Whirlwind (41 page)

“Do you need any help?” Mom asked, spooking me. “Sorry, Melissa, I didn’t mean to startle you. I finished in the kitchen and put the boxes in the car. Looks like you’re done here.” She spoke quietly, and I wondered how long she’d been standing in the doorway. She picked up the alarm clock lying in the middle of the floor without another word.

I passed her the other pillow and unplugged my lamp. We tossed the last few things in the car, and I made one more pass through the apartment, grabbing the forgotten lamp in the family room. The only thing left was the flowers. Mom picked them up and carefully stowed them in the back seat. I locked my apartment for the last time, and got in the car.

After dropping off my key, we headed north. Mom drove, leaving me free to sit, motionless, trying not to think about how Jason had looked in the driver’s seat.
Is there anything that doesn’t remind me of him?
If only I could remember what had made me happy before I met him…but I drew a blank. Had he changed me that much?

Time lapsed for me again, and it seemed like only seconds had passed before we pulled into a gas station in
Soledad
.

“I’m getting you something to eat,” Mom said.

I turned to her, confused. “What?”

“Your stomach has been growling for the last hour. Didn’t you feel it? When did you last eat?”

I had to really think about her question—had to force myself to remember what happened before that last conversation, last touch, last kiss.

“Um, I had a donut for breakfast?” I shrank in my seat, expecting her to start chewing me out.

Mom didn’t yell or even complain but sighed loudly and shook her head. I thought I heard her mutter something like “it’s happening again,” but I wasn’t sure.

Mom made me eat a hot dog and chips she bought before she’d start the car. The food went down, but since I hadn’t felt my hunger earlier, I didn’t feel any satisfaction now. When I finished the last bite, she tossed a granola bar at me.

“You need to eat more. One donut is not enough to keep you going for a full day,” she said.

“I know. I just forgot about lunch.” She didn’t need to know I’d spent two hours in my car, catatonic.

I managed to stay alert for the remainder of the drive. Mom talked about her trip to
Reno
and actually smiled when I asked her a question or made a comment. Our conversation ceased when we turned onto our street. I guessed she was remembering the same thing I was. Ron had been here just a few days ago, looking for me.

“I still can’t believe he stole our mail. I should’ve stopped it while I was gone.” Her voice wavered, and I put my hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, Mom. Try not to think about it.” I’d regret forgetting to call her for a long time. No matter how much I cared for Jason, my negligence was inexcusable.

“How did you do it? Fight him, I mean,” she asked.

“Didn’t Mitch tell you?”

“He just said you were attacked and that you saved his brother’s life. He mentioned something about a bull, but it didn’t make a lot of sense.”

I told her exactly what happened while we unloaded the car—omitting the details of the conversation I’d had with Jason prior to Ron’s appearance. She listened closely, trying to hide the fear in her eyes when I described how I let Ron chase me through the stable. By the time I finished the story, we were sitting on the bed in my room.

“I can’t believe how calm you were, hon. You’re so brave, just like your father,” she said.

I glanced at the picture next to my bed. My father and a twelve-year-old me smiled up from inside the black frame. He looked indestructible in his dress uniform and brand new captain’s bars.

“He’s always watching over us, you know,” I said, remembering his helpful whispers.

“I know.” Mom patted my knee. “I should let you get some rest. Why don’t you go to bed early tonight?”

In answer to her question, I yawned. “Okay. Thanks, Mom. I’ve missed you.”

She hugged me before she got up. “I’ve missed you too. It’s good to have you home.” The door closed quietly behind her.

It
was
good to be home, but I still felt empty inside. I looked at my nightstand again but not at the photo. Sitting next to it were the vouchers. Would it hurt too much to go for a weekend?

The thought of seeing Jason again energized me, and for the first time since we’d parted I took a real breath. Reality was quick to set in, though, and I recalled how painful it’d been to leave him this morning. Could I go through that again?

The sadness threatened to reclaim me, so I slipped off my shoes and grabbed the closest pillow. If I was going to cry, I’d rather do it under the covers so I wouldn’t upset Mom.

I fished around the bulging pillowcase for my pajamas. The T-shirt I found wasn’t Poly’s gray and green, but dark blue. My hands shook as I held it up, though I knew exactly what I’d find on the front. Once I saw the bright yellow lettering, I collapsed on the pillow, pulling the shirt close.
Why is he punishing me?

“I have plans for that shirt,” Jason whispered in my memory, and the tears came freely. I wanted to be with him so badly the center of my bones ached. I remembered all the things I loved about him: the sound of his voice, his laugh, how his forehead crinkled when he read my mind, the way his touch made me tingle. And then there were his eyes. I’d seen my whole life in his brilliant azure eyes. What was left to see now?

As I cried myself to sleep, I wished more than anything that I could still see them.

* * *

When I woke up, Mom was sitting on the bed next to me, frowning. “Good morning. When I said go to bed early, I’d kind of hoped you’d at least change first.”

Stiffly I rolled onto my back. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

Mom touched Jason’s shirt, still clutched in my fingers. “I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s time you tell me what’s going on between you and Jason. The way you’re acting is like…” She stopped and looked away.

“Like what?”
What have I done now?

Mom took a deep breath. “You’re acting just like you did after Dad died, Melissa, and it’s scaring me. I talked to you for an hour in the car yesterday, and you didn’t so much as blink. This morning, I find you in a ball wrapped around this.” She lifted the corner of Jason’s shirt. “And I’m pretty sure it’s not yours. Why don’t you just call him? He gave you tickets; plan a trip to go see him, for goodness sake.” She tried to mask the worry in her eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

“It’s not that simple, Mom. I can’t go back to him—I’d just be leading him on. There isn’t any future for us. What if he goes to medical school in
New York
? What if I get a job in
Seattle
? It’s just easier to let him go.”

I realized I was still clutching Jason’s T-shirt and quickly shoved it under my pillow. “I’ll get over him,” I lied.

“Hmmm,” she said, watching me. “It sounds like you two have been together awhile. Why haven’t I heard more about Jason?”

I closed my eyes. “We met online a while back…but…I only met him in person on Saturday.”

Silence. The seconds ticked by, and still I heard nothing. Finally Mom took a slow, deep breath, and I knew the fuse had been lit. I braced for the explosive lecture on online predators and date rape that had to be coming.

“So it was love at first sight, then,” she said almost thoughtfully.

My eyes popped open. The anger and disappointment I’d been expecting to see weren’t there. She actually looked calm and almost happy. Why wasn’t she telling me how irresponsible I was, how childish?

“Mom, do
you
believe in love at first sight?”

She took my hand and started tracing my fingers with her thumb. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never experienced it. Your father, however, swore he knew we were going to be married the first time he looked into my eyes.”

She looked at Dad’s photo, the special smile she saved only for him growing on her lips.

“Brad had just moved in across the street from me and came over to ask where the school bus stopped. When I pointed at the corner, he got the funniest expression on his face. I was only sixteen at the time and didn’t think anything of it. He was two years older than I was, after all. The next time I saw him he surprised the heck out of me and asked me out. The day I graduated high school he proposed.”

She turned back to me with one of those things-were-better-then looks on her face. “Of course
we
didn’t have sex until we were married.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m just a tad bit older than you were, aren’t I?”

Wed at nineteen, I’d always considered my mother a child bride, much to her chagrin. Her story piqued my curiosity, though.

“What did you do when you were in high school and Dad went to college?”

“In those days”—she squeezed my hand playfully—“we actually
talked
on the phone. Brad called me every evening,
and
he sent me a weekly letter. I have boxes of them in the attic. He’d come home every other weekend and pamper me with flowers and picnics. The time apart wasn’t so bad because we knew someday we’d be together forever.”

“You were lucky he was so close,” I said. Jason was a world away.

Mom smiled, but then a shadow crossed her face. She fingered her wedding ring, and I knew she was thinking about Dad’s death. I tried to distract her.

“So what would you do, if you were in my place?”

Her morose expression evaporated, and she tapped her chin with her finger. “I’d probably go see him—over the Fourth, maybe—and see where things stood after that. I bet you could take a week off without any problem.”

A week.
A week would double the time I’d spent with Jason. But it didn’t solve my problem; I’d still have to repeat the heartbreaking separation I’d just experienced. How much more would it hurt to leave a second time? A short visit seemed like a Band-Aid on a gunshot wound. We’d made the break—why reopen the injury?

Mom wasn’t finished. “Your father would have done something completely different,” she said with a grin. “And I have a feeling you’re more like him in this case.”

We talked some more about Dad and Jason. I was surprised how good it felt to open up to her. The pain became manageable enough that I got up and changed. Maybe the next two days wouldn’t be so bad, and I’d be able to make my decision without so many more tears.

I spent the day on mundane tasks like laundry and email, all the while thinking about Jason. I folded my clothes while weighing the pros and cons of what Mom and I had discussed. Objectivity regarding Jason didn’t come easily, and my emotions swayed from excitement to despair to anticipation to grief in a matter of minutes as I visualized the possibilities.

Mitch’s words also resonated in my mind as I worked. “Jason isn’t going to give up on you.”
I worried about what Jason would do if I
didn’t
take his offer, if I told him it—us—was over. He’d fought to keep me with him that first night. Would he do it again? Would he come and find me? I was pretty sure he would, as unbelievable as that was. My heart took off again at the thought, and my emotional roller coaster climbed toward another peak.

He seemed so sure of his feelings—he had from the very beginning, I realized. Was I unsure of mine, or was I just afraid to accept them? No, I knew I loved Jason; I’d risked my life for him. It was something else.
But what?