Life Before (27 page)

I need to see what is left of her life.

I unfold the flaps and find her pillowcases on top. Then a sweater and other clothes. I turn my back to Janice and bring a handful of T-shirts to my nose. I fight back the tears, but they win. Mom’s voice has been in my head a lot, but it’s harder to imagine a scent. And here she is. Ivory soap and cardboard boxes and—
big inhale
—Mom. It’s heaven and holidays and home. I breathe in the fistful of cloth again.

Love you, Mom.

I don’t need anything else from this box. I especially don’t need the file folder from the day before Mom died, but I’ll bet it’s in here. What a mess. I made a mess of her life.

Janice touches my shoulder lightly. “You okay, Xander?”

“I can’t help but think if it weren’t for me, she would still be alive.”

“Actually, I’d argue she would have died a long time ago if it weren’t for you.”

“If it weren’t for me, she never would have stayed with Gary. I’m sure you’ve worked out that they got married because she was pregnant with me.”

Janice purses her lips.

“It’s okay, Janice. I’ve done the math.”

She puts her hands on her hips, drops them, and looks at the ceiling. “This is a conversation you should have had with your mom.”

No kidding.

Her voice is quiet. “You got the math right, but the story wrong. Your mom got pregnant with you because she thought Gary would marry her.”

I don’t believe it. “No way.”

“A year or two ago, we had probably too much wine and got to talking about high school. She told me how head-over-heels she had been for Gary. For over a year, they were crazy about each other. He took her to Cleveland and Pittsburgh and Columbus and they dreamed of traveling the country together. Gary had a bit of a wandering eye, though, and your mom was desperate to keep him. When she found out she was pregnant with you, she hoped he would settle down with the two of you. That’s how she justified it: Gary would stop ogling other women once they were married.”

I don’t know about this. In some sense—if it’s true, which I’m not willing to concede—Mom choosing Gary makes things better. In another sense, what happened to that guy? An adventurous father would have been awesome. We could have been a real family. Then again, maybe family is like life: it’s always the real thing, though not always the version you want.

No one would have wanted this life, but it’s mine. That family was mine, too, and I’m done lying about it.

“Janice, I’m sorry we lied to you about him. I was living a lie for a long time.”

“You weren’t living a lie, Xander. You were ashamed of your parents. You kept secret the things that were happening in your life. You didn’t keep yourself from people. The Gary stuff, your mom? It’s tragic, it’s awful, but those are things that happened to you, not who you are.”

I actually appreciate the after-school-special sentiment. I remember how light—how free!—I felt when I confided in Kat. I want all of life to be that light. And maybe when I get to college I don’t need to tell everyone my life story, but when the topic arises, I won’t be embarrassed.

Not everyone needs to know everything, but some people deserve to. I check my watch. Gretchen is probably already waiting.

T
HIRTY-NINE

Quaker Steak is in three hours, but I needed to see Gretchen first. Alone. She said she’d meet me, but she’s not here.

The fields are full of soccer matches. I choose a bench that faces the pee wee games, where four-year-olds chase the ball for an hour without keeping score.

Eyeing the thin line of trees that separates the park from Gretchen’s neighborhood, I wish I had searched harder for my old phone. Maybe I wasn’t clear about where we should meet.

No Gretchen. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Just when I decide she has changed her mind about the whole thing, Gretchen steps from between two trees. She brushes her hair away from her face as she searches the fields. When her eyes find me, she smiles, and I congratulate myself for sitting so far away.

For a minute, I’m just a guy waiting for his smart and beautiful girlfriend to walk across the world’s largest field. It’s one of those moments that will become a forever memory. A happy one.

Okay, she’s running now, but that’s maybe because I was staring too hard. She kisses me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I will replay this over and over in my head.

We share the longest hug in the history of the universe. This isn’t how I expected our first date to happen. It’s exactly six weeks late, for one thing. “I’m so glad you agreed to meet me here.”

Gretchen laces her fingers through mine and starts walking. “I would have met you anywhere.”

Walking together feels like the most normal, natural thing. Like nothing ever happened. Gretchen stops and kisses me lightly, then not so lightly. I wrap my arms around her back.

A little boy—or girl, it’s hard to tell—squeals, “Ew, ewwwwwwww,” and we erupt in laughter. We kiss again, picking up where we left off, as though these last weeks didn’t happen.

But they did.

I pull away from Gretchen and grab both of her hands. “Gretchen, I want to be here with you, doing this. Right now. But we need to talk first.”

“I thought we agreed that we’ve been talking for years and needed to catch up on … other things.” Her cheeks are the softest shade of pink I’ve ever seen.

I run my fingers through her hair. It’s still heaven. “We’ll get to that, I promise. But this can’t wait. That’s why we’re in public right now. We have the rest of the night and all of summer for the other things. All the other things, I promise. But hear me out: there are things about me that you don’t know.”

Gretchen admits that she does know, now. She recaps for me what she’s seen on the news since my mother died. She knows Mom was abused. And I was abused.

I stop her. “But there is more that I was afraid to tell you. There is so much more that you don’t know.”

She can’t look me in the eye. “You don’t have to tell me. I understand.”

She leans in to kiss me, and again I pull back. What is it with my brain? “No, Gretchen. I need to tell you. So that you really know me before we … get into the other stuff. Which I promise I cannot wait to get into with you.”

Bewildered, her gaze shifts endlessly from one of my eyes to the other. “Alright.”

Sitting in the sunned grass, legs crossed, holding Gretchen’s hands, I share the whole story.

She listens intently, and my life feels real. This life, right here. Right now.

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

Now that I’ve earned my author badge, I want to acknowledge several things:

First, that I cannot write with my captivating daughters underfoot. Megan Thornton, Brooke Monroe, Rachel Noveroske, Sierra van Burkleo, Tessa Boutwell, and the Napping Gods ensured I had the space and time necessary to write and edit this book.

Second, that writing novels is a team sport. Sarah Quigley, Anique Drouin, and Amanda Blau provided invaluable insight. The Thomas Ford Library Teen Book Club contributed honest and heartfelt feedback. My editor, Nicole Frail, and her intern, Alexandra Ehlers, transformed crucial aspects of Xander’s story.

Third, that Heather Booth’s keen editing eye improves any book immeasurably. She sharpens my focus and precludes my embarrassment. She also is the 2015 Illinois YA librarian of the year!

Fourth, that even my uncanny sense of direction cannot navigate the publishing world. My agent, Andrea Somberg, is my compass.

Fifth, that my high school English teacher, Maxine W. Houck, is always right. (She also is the person who said, “It is not the answers authors give, but the questions they raise that make them interesting.”)

Finally, that without Charles Bacon’s unwavering support, I never would have found the confidence required to become an author. Seventeen bonus points for you!