round moon that was hanging low in the sky. I hadn’t noticed it was full until that moment. He squeezed my hand, and the two of us just sat and stared up at the moon in silence.

As the swing slowed down, my heart sped up and I felt that thickness in the air again.

Me (whispering): Is this what you wanted to show me?

He nodded, then turned and looked at me. He slid one arm around my shoulders over the back of the swing, then reached up with his other hand and pulled my chin toward his. He kissed me once, lightly on the lips.

Jack: C’mon. Let’s go say hi to my mom. She won’t stop asking me about you.

Me: You showed her that picture on the raft, didn’t you?

Jack: How’d you know?

Me: Because I knew my mom would never have let that one go.

He laughed, and my heart jumped at the light in his eyes and the cleft in his chin. Jack is the kind of guy I never had to worry about. This is the boy who wants me to come in and talk to his mom.

He’s the boy who wants to show me the moon.

Weight:
125.5

Vanessa is starting to get on my nerves. Ever since Jill and I got back from Lake Powell, she’s been asking lots of questions—which is not abnormal or anything, just that they have
all
been on a single subject: eating.

Are you eating enough?

How many calories did you have?

Can I see your CalorTrack printouts?

Ever since we ran on Monday and I had a better five-mile time than she did, she’s been all over it. At practice yesterday when we handed in our calorie printouts to Coach Perkins she wanted to compare totals. If Coach noticed I hadn’t eaten very much on vacation, she didn’t seem to care. She certainly
did
seem to notice when I clocked my best time ever on a five-mile run. We were doing cooldown stretches on the lawn in the big shadow cast by the gym when she walked over, put her hands on my shoulders, and announced my time to the whole team.