Small Town Famous

The Small Town Trilogy

Alison Ryan

Copyright © 2017 by Alison Ryan

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contents

Don’t forget…

1. June 1986

2. June 1996

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Acknowledgments

Don’t forget…

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THE SMALL TOWN TRILOGY is an ongoing story with the conclusion coming in the third book. Hope you enjoy it!

“In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” –Albert Camus

1

June 1986

“A bad check always returns,” said Grandma.

She stood next to me on her porch watching the white K car creep up her winding driveway.  I was six years old and my birthday had been the previous day. Pink and purple streamers still hung from the porch fans.

“Who is that, Grandma?”

“It’s your momma.”

I looked at the car as it slowed to a stop.

The man behind the wheel was very dark. When he walked up to the porch with my momma’s bags he smiled. Perfect teeth. He had an afro and long fingernails. I couldn’t stop staring. He had the most beautiful skin I have ever seen since.

  “You must be Annie. I’ve brought your mother back to you, little one.” He stood and nodded at my grandma who acted as if she didn’t see him. She was looking at my mother.

  Momma. The first time I saw her was that day on the porch. She had left very soon after giving birth to me. Soon meaning she still had the stitches from her c-section when she climbed out of her bedroom window in the middle of the night. I imagine myself sleeping soundly in my crib, not even realizing I was being abandoned.

  No one ever told me why she left. Grandma and Granddaddy had taken care of me, giving me everything I could need. My birthday party had been attended by my entire Kindergarten class. Grandma had gotten me a pair of jelly shoes. I was wearing them that day on the porch. They made my feet sweaty. Thick buttercream frosting still sat on my mind. I had been thinking of my leftover birthday cake sitting in the fridge when we noticed the car coming up.

  She was tall, reed like. She wore a long, wispy skirt and brown sandals that looked like they were made out of twigs and grass, they were so dainty. Her blouse was loose and flowing and her arms were covered in silver bangles. Her hair was long and thin, the color of the bark on our dogwood tree and it hung down her shoulders almost to her waist. She had on sunglasses and a large smile. She threw her arms out and yelped.

  “I’m home, baby! Hi, Momma! Did y’all get my letter?” Her arms still out, she walked forward, still grinning. The man had gone back to the car. He watched from the driver’s side as she approached me.

  I was aware she was my momma and although I had wanted for nothing in her absence, I still prayed for her return since last spring when my pre-school had their Parent’s Day and I had no one to come. Granddaddy came but everyone knew he wasn’t my parent, he walked with a cane and wore Velcro shoes.

  I was confused. She was not as I imagined. She didn’t dress like the mothers I had seen. They wore sensible khaki shorts with pleats and espadrilles. The mothers I had been around spoke in soft, placating voices. They were gentle and kind and concerned, even when you weren’t their own. This woman was exotic and terrifying. She stood before me, her arms no longer reaching out, instead twirling her hair around her long fingers like a girl. She didn’t seem like a momma at all.

  I hugged my grandma’s thighs and began to cry. My mother froze. She looked at my grandma for assistance but was met with a cool glance.

  The man that brought her took this as his cue. Without a goodbye he climbed into his car and was gone.

* * *

  That night I sat in the bathtub hugging my wet knees while Grandma washed my hair. This was always my favorite part of the night, sitting in the bathtub while her withered hands massaged my tender scalp. That night we were silent. We were thinking the same things, I could feel it. The scent of Pert Plus and Irish Spring soothed me. I knew Grandma could handle whatever came next.

  We had gotten her letter, almost three months ago. It was vague and made no mention of when my mother would be returning only that she was thinking about it. The postmark said it was mailed from Miami. My grandma told me that was in Florida, near the beach.

  “Near Virginia Beach?” I asked.

  “No, farther south than that. Where they grow the oranges.”

  “Myrtle Beach?” Those were the only two beaches I knew.

  “No, baby. Farther.”

  “Oh. Why is she there? Why isn’t she here?”

  “I ask that question to myself all the time, sweet girl,” Grandma pointed to the floor in front of her, “Come here, let me braid your hair.”

  The gentle tugging of her braiding and the hum of my granddaddy watching the local news in the other room lulled me into a sleep. Grandma would laugh that I could fall asleep sitting up like that, she said I got that from Momma.

  “What do I get from my daddy?” I asked.

  “Hopefully more than what you get from your mother,” she would say, patting her finished work, “Let’s go make some supper, okay? Granddaddy is hungry.”

* * *

  After dinner I pulled on my nightshirt and crawled into bed. I wasn’t sleepy. I was curious, nervous. Would my momma love me? Would she be disappointed and leave again? Where was Daddy? There were so many questions that no one had ever been able to answer.

  I could hear her and Grandma talking through the vents in my room. It didn’t sound friendly. I could hear the restraint in Grandma’s voice. A sitcom buzzed in the living room and I could hear the sound of Granddaddy’s recliner being pulled out. He always stayed out of things.

  “Momma, the point is, I came back. I’ve changed. I’ve come to realizations,” my own mother said.

  “That’s not the point. You don’t just leave a child like you did and come back thinking there won’t be things to answer for. I’ve gotten five letters and one phone call total from you since the day you left! With all my jewelry I might add,” Grandma was flicking her lighter. She only smoked when she was stressed.

  A pause.

  “Momma. I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back every cent I took. I’ll do whatever you and Daddy want me to do,” I could hear the small screech of a kitchen chair being pulled out, “I just want to make it all right. I don’t expect it to be an instant thing. I thought of y’all all the time… Especially Addie. She’s my daughter.”

  A chuckle. I could hear Grandma exhaling, “How touching. ‘She’s my daughter.’ You threw her away like she was nothing. You crept out the window like some kind of… You were cowardly.”

  My stomach dropped. I felt so sick all of a sudden.

  “That’s not fair! I was only nineteen! I was young and impulsive and stupid. I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I didn’t throw her away. I left her with people I knew could take care of her.” I heard the tears in my mother’s voice.

“I feel like shit about it, ok? Is that what you want to hear? That I screwed up? Well, here I am, Momma! Letting you know that I know what a horrible person I am.”

  “You’re still young and impulsive,” Grandma exhaled again, “But you’ve never been stupid, Naomi.”

  A tickle in my throat caused me to cough. I covered my mouth. The walls were thin, the vents everywhere. There were no secrets inside this house.

  They had heard me. I heard the backdoor swung open and banged shut. I would hear no more confessions and regrets that night. I looked down and noticed I was twirling my hair with my fingers.

2

June 1996

We’d been driving for days in a Chrysler LeBaron that I am not positive we actually owned. My mother had smoked at least eight packs of Benson & Hedges and I’d drank at least two packs of Pepsi by the time we got to Rutledgeville, Virginia.

“Good Lord, I am sick of this damn car,” I said as I stretched my arms and legs at the Chevron around the corner from my grandma’s house.

“Not as sick of it as me. These are the times I wish you had your driver’s license.” My mother pushed the door shut with her rear as two doughy men at the pump next to us stared.

“You didn’t seem to care about me having a license when you let me drive back there in New Mexico.” I smirked as I slipped my flip flops on, “That was fun.”

“Let’s not mention it again, shall we? Although I did appreciate it, baby. Momma was so tired.” She pulled out her lighter and I yanked it away from her before she could make a move with it.

“Might not be the smartest idea to light up near flammables. Besides, we’re two minutes from the house, she’ll smell it all over you.”

My mother pouted, “I don’t care. I’m thirty-two years old. I can do what I want.”

“Ha. Keep telling yourself that. And you’re thirty-four.”

Mom flipped me off as she sashayed into the convenience store. Lovely.

I pulled out the gas nozzle and waited for the attendant to turn the pump on. The doughy men were staring at me now, making me uncomfortable. I wondered if they had daughters of their own and how they would feel if they were being stared down by a couple of creeps at a gas station. Momma liked this kind of attention. I hated it.

As the gas started flowing through the nozzle into the car I think about Grandma. She’s the reason we’re finally back for good. Mom had been vague on the details, but I knew it couldn’t be great news. There’s very little I could think of that would make my mother come back to Rutledgeville, or the “Rut” as she called it.

* * *

  It had been just Mom and me since I was seven and she convinced Grandma and Granddaddy to let her take me to live in North Carolina. It took two years since returning back to gain a little bit of their trust. They said it sounded okay since North Carolina wasn’t so far. They insisted on her bringing me back to Rutledgeville at least once a month or so. I can still feel the hug around my neck Grandma gave me the day we left.

I wouldn’t see her again for two years.

We didn’t go to North Carolina. We were in Texas three days later. I remember being terrified. I felt like I was being kidnapped, which in a way I was. Mom wouldn’t let me call Grandma for almost two weeks once we got to Dallas. Our first phone call was full of tears even though my mother was next to me trying to script me, telling me to tell Grandma I was so happy in Dallas, that I loved my new school, that Mom loved her new job as a paralegal.

Grandma was livid. She threatened to call the police. But it was no use and she knew it. There had never been any sort of adoption or even a legal custodial arrangement made in Virginia. I think my Grandma never figured Mom would come back.

My mother was not a paralegal and I did not like my new school. Mom danced at a place called The Alibi and I suffered through the second grade. The girls in Texas all wore different clothes than me. Mom bought all my stuff at Goodwill and all her dancer “uniforms” at a store I wasn’t allowed to go in with her. She couldn’t afford Keds so I took blue sharpie and drew small squares on the heels of my Kmart rip offs. The kids crucified me for that one. My stomach hurt all day. Momma had to pour Pepto down my throat every morning to get me out the door and on my way.

My mother didn’t join the PTA. I did my homework in the back of our station wagon while she danced. She would check on me on her breaks. We would be home by midnight. I shared a double bed with her at a weekly motel unless we were shacking up with one of her boyfriends.

This lasted until I was in seventh grade. That’s when she got the idea to move to Vegas. She had heard from her dancer friends that Vegas was where the biggest bucks were and Mom had a few people in town she wanted to get away from. We packed up in the middle of the night and left. I was happy enough with this, especially since I was supposed to have a math test the next day which I hadn’t studied for. I slept while she hummed to the Bluegrass station.

I had visited Grandma and Granddaddy about four times since I left them. Always on their dime, of course. I would stay with them for a couple weeks on my summer breaks and they would take me to Myrtle Beach where we would get sun tans and read thick paper backs all day. On our last night we always went to a seafood restaurant and stuffed our faces with all-you-can-eat shrimp.

I was always sad to leave them.

We were in Vegas a year when Granddaddy died. It was the first funeral I had ever been to and it was horrible. Grandma and Mom got in a fight and we left three days sooner than we were supposed to. I wasn’t allowed to come back to visit Grandma for a year. I was so angry at Mom for that. All I could think about was how much Grandma needed us.

My mother seemed to have a problem with her for a reason I didn’t understand. I never asked. She wouldn’t have told me the truth anyway. Such was her way.

Vegas was alright. I made friends with the girls on my street. We rode our bikes and bought tamales from a man that sold them out of his cooler on the corner. School was better than Texas because everyone shopped at Goodwill, not just me, so it was one less thing to get shit for. Mom made great money working at The Diamond Club down on Paradise near the airport. We had a lot more stuff and I had my own room for once with posters of Jonathan Taylor Thomas all over the wall. It wasn’t so bad.

Life was dramatic at times, because that’s the only way my mother thrived. But all in all, Vegas had been good to us.

On my last day of tenth grade Mom got a phone call that made her face go white. For the next few days she was on the phone constantly. She barely worked. I caught her staring into the void a lot. I would snap my fingers at her and she would smile and ask me to get her a cigarette.

The next week I came back from my friend Marisol’s and Mom was packing up a car I had never seen before. Until that morning we drove a very large, black SUV. Sitting in our driveway now was an old Chrysler LeBaron and she was dumping a laundry basket full of my clothes into the trunk of it.

“Kicking me out already? I thought I had until at least eighteen. Thanks for the car though,” I said as Marisol’s mom drove away. Mom looked up at me like she was surprised to see me.

“Oh, I thought you were spending the night at your friend’s. No, we’ve got to get out of here. Some stuff has happened,” she started walking fast back to the house. I followed her in pissed off pursuit.

“What do you mean? What happened? Do you owe Russell money? You’ve been so weird the last few days, is this what it’s about?” Russell was Mom’s boss and kind-of boyfriend.

She was in her room now stuffing shoes into a suitcase, “No, I don’t owe him money but I had to give him the truck back. He wouldn’t let me take it to Virginia since I can’t tell him when we’ll be back.” She went to her closet and started pulling clothes off the hangers.

“Virginia? We’re going back to Grandma’s?” I sat on the edge of her bed which was stripped of the bedding. It was all piled up in the middle of it.

Her voice was muffled from the closet, “Yeah. It’s a lot to explain, I just gotta get us packed up as much as I can. Cristy’s going to stay here until I figure out what’s what.”

“Well… What is what? Why are we leaving?”

She didn’t answer me and I could hear that she wasn’t moving around in the closet.

“Mom? What is going on?”

“I don’t know how to tell you. Let me think.” I could hear the hangers being pushed around.

“Just tell me! You’re freaking me out!”

She came out of the closet, her arms filled with clothing. She dumped it on the bed next to me.

“Grandma needs us. Aunt Shayla called me a few days ago. That’s all I can say for now because there’s not much else I know.” I knew it wasn’t the truth. Aunt Shayla was Grandma’s sister and she had never called my mother before, she couldn’t stand her. I remembered the look on her face when she got the phone call. She knew much more than what she was saying she knew.

I didn’t want to connect the dots. I learned a long time ago never to ask questions I didn’t want to know the answers to.

I picked up the pile of clothes and asked, “When are we leaving?”

“Now,” she said, “As soon as we can.”

* * *

“We gassed up, girl?” Mom asked as she tossed me a pack of sunflower seeds.

“Yeah. All set. You can’t put it off any longer,” I said opening the passenger side door.

“Put off what?” Momma stood outside her open door pulling her long hair into a knot.

“Seeing Grandma. I figured that’s why we’re gassing up even though we’re only two minutes away from our destination.” I pull open the sunflower seeds.

“I just like to be prepared,” she said slowly pulling her lithe body into the driver’s seat.

“Prepared for what? We’ll get there, she’ll say something snide, you’ll get offended, she’ll comment on how skinny you are, you’ll ignore it, she’ll bitch about the smell of cigarettes on you and you’ll stomp up to your room. She’ll wait a few minutes and go out to the back porch to have a cigarette not caring it makes her a bit of a hypocrite,” I smile at her, “It’s such a beautiful relationship y’all have.”

“Well. I don’t know what’s going to happen this time,” she says staring at nothing.

  We sit there for at least a minute waiting for her to turn the car on.

* * *

Even having lived with my mom on our own for ten years she remained the ultimate mystery to me. She never elaborated on where she had been the first six years of my life except to say the clichéd “I was finding out who I was.” I had no inkling who my father was and my greatest fear was that my mother didn’t know either. I hid under a fear of who my mother might really be on the inside. I feared it was genetic and that her brokenness sat inside my DNA, waiting to be triggered so it could flourish.

As we silently drove up the long and winding road that is Grandma’s driveway I figured that we must be running from something. I was happy not to know what it was. Ignorance, in my case, was my best friend and ally. I couldn’t be anxious about things I didn’t know were happening.

Grandma has one of the longest driveways in the world. It’s always seemed that way, anyway. It’s lined with live oaks, branches that hang over the drive. I count them as we slowly move up. There are twenty-three total.

When we get closer to the house I can see my Aunt Shayla’s minivan. She’s had it since I was a kid. It’s blue with wood paneling on the side and Bush/Quayle stickers pepper the bumper.

“Aunt Shayla needs a new car.”

Momma nods, not saying a word. She really is anxious.

Our car slows to a stop next to Grandma’s truck. Momma pulls up the emergency break and reaches for another cigarette.

“Momma! Not now! Can’t you wait?” I open my door and can hear the song of the cicadas in the woods behind Grandma’s house.

“No. I can’t. I need it. Addie, there’s something you should-“

Momma is interrupted by the opening and slamming of a screen door. My Great-Aunt Shayla stands on the porch in one of her muumuu dresses, slippers, and a bottle of beer in her hand.

“Y’all took your damn time,” she says taking a swig.

“Nice to see you too, Auntie,” I say walking back to the trunk, “Mom, can you pop it?”

The trunk pops and I start pulling out the garbage bags filled with our life. The suitcases are heavy. I decide to leave those for later.

“What took y’all so long? She stayed up waiting. Naomi, you told us you’d be here this mornin’.” Aunt Shayla waddled down the steps of a house that had been in my family for almost a century, “I mean, the last thing your momma needs is to be worried.”

Mom finally stepped out of the car. Aunt Shayla eyed her disapprovingly, “Smoking? Oh good Lord, Naomi. Where’s your head at?”

“Shayla, Addie doesn’t know yet.”

Everyone froze.

“Addie doesn’t know what?” I said slamming the trunk shut, “What the hell is going on?”

Aunt Shayla shuffled down the stairs, “What the hell? You drove across country and it never came up?”

Momma stared down, “I just didn’t know how to tell her.”

I was shaking. I dropped the bags as Aunt Shayla took me by the shoulders. I looked into her cloudy eyes and underneath her droopy lids I could see how wet they were. Tears.

“Oh sweet, baby. Honey, your grandma is real sick. She’s got the cancer. Lung cancer.”

My stomach dropped. I pulled away from her and leaned on the LeBaron. The hood was hot under my hand.

The cicadas kept singing. But my world as I had known it, no longer existed.

3

“We are the result of thousands and thousands of people who fell in love. You are a piece of all of them.”

My Grandma told me this the day I called her to tell her I was being bullied at school in Texas. I had bought a phone card from the 7-11 and after my mom left to go out on a date with her latest boyfriend, I had taken my chance.

“Grandma, what does that have to do with anything?” I was eleven years old. My period had come two weeks before. Mom had run out of pads and was too hung over to go to the store so she told me to stuff my underwear with toilet paper. I wore tapered jeans that rode up my shins because I had been wearing them since I was nine. My hair was different than the girls in my class. Everything about me was different and wrong. I needed my Grandma to impart practical wisdom. I wanted her to share the secrets that everyone else seemed to know but me.

“It has to do with everything. These girls are simple. They don’t have the layers of depth that you have. You frighten them because you are a mystery and unlike anything they have seen. You are the product of generations of survivors and people who traveled far to get you here. Simple girls from Texas can’t bother you. Their cruelty only shows their own fear.” I could hear her lighting up a cigarette. The flick of the lighter was unmistakable.

“I thought you quit?” I walked with the cordless phone over to the refrigerator. I might as well eat my feelings if I wasn’t going to get the validation I needed.

“I’m weaning myself. It’s bad to quit something all at once,” she said. I rolled my eyes as I pulled cold cuts and mustard off the almost barren shelves.

“Grandma, I seriously need help. I don’t need any sort of veiled wisdom dressed up like advice. I need answers. I need to know what I can do to make life less shitty.”

“Oh, Addie. Don’t swear. Let’s start there.”

“Sorry, Grandma. I just don’t know what to do. I find myself slipping into the role of wallflower and that’s not what Saved By the Bell promised me. I’m not a background player. I’m a Kelly Kapowski. I just can’t afford to look like one.”

Grandma exhaled on the other end, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetie. All I know is Kelly could never compare to Addison McCurtis. You’re smart and funny. A little quirky but you’re also beautiful so you can get away with that. And I’ll be blunt with you, angel. None of this is important. In five, ten years you won’t remember the names of these girls. You’ll be too busy doing something that matters. So why give them this power over your mind? The worst thing you could do to them is not care what they think. And the person that cares the least in any relationship is always the one with the most power. Remember that one, Addie. It will help you more than you realize.”

That was incredibly easy for Grandma to say. She had never been someone like me. People who were beautiful didn’t live in the same universe as everyone else. My grandma was a former beauty queen. Runner up in the Miss Virginia pageant in 1954. She had done catalogue modeling and been proposed to almost a dozen times before my granddaddy had pinned her down. I doubted she had lived through this kind of thing. And weren’t people back in the 40’s too busy fighting a war to be cruel to one another? In our history book there were photos of women in overalls and makeup, working in factories, smiling at one another over the conveyor belt of an assembly line. Women united for the cause. The girls in my class were an entirely different animal. All that mattered to them was that I wasn’t like them. It was possibly the worst crime a middle school girl could commit.

“Grandma, I appreciate you listening to me. I should probably do my homework. If I have to fail socially at least I can try to rise above mediocrity academically.” I slumped against the refrigerator door and shoved an entire slice of thick pastrami into my mouth.

“You aren’t failing anything, angel. I wish I could say what you needed me to say but you know I would never lie to you. Certain phases in life just have to be survived. I believe junior high is probably the first of the tough ones. You’ll be fine, my love. Remember that I am always here for you. Even when the storm is raging, you have me to come home to.”

And with that, we hung up.

4

“Addie?”

My mother’s voice seemed far away. My hand still lay on the hot hood of our car.

I stumbled forward, away from her and my aunt. I needed to sit. I found the front steps of my grandma’s porch just as I had left them last. I laid down and faced the haint blue painted ceiling and watched the porch fan whirling. The sound of “cancer” still echoed in my ears.

Grandma had smoked all my life and probably many of my lives before that. Every photo I had of her included a cigarette. Her closet would open and menthol would hit your nostrils. I shouldn’t have been this surprised, but I was shocked. Statistics mean nothing to most people. Especially teenagers. They were the numbers that applied to other people. Not to Grandma.

“Addie, are you okay?” Aunt Shayla’s doughy, concerned face was above mine now. I shook my head.

“Naomi, I can’t believe you didn’t tell her!” My aunt turned to my mother who was sitting on the grass, legs crossed, like a sullen teenager.

“I didn’t know how! I thought about doing it the entire drive but there was never a good segue.” My mom buried her head in her hands, “I always screw up.”

Aunt Shayla rolled her eyes and looked back at me. I was sitting up and staring at the lawn gnome.

“Addie, I’m so sorry. What can I do, baby?” My aunt collapsed next to me on the steps causing the wooden boards to cry under her weight.

“Nothing,” I said, “I’m just so tired. I want to fall asleep and wake up yesterday where this isn’t happening.”

* * *

As usual, my mother had decided to keep my own life a secret from me.

Momma had gotten in her car and left. It’s what she did best. She promised to be back in a little while but I didn’t care if she ever came back. My life had always been more peaceful in her absence.

Crying myself to sleep was nothing foreign but sobbing myself to sleep, choking on my own despondency, was something new. The thought of my life without Grandma was too much to bear. She had been my constant; the thing in my life that I knew was there even when I was swept thousands of miles away from her in a sea of my own mother’s bullshit.

* * *

I tossed and turned most of the night. At 3 am it rained very hard for about five minutes. I stared at the ceiling fan and thought about how much I wished I could rewind my life. I would go all the way back to the beginning and somehow fix all of this. I would have gone all the way back to the beginning of time if I could.

I finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep. I woke up around nine, hot from the sun pouring in through the plantation blinds. I sat up and listened to the house. I could hear voices in the kitchen but they were hushed. I assumed it was Mom and Aunt Shayla. I was still wearing my clothes from the previous day and the scents of nicotine and gas stations coated my hair and skin. If I had to face this day, I would face it clean. I headed to the shower.

Thirty minutes later I sauntered into the kitchen. Aunt Shayla’s wide back was to me at the stove, making eggs and bacon from the smell of it. As I turned the corner to sit at the table my heart dropped.

Grandma was at the table, or at least someone that would be mistaken for Grandma if they were prepared to see her weighing about 90 pounds. My grandma has always been more voluptuous, wide hips, big boobs, rolls. This woman with Grandma’s face was gaunt. Her eyes had dark circles, her cheeks were sunken. She wore a terry cloth robe that swallowed her up. Her hands were delicately folded in her lap, one scrawny leg crossed over the other.

“Addie…” she said, her voice thin, not the voice I had last spoken to just a month prior.

She reached out her hand for me and as much as I didn’t want to, I began to cry.

Aunt Shayla stood there quietly as I kneeled in front of Grandma, putting my head in her lap like I did when I was a little girl. I could feel her hands combing through my wet hair.

“It’s ok, sweet Addie,” Grandma said, her voice stronger, “I’m right here. Your hair smells so nice. I have missed you, darlin’. I’m sorry you’re seein’ me like this.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

Aunt Shayla spoke, “Addie, believe it or not, she’s doin’ real good today. It’s a rare thing that I get her into the kitchen for breakfast. I think you might be her best medicine yet.”

I knew she was saying it to make me feel better but it made me cry harder. If this was Grandma on a good day, I dreaded the bad ones.

When I was finally able to calm down a bit, Aunt Shayla brought me a plate of fried eggs, bacon, and grits. Grandma nibbled on some dry toast, a pile of pills next to a glass of water sat in front of her.

“My remedies,” she smiled.

“That’s a lot of pills. What do they do?” I asked pushing the eggs around on my plate.

“Nothin’ much, to be honest. Been thinkin’ about not takin’ them anymore.”

We ate in silence. I could hear the television buzzing in the other room. Kathie Lee and Regis were interviewing Tom Cruise. Someone’s lawnmower rattled in the distance.

“Have you seen Mom?” I finally said. Aunt Shayla and Grandma looked at one another.

“Your momma came home around six. She’s sleeping her night off,” Aunt Shayla said shortly. She wasn’t happy and neither was I. Mom had gone out drinking last night? What the hell was wrong with her?

Grandma could sense my agitation and touched my arm, “Why don’t you go get the mail, baby? Maybe take a walk? It’s a pretty day.”

“What are you going to do?” I picked up both our plates and put them in the sink, “Do you need to go anywhere?”

“No, honey, I’m just going to rest on the porch today. Take a nap. Maybe read a bit. We can play cards later if you want.”

“Yeah, that would be great.” I stared out the window above the sink, “Maybe a walk would be nice. I won’t be gone long. Aunt Shayla, will you be around awhile?”

Aunt Shayla nodded, “Yep. I want to catch up on some laundry. Might even snap some beans for dinner tonight.”

I looked at Grandma who looked so small and helpless, so far from who I remembered. I thought of Mom sleeping in her room like nothing was wrong and I wanted to throw something, to scream.

“I hate to leave you. It’s just…”

“Addie,” my Grandma’s old voice was back for a moment, “It’s just a walk. I’ll be here when you get back and we can talk as much or as little as you like. Shayla told me this was a big surprise for you and I am so sorry. But get some air, baby. Take a walk and clear your precious head.”

* * *

Grandma’s mailbox sits at the end of her driveway, a long walk.

I decided to sit in the backyard for a while. My old swing set still sat in the back, rusty with its legs sunk into the grass. My ass barely fit in the seat. The house stared back at me, along with everything that had happened to me in it. My mind wandered to all the games of hide and seek, the late mornings running under sprinklers, and burnt hamburgers and hotdogs in the dog days of July. Grandma would sit behind me on the back steps and braid my thick, frizzy hair and spray insect repellant all over my body. My mother wasn’t around and I was happy. Some would say even happier than the days since her return.

I had spent my life asking so many questions of myself. Who was my dad? Hell, who was my mother? What was there before me? What had made her leave? What had made her come back? Any time I had broached these questions with her I had gotten nothing in return. So I stopped asking. Grandma and Granddaddy were no better at connecting the dots and they seemed to be as lost as I was. I knew there was something I was missing, but I figured maybe it was better I didn’t know. Maybe it was better not to ask questions you didn’t want to know the answers to.

This situation with Grandma was different. My mother should have told me as soon as she knew. I was fifteen now. I knew a little bit about how life worked. Why hadn’t she told me? Because it was too hard for her? As usual, she had wanted someone else to do the things that were hard. It was her way. I was sick of it. Now she was laid up in her room and hung over. Grandma was dying and my mother just drank.

As I pushed myself on the swing, I thought about what happened next. How sick was Grandma really? Was she doing chemo? I had never seen anyone look as sick as Grandma looked.

“It’s been at least ten years since anyone’s been on that swing set.”

I turned toward the voice. A pretty blond girl, around my age, stood against one of the oaks. Her hair was half up, half down. She wore overalls with a bikini top underneath, no shoes. She looked familiar but I couldn’t place her.

“Has it? You’ve been around that long?” I asked. She smiled.

“Addie, you don’t remember me? I guess that’s understandable. Last time I saw you we both had most of our baby teeth,” she sauntered over taking the swing next to me, “I’m McKenna.”

Of course! McKenna Holt. The Holts had been my grandma’s neighbors since I was six, about a year before Mom took me away. McKenna had been one of those girls who every little girl in school stared at in wonder. She always wore the prettiest clothes, had the perfect French braids, raised her hand and always had the correct answer. People like McKenna never went through awkward phases. Even right now she looked perfect. Not a hair out of place. Her overalls, meant to be casual, were adorable on her flawless figure. She had boobs and a tan. Why did it not shock me life had treated her so kindly?

“Actually, I’m surprised you remember me,” I said dragging my feet through the dirt. McKenna reminded me of the girls in Texas who had told me I dressed like trailer trash. I was a little guarded.

“How could I forget? Your grandma only talks about you every other five minutes,” she said as she slowly moved side to side next to me, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. Sorry if I don’t have much to say. I kind of just found out what’s going on.”

“Yeah?” McKenna stopped moving for a moment, “I guess that doesn’t surprise me. Your grandma kind of kept it from all of us for a while. My parents just told me about a week ago. I’m very sorry.”

“Thanks. I mean… You don’t need to be sorry. Aunt Shayla says it’s bad but this is the ‘90s, they’ve got so much advanced stuff to treat this kind of thing. She looks bad but she’s taking like two pounds of meds a day. I am sure they must be helping in some kind of way…” I trailed off feeling stupid.

“That’s true. Miracles happen all the time. My mom’s got the whole church praying for her. I think just about every church in town has her on the prayer list. If you believe in that kind of thing, it has to be comforting. Just the people thinking of her and all. So you never know. If anyone deserves to beat this, it’s your grandma.”

I nodded and we both swung again, side by side, in silence. It was awkward and I wanted to talk about pretty much any other subject but cancer or prayer. God had never been on my radar.

“Is your dad still a dentist?” I broke the silence.

McKenna nodded, “Yep. He’s expanded in the last couple of years. Has an office over in Lynchburg that he goes to twice a week.”

“And your mom?”

“Still stays at home. She’s been trying to write a romance novel the last couple of years.” McKenna looked at me like she had just said something she didn’t mean to say.

“Really? That’s actually pretty cool. Have you read it?”

McKenna looked relieved, “It’s just weird. No, I haven’t read it. The last thing a girl wants to see is her mom’s made up sex scenes on paper. Ugh.”

I laughed really hard at that. It was a great point. No kid wants to even think about the knowledge that their parents hold as far as sex goes. I already knew too much about my mom. I tried my best to think of her as an asexual being, which was hard most of the time being that she had been a stripper most of my life. Also, my mother’s main humor arsenal consisted of cheesy sexual innuendos that she had learned from her customers. It was enough to make me want to bleach my brain at times.

“Well,” I said, “At least she’s going for it. Maybe she’s the next Danielle Steele.”

“The thought has crossed her mind, believe me. I think she just doesn’t know what to do with herself now that I am in high school. She’s bored. Just like everyone else in the world.”

A light breeze hit us carrying the scent of freshly cut grass. It was a good moment. I suddenly remembered I was supposed to be getting the mail.

“Want to walk with me to the mail boxes?” I asked.

“For sure. I need to see if my new Seventeen has come anyway. My friend Rhiannon got hers two days ago.”

“Rhiannon? Like the song?”

“Yep. Her mom is like a super fan or something.”

“It’s a good song.”

“Rhiannon hates it.”

We started walking barefoot down my grandma’s long driveway. As a kid I had used her pedometer to see how long it was while piggy backing on Granddaddy’s back. “Half a mile,” he had said, “One fifty-secondth of a marathon. And you did it!”

“Do you have plans tonight?” McKenna hopped over a large root sticking out of the ground.

“I don’t think so. My mom is hungover so I’m guessing she’ll just play sick on the couch while Aunt Shayla cooks some fat riddled meal. I might need to help with Grandma.”

“Well, there’s a cookout at this guy Kyle Joel’s house,” she said, “Well. I say ‘this guy’ but he’s more than that. He’s kind of my current sort-of love interest of the moment. But I’m not sure he knows that yet. Anyway, Rhiannon will be there and a couple other people. I think you and her would get along really well. It might be fun to get on out for a couple hours, you know?”

It was hard to think of having any kind of fun. But being away from the house of doom and gloom didn’t sound so horrible. Being away from my mother sounded like a great idea, anyway. I suspected Grandma would go to bed early.

“If I’m not needed at home, for sure. I would like that. How long has Rhiannon lived here?”

McKenna hopped over another live oak root, “She moved here a couple of years after you left. She’s from a pretty big family. They live near Pritchett Road.” She looked at me knowingly.

“Oh, yeah. Kind of a rough area,” I replied. I remembered that much.

“Yeah. So it’s always good for her to get out. Her family is a little… different.”

“I can relate to that.”

We reached the boxes. Sure enough, McKenna had her Seventeen magazine.

“This makes my whole week! And Drew Barrymore is on the cover!” She jumped on my shoulders, hugging me, “And we’re going to a cookout! With boys! And beer! Well. Maybe beer. Depends on if Bode can convince his brother to get us some. But the night is full of possibilities! Can’t you feel it?”

I smiled at her excitement. It was nice to be around that kind of energy. It helped me forget, momentarily, what was really going on.

* * *

After I said goodbye to McKenna I walked back to the house. Music blared from an open window on the second floor. My mother was awake and listening to Kenny Loggins.

I marched upstairs. The shower was running yet the music was blaring on max volume from her empty bedroom. Defiantly, I walked over and switched off the boom box on her dresser drawers. The sudden silence rang in my ears.

“Hey! Shayla! What’s the deal?” I heard her yell over the running water.

I ignored her indignant plea and slammed my own bedroom door closed. It was ridiculous. Grandma was probably napping. And even if she wasn’t, who over the age of nineteen listened to music that loud? My mother lived her life as if she was the only one who existed in her space. This was the worst time to be so selfish.

About ten minutes later she stood in my doorway wrapped in a towel, her wet hair dripping on the floor.

“Do you mind?” I asked, “You’re getting my floor wet.”

“Have you lost your mind? What was that about?”

I couldn’t even look at her. I was seething.

“Mom,” I said in a hushed voice, “Are you aware your mother has cancer?”

Her expression darkened, “More aware than you know. How dare you challenge me? I’m your mother. I know you’re upset but-“

“Bullshit, Mom,” I said, “You had four days to tell me what we were driving to. You also went to a bar last night, slept in and are now playing music loud enough for Jesus himself to hear and your cancer stricken mother is trying to take a nap. So my question is completely reasonable. You are not acting like a daughter. Or a mother.”

The slap was so quick. She jumped across the room, her towel dropping to the floor and smacked me across my face. When I turned back to look at her she stood stark naked, crying.

“You little bitch! Don’t you dare talk to me like that! Your mouth is the last thing I need. Remember your place! My momma would have jerked a knot in my tail if I ever spoke to her the way you speak to me. You best watch yourself.”

I stood up to her. I was taller, probably by at least two inches. For a moment she seemed to cower. She had never hit me before. Her parenting flaws were negligence and self-indulgence, not violence. The feel of her hand across my cheek still sat on my face.

“It’s too bad your mother couldn’t have been mine,” I said, “But here’s to hoping being a great mother doesn’t skip more than one generation.” With that I was out the door, down the stairs, and back into the woods of my own discontent. I thought I would feel better having told my mother my true thoughts. But instead I felt worse than I had ever felt in my life.

* * *

I climbed one of the low hanging branches of the live oaks between McKenna’s house and my grandma’s for an hour or so. Finally, as expected, my mother sauntered out of the house in a short little sundress and platform flip flops. One would never have guessed she had just been in a terrible fight with her daughter or that she had a mother dying of cancer. She practically had a skip in her step. She was off to the bar. Her long love affair with whiskey and jukeboxes would continue on. It was the one thing she did consistently.

As soon as I saw the LeBaron pull away I walked towards the back porch to see if Grandma was there.

She had fallen asleep in her lounge chair, tiny and frail. She looked like she could slip right through the plastic slats. On her chest was an open Flannery O’Connor book, the same one she read every summer.

As soon as my feet hit the steps, she stirred. Grandma had always been the lightest sleeper.

“Angel!” she exclaimed, her arms outstretched, “Am I dreaming or are you really here?”

I laughed, “Oh I’m here alright. I was wondering if you were up for some Rummy.”

Grandma nodded enthusiastically, the scarf around her head shifting. Tufts of stringy gray poked out. She adjusted it, embarrassed.

“I’ll grab the cards. Do you need anything?” I asked reaching for her hand. When she took it I was alarmed at the birdlike boniness. I felt like even holding her hand would break it.

“Lay with me. Snuggle me, like when you were small. I’ll read to you for a bit,” she scooted over and patted the space. Sadly, there was plenty of room for another person.

“Well, I can’t resist a good snuggle,” I admitted sliding in next to her. The sharpness of her hip joined my fleshier one. My grandma had always been a woman with meat to her, with substance and hardiness. She was something to be held onto.

But that afternoon, for the first time in my life, I held my grandma and listened to the words of her favorite author.

5

“I don’t need to know how to read.” I was five years old and I had started Kindergarten a couple of weeks prior. I was already struggling.

“Just because something is difficult doesn’t mean you aren’t expected to do it, Addison,” Grandma was scrubbing the pots from dinner. She was up to her chubby elbows in dingy suds.

“Grandma,” I said sweetly, climbing the step stool next to her so I could be closer to her face, “You can just do all my reading for me. You love to read. You’re good at it and I enjoy listening. So as long as I have you, I don’t need to learn! I don’t even need to go to school! I can stay home with you and help with chores. We can watch All My Children every day!” My grandma had started letting me watch her stories with her. I didn’t understand what was really happening but I thought Erica Kane was beautiful.

Grandma stopped scrubbing, “Well, what if I’m not around one day? What would you do then? Reading is very important. You want to be an actress, right?”

I shook my head, “Not anymore. I want to be a dentist. Like McKenna’s daddy. He gets to help people learn to brush! And I bet he gets a lot of free toothbrushes. And Granddaddy says dentists make a killing. So I could buy a house right next door to you with a hot tub and a big Cadillac out front. And dentists don’t have to read, Grandma. All they do is clean teeth and ask you how your family is doing even though I can never answer because he’s brushing my teeth.”

Grandma chuckled, “You are something, angel. Well, first off, dentists definitely have to know how to read. They have to read charts and X-rays and all kinds of things. They have to be able to read the labels of their supplies so they know who needs what. They also go to school for a very long time to learn how to be a dentist which I imagine requires quite a bit of reading. So if your heart is set on dentistry I am afraid reading is still a must.”

I immediately burst into tears.

“Angel! Addison! What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Grandma gathered me into her soapy arms. Her feathered hairdo brushed against me, the tears causing it to stick to my cheeks.

“Grandma, I’m too dumb to learn. The letters all look mixed up to me on the page. I don’t see what other people see. My teacher calls on me to tell her the word and I get so scared because everyone is looking at me. Yesterday Granddaddy had to pour Pepto down my throat to get me out the door because my stomach hurt so badly. I want to learn things but I’m not smart enough, Grandma. I am not smart enough or good enough and that’s why my mommy and daddy left me. And now you’ll leave me. Because I can’t do any of it.”

I could almost hear my grandma’s heart stop beating underneath me.

“Addison,” her voice shook, “you are so wrong that it breaks my heart, sweet angel.”

I quietly sobbed under her chin as she rubbed my back in circles.

“There is absolutely nothing,” she said, her voice more assertive, “that you could ever do to make me leave. The thing that would make me do something like that doesn’t exist. You can never learn to read. Or count. Or be pretty. Or be funny. Or be sweet and kind. You could be and do none of those things and I would still love you and stick with you until the end of my life. Do you understand? Addison, you are the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. No one is leaving anyone in this house. And all those things I just listed? You are all of them and more. You will always be enough, Addison. You are so much more than enough that there isn’t a word for it.”

I hugged her tight, “Promise me, Grandma. Promise you’re here forever. That you’ll read to me even when I do finally learn. And love me when I don’t love myself.”

She nodded above me, “Oh that’s about the easiest thing to promise. And you’ve gotta promise me something too, angel. You’ve gotta know that sometimes even when things are true and unchangeable, they can always be something we can stomach. If we’re in it together. Whether that’s reading or missing your mommy. If we stick together, we can’t lose. Okay?”

“Okay.” I smiled, “If I know you’re not leaving I think I can handle anything.”

6

McKenna told me to meet up at her house around eight. I had spent an hour in my room going through my luggage deciding what to wear. I’d even gone through Mom’s stuff while she was downstairs watching a rerun of Cheers on the couch. We still hadn’t spoken.

I settled on jean shorts, a floral tank top, and Birkenstocks. The tank top and shorts I had recently bought from the Delia’s catalog. I looked in the mirror and shrugged. If Rhiannon was as beautiful as McKenna I was going to be the plainest girl at this get together.

It’s not that I thought I was ugly. I knew I was ok looking and half pretty on my best days. I had thick auburn hair like my mom and olive skin that was nothing like her at all. I assumed I got that from my father. I was thicker than I wanted to be, but what girl doesn’t want to lose a few pounds? None that I had ever met. My mom was constantly nagging on me to watch what I ate, another thing to add to the long checklist of things that bothered me about her. At the same time she was the one who always bought me cookies, candy bars, and soda when I was sad. She was both my enabler and my critic. That about defined our relationship.

McKenna’s house is separated from Grandma’s by an acre of woods with a worn path snaking through it. It was still light out so it was an easy enough walk. The Holts have an enormous screened in wraparound porch and I could see the silhouette of a girl dancing under the haint blue ceiling that all southern porches seem to have. I also heard a sing songy laugh that I knew wasn’t McKenna’s.

“Rhiannon! It’s Addie!” I heard McKenna call out. She was the dancing silhouette. A tall, lanky red head stood up from the porch swing. This was Rhiannon. She was long in every way. Long legs, long arms, long torso, and long, beautiful red hair that was bone straight and hung down almost to her waist. She looked like a Delia’s model. The girl who wears boyish cargo pants but somehow makes them look sexy. What would she think of ordinary me?

“Hey, Addie,” Rhiannon immediately jumped forward and held out her hand. She had long thin fingers and bony wrists.

“Hi, Rhiannon. Good to meet you.” Her hand shake was sturdy. My granddaddy would have approved.

“McKenna told me you’re here for the summer. I’m really sorry about your grandma,” she said, her voice changing. “I don’t get to see my grandma much but I would be torn to pieces if she was ever sick. I don’t know what else to say besides I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. I appreciate it,” I nodded, a little uncomfortable. “Is your mom going to drive us? I forgot to ask how we were getting there.”

McKenna spun around me and tousled my hair. “Nope! Rhiannon is going to drive us!”

I looked at Rhiannon, “You have your license?”

Rhiannon looked sheepishly down at her foam platform flip flops, “Not exactly.”

McKenna piped in. She was full of energy tonight. “She definitely doesn’t, but she drives us around all the time. The cops give her a pass, it’s a long story. But she has her brother’s Buick. Big Rhoda!”

“Big Rhoda?” I asked.

“That’s what I call her,” said Rhiannon. “I don’t drive her much. She’s a big boat of a car. I just drive her home when my dad can’t…” She trailed off.

“When he’s too drunk to drive himself?” I asked.

They both stared at me.

“Yeah, something like that,” Rhiannon’s cheeks reddened.

“Rhiannon,” I said, wrapping my arm around her, “We already have something in common. I drove all the way through New Mexico on my way here. My mom is a wreck.”

Rhiannon looked at me and laughed, “Alright, Addie. I like you already.”

Nothing bonds teenagers more than the realization that they have the same problems.

* * *

Kyle Joel is the party kid of Rutledgeville.

“Not that this says much,” explained McKenna as we slowly drove down a rural back road, “In the Rut there’s not much to do. A party here is a keg and something set on fire.”

“It’s too hot for a bonfire so he’s barbecuing the venison that’s been sitting in his freezer all winter,” added Rhiannon as she made a left onto yet another dark rural road.

“Venison?” I ask.

They both look at one another and laugh, “Deer meat. You never had it?”

“No,” I admit. “I haven’t. Is it good?”

“Eh,” said McKenna. “It’s whatever. It tastes like the Rut so I am not a huge fan.”

We sat in silence for a couple minutes while a No Doubt song played.

“So this Kyle Joel guy? You like him?” I asked from the back seat.

Rhiannon giggled, “She’s obsessed with him. I personally think he’s a dick.”

McKenna scrunched her nose and lightly smacked Rhiannon on her arm, “I am not obsessed. I’m intrigued. There’s a difference. And I don’t know why you think he’s a dick.”

Rhiannon shrugged, “He gives me a vibe. A dick vibe. And what’s so intriguing about him? There’s no mystery there. Kyle Joel likes football, beer, and killing his own food. He also likes to refer to girls as ‘bitches’ and says things like ‘Rock out with your cock out.’ Seriously. He’s such a-”

“Dick.” I finish her sentence and we both laugh. McKenna pouts in the passenger seat.

“Y’all don’t know him. He’s more complicated than that. He just doesn’t show it to everyone.”

After about fifteen minutes of slowly driving through unpaved roads, we reached a long ranch style brick house surrounded by acres of flat land. Part of it looked like it might have once been used for crops but it was hard to tell now that it was dark. A rusty John Deere was slumped next to a Camaro in the driveway.

“Bode is here,” said McKenna, “Addie, he might be for you. He’s an ass guy.”

I knew my face was red, “Uh, ok.”

McKenna turned to look at me, “That’s a compliment, girl. You rocked those shorts for a reason. It’s summer time! It’s okay to be a little sexy.”

“Oh, I think Ryan is coming with Jackson,” said Rhiannon as she shut the driver’s side door, “Rachel broke up with him before she left for New York.”

McKenna nodded, “Yeah, I heard. What a bitch. But that’s Rachel. I bet Ryan gets completely shit-faced tonight.”

“Ryan? Rachel?” I asked.

“Ryan Kidson. King of the Rut himself. Rachel Lawson, his queen. I fondly call her the Wrath of the Rut because she’s possibly the most horrible human being I’ve ever known. But she’s also completely beautiful, I will begrudgingly admit. She left to go to ‘modeling camp’ up in New York. Whatever,” explained McKenna.

“So she broke up with the king?” I said as I adjusted the strap of my tank top.

“She did,” continued McKenna, “She said she wanted to be free for the summer. That she would be meeting important people and she wanted to be free of any restraints. Which is just a nice way of saying she wants to blow an agent if she needs to, without feeling guilty.”

“Damn, McKenna,” Rhiannon shakes her head, “The hate is real.”

McKenna looked at Rhiannon, “Well. You know why. But that’s a whole other story. One not to be recited tonight! Because beer! And boys! Let’s do this, ladies.”

* * *

The first time I meet Kyle Joel he is throwing slabs of deer carcass over scary, open flames that seem to reach to the clouds over us. The heat can be felt from yards away.

“Hey, y’all!” he calls. He’s got a beer bottle in one hand and what looks like a pitch fork in the other, as he turns over meat. He is shirtless. That part, admittedly, is not so terrible a thing. I can see why McKenna might be a little intrigued.

“Hey, Kyle,” McKenna says but she doesn’t move toward him. The heat is too much. He glances at her and his eyes get huge.

“Damn, girl,” he says, “You are lookin’ fine as hell.”

Kyle Joel is not subtle.

McKenna is gorgeous though. She’s got her long blond hair half up and half down in that effortless way that only the prettiest girls seem to know the secret to achieving. She has a form-fitting blue tank top on with a push up bra underneath. Her jean skirt is short but not obscenely so. She has great legs. Tan with muscular calves, but not too muscular. Converse low tops with no socks on her (probably beautiful) feet to make it seem casual. McKenna is pretty much perfect. I suddenly understand the meaning behind the term wallflower. Next to McKenna, I am one.

“That’s sweet,” she croons, “But I think we’re going to go sit by the house. It’s a little heated over here.”

“Sure. Bode was able to score some brew. It’s over in the coolers near the back steps.”

“Thanks.”

We walk over to the back of the house just as a Jeep Wrangler pulls up.

“Jackson!” Rhiannon says. She says it in a way that makes me think that Jackson might be her Kyle Joel.

The driver, who I can only assume is Jackson, jumps out and when he spots us a huge smile appears on his face. Jackson is tall but stocky. He has kind eyes and a short, cropped hair cut.

“Hey, ladies,” he says, “Hi, Rhiannon. You look really nice.”

As the two of them make googly eyes at each other, another boy gets out of the Jeep.

And my heart stops. It stops and drops right to my Birkenstocks.

This boy moves in slow motion, like a bad romance movie that I can’t help but love. He has blond hair that hangs in his face. He immediately does this thing where he slightly turns his head to get it out of his eyes. I suspect they’re blue but I can’t really tell. It just seems that would go perfect. He’s also tall, even taller than Jackson, and he’s got broad, tan shoulders. He’s wearing a basketball jersey and basketball shorts, neither of which match. He’s curiously barefoot.

I feel like I’ve been shot in the gut. I realize I can’t make anyone aware of this feeling. So I try to be cool. Inside I am dying. Whoever he is, he’s the best looking boy I have ever seen in person.

“So Ryan did come,” McKenna says as she hands me something cold. It’s a beer. She has somehow obtained a bottle opener and pops off both our beer tops.

“Oh. That’s Ryan Kidson,” I try to sound nonchalant.

“Yep,” she looks at me looking at him. I am bad at hiding this feeling.

“Addie. Don’t even think about it. Don’t even consider it.”

I snap out of my trance and look at her, “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t. But why? He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

McKenna takes a sip, “It’s a bad idea, Addie. Just trust me.”

Ryan approaches us looking like someone just hit his dog. He doesn’t even take notice of us until McKenna says hello.

“Oh. Sorry, McKenna. How are you?” His voice is deep for a high school kid. He offers a kind of half smile.

“I’m ok. How are you holding up?” She reaches over to the cooler, hands him a beer and the bottle opener.

“You know. I’m ok. A little tired,” he suddenly notices me.

I know it’s cheesy but the first time our eyes meet I kind of understand why romance novels are the best-selling genre of books. I understand why people write love songs. I figure out the purpose of life is to find someone I can feel this way about and somehow convince them to feel the same way about me. I can’t explain it, I can only give you clichés. There are no words in existence to explain how I feel about Ryan Kidson noticing me.

And his eyes are definitely blue.

“Hi, I’m Ryan,” he says putting out his hand, “I don’t mean to be so rude.”

I somehow am able to convince my hand to reach out and shake his. His palm is slightly calloused and sweaty.

“I’m Addie.” I don’t even know how I was able to say it.

His eyes suddenly light up with recognition, “You’re Mrs. McCurtis’s granddaughter!”

I’m surprised. All of a sudden this boy (I want to call him a man. He isn’t built anything like a boy) pulls me over into an embrace. My heart is pounding.

“I am so sorry about your grandma,” he says into my hair, “She is truly the best. I just feel really bad about it.” He lets go of me as I try to catch my breath. A lot is happening.

“Ryan is affectionate when he’s drunk,” says McKenna.

Ryan laughs good-naturedly, “Sorry, Addie. My mom and I visit your grandma every week. I cut her grass and my mom brings her food and her mail. She told me last week you were coming. She was so happy. I think you’re her favorite person in the world. She talks about you so much. Sorry if that was forward to hug you like that.”

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” I say. I want him to do it again. Should I mention my granddaddy died five years ago?

McKenna senses it and says, “So let’s eat some deer meat. So we can drink more. I think we all need to drink tonight.”

* * *

Venison is actually pretty tasty. We eat it on hamburger rolls while we sit in plastic beach chairs in the front yard. The sky is full of stars and while it’s warm, it’s not uncomfortable. I’ve had three beers and my head feels good, like it’s filled with cotton. Ryan sits directly across from me. He’s had half a dozen beers and shows no signs of stopping.

To my left McKenna and Kyle share a beach lounge chair. He sits behind her and she lays between his legs, her head resting on his chest. She has a love drunk smile on. Kyle has put a shirt on. It has some NASCAR driver on it. He speaks loudly to the group but I can’t hear him. Or at least, I don’t care what he’s saying. I want to hear Ryan again.

To my right is Bode Hinton. Our chairs are close together (McKenna’s plotting) but we haven’t spoken much. Bode is small and wiry. He has a camo ball cap on with a fishing hook stuck in the brim. He has a squirrelly face and a nasally voice. All he likes to talk about is how he is so good at scoring alcohol.

Across from us next to Ryan are Rhiannon and Jackson. They sit side by side on a lounge chair with paper plates balanced on their knees. They are speaking softly and I can’t hear what they’re saying. I feel like I’m witnessing something special, seeing them together. I’ve known Rhiannon only a couple hours but I know I want to know her the rest of my life. But that could be the beer talking. It seems to make immediate intimacy ok.

* * *

Rhiannon doesn’t drink so she takes us home around midnight. Before we leave Kyle’s I have one more conversation with Ryan.

“So, Addie, I actually think I’m coming over to your place tomorrow to cut the grass. Will you be around?” He asks as we dump our empty bottles in a black trash bag hanging off the doorknob of the back door.

“Yeah. For sure. I mean, I definitely should be.” I’m very bad at talking tonight.

“Cool. So I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gives me a side hug. I don’t know what to do with my arm so I just kind of let it squish between us. I am the most awkward idiot on the planet.

McKenna makes out with Kyle for a couple minutes before we leave. It’s awkward to stand and wait for someone to be done kissing. Rhiannon finally says, “Your mom needs us home like twenty minutes ago, McKenna!”

We pile into the Big Rhoda, put the windows down and the radio up. McKenna crawls into the back with me through the front even though it’s a four door. She is the drunkest of the two of us.

“Addie McCurtis, I am so glad you’re here!” she wraps her arms around me. We both smell like cheap beer and gamey meat.

“I’m glad to be here! It was good to get out.”

“Right? Although, I know you like Ryan and you can’t. But you can like Bode? What about Bode?”

“Bode is not for me,” I say, “He wouldn’t be for me even if I hadn’t seen Ryan.”

“I told you she wouldn’t like Bode!” Rhiannon says from the front, “No one ever likes poor Bode.”

McKenna cackles, “I know. I always try. He wants a girlfriend so bad. But Addie is way out of his league.”

I am surprised at this, “I am? I have never considered myself to be out of anyone’s league.”

McKenna lays across my lap, “Addie, you are a beautiful creature. None of these Rut guys are even in your universe. You are exquisite.”

We both laugh, “You are really wasted,” I reply and McKenna just nods, “I am. But didn’t you ever hear? Alcohol is a truth serum. So you know I speak the truth.”

* * *

When we get home McKenna is almost passed out so Rhiannon and I quietly carry her to the back porch.

“Are her parents waiting up for her?” I whisper.

Rhiannon shakes her head, “When she’s with me they know she’s ok. So they usually go to bed. But just in case we always say we’re having a sleepover on the porch. As long as we’re home around midnight, they don’t mind. The Holts are good people.”

We quietly open the screen door. Two folding cots lay out on the porch with sheets and pillows.

“See,” said Rhiannon, “Mrs. Holt did that. Sorry she didn’t have a third. She said she will get one for next time.”

“That’s ok,” I reply,” I should be home. Make sure everything is ok.”

Rhiannon pulls a sheet over McKenna, “I’ll walk you home.”

“But then who will walk you back?” I ask.

Rhiannon laughs quietly, “I’m not the one who drank five beers.”

“Touche.”

We tread through the woods. The moon lights our way.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Rhiannon says as we enter my yard, “McKenna has had a tough time this year. It’s nice to have another friend to lean on.”

“What happened?”

“I’ll let her tell you one of these days. It’s a lot and it’s her story to tell.”

I nod, “Ok. Well, thanks for driving us. You’re pretty good.”

“I’ve been doing it since I was thirteen. My sister taught me but then she got pregnant and moved away so now I am the main designated one.”

We stand quietly for a moment.

“My mom drinks a lot,” I confess, “More than she should. Especially now that my grandma is sick. I have a feeling I am going to spend a lot of my summer taking care of her. And it sucks.”

“I know. And when I say ‘I know’, I mean it. I know so much how you feel.”

It was probably the beer left in my system but at that moment I hugged her. It just felt like the right thing.

“I better head back,” she says as I pull away, “I have a feeling McKenna is going to have a pukey night. She drank beer and some of Kyle’s weird moonshine.”

And with that she is back in the woods and I am alone.

* * *

Before I walk in the house I notice that the LeBaron is gone. A note is left on the front door:

She’s been sleeping since 7 so I went out for a quick bit. Don’t wait up.

I tear it off the door and walk in. The house sits silent. I can hear box fans whirling in the living room and go in to turn them off. I’m angry that my mother would leave Grandma alone in the middle of the night. I would never have left the house had I known Aunt Shayla wouldn’t be here. My guess is that Mom convinced her to leave so she could sneak out. It was hard to remember who the teenager in this house was.

I walked up to Grandma’s room. Her door sits slightly ajar. She lays on her side facing the French doors that open out onto the second story porch. I am relieved to see her chest rising and falling and to hear the sound of a faint snore. The basin next to her bed for when she gets sick is empty. I walk softly back out and close the door enough to leave just a crack so I can hear her from my room.

It’s late but I am wide awake. There is so much that happened tonight, so much to think about. Ryan Kidson. This feeling I have, I had never thought it was an actual thing. You read about it, you see it in movies. I chalked it up to marketing and romantic idealism. It was a false emotion used to sell things. But I couldn’t deny it. I was infatuated. Nothing else could fit in my head but the thought of him. Even my Grandma being sick had left me for a little while, something I thought would be impossible. I felt a little guilty about this.

Why was McKenna so against me liking him? I knew it wasn’t a jealousy thing. For one thing, she seemed pretty smitten with Kyle Joel. And for another thing, there were probably like five people in the entire world for McKenna to be jealous of. She was the dream girl. So what could it be? It was something I would ask her about later. That night I would eventually drift asleep to the thought of him embracing me. I could still feel his hard shoulder against my head. His hands on my back, taking me in. Accepting me, whomever I might turn out to be.

7

The next morning I woke up to arguing going on outside.

I rushed downstairs forgetting I was only in a t-shirt and underwear. Grandma sat propped up on the couch looking out the front window.

“Good morning, angel,” she said, sipping out of a mug I sent her for her birthday five years ago.

“Who is that yelling?”

Grandma nodded towards the window and I saw Aunt Shayla and Mom jumping around animatedly. Aunt Shayla was pointing to the front of Mom’s car. As she became more animated I could see what the fuss was about. The front of the LeBaron was completely crunched. Rage rises in me.

“Mom wrecked our car?” I said.

“It looks like it,” sighed Grandma. “Shayla found her this morning passed out in the front seat with the engine still running.”

Wow.

“You know, before you get into all that,” Grandma said pointing her chin towards the door, “You might want to put some shorts on.”

“Good point,” I said. “Are you ok? Do you need me to make you anything?”

“I’m just fine, angel. I’ve got my tea and a bagel is already sittin’ on my stomach. I am fine as wine.”

I smile and lean down to kiss her papery cheek, “You’ve got that right. I’m going to get dressed.”

“Might want to take a shower too. You smell like Kyle Joel’s house.” Grandma grins.

The night’s memories come flooding back to me. I must have looked dazed for a moment.

“Was it that fun? You’ve got a silly smile.”

“It was a lot of fun. But I wish I had stayed here. I’m mad Mom left you.”

Grandma waved her hand at me, “I was asleep, angel. Nothin’ you could do but watch me snore. I’m glad you got out. That Kyle Joel is a mess. Did you meet any other friends?”

“I did,” I said, “Let me grab some shorts and I will tell you more about it.”

I glanced outside and Mom was sitting in the driver’s seat with the door open. Aunt Shayla was waddling back to the porch. The argument was in a cease fire for the moment.

In my room I pulled on a pair of Umbros and headed back down just as Aunt Shayla swung the screen door open.

“That girl,” she said, “Is going to kill someone. Or herself. I’m not going to watch history repeat itself-”

“Shayla.” My grandma’s voice was sharp. She jerked her chin towards the stairs I was standing on and Shayla turned.

“What history?” I asked. Shayla’s eyes seemed caught in something for a moment but the look quickly disappeared.

“I meant I am not going to watch someone hurt themselves driving drunk. Which is what your momma did last night. Too many deaths on the news about stuff like that.” Shayla huffed and puffed her way over to the recliner.

I look outside at my mother. She sits slumped in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette. Her hair is all over the place.

I walk outside. The heat smacks me and I immediately wish I could tie my hair up. I saunter barefoot to the car.

“And how did this happen?” I ask. Mom has one leg up on the dash and another on the ground. It’s not a ladylike pose. But that’s my mother. She’s no lady at all.

“How do you think? I must have run into something. I didn’t realize it was that bad. I was pulling out of the parking lot and thought I was in reverse. I drove home fine. So it can’t be that bad. Just looks it.”

“Mom, there’s fluid leaking all over the driveway,” I step back to avoid it, “You really banged this up. And Aunt Shayla found you in the car?”

My mother says nothing. She exhales smoke and rolls her eyes.

“You’re supposed to be helping Grandma,” I say through gritted teeth, “You’re also supposed to be a mother. My mother. And as usual, you’re acting like this is all just happening to you. Grandma doesn’t need this and I don’t need this.”

“Who do you think you are?” She is indignant. “I’m the adult. You are the child. If I want to leave and have a drink and get my mind off things, I can. I’m allowed. I made sure she was okay. I couldn’t stay in that house.” My mother slurs everything she is saying. She is still drunk and I am disgusted.

“You’re only an adult chronologically,” I say walking away. She hadn’t heard me. As usual, my mother could only hear herself.

* * *

Aunt Shayla left to go to the store and Mom eventually came in. She didn’t bother to apologize to any of us or even talk to Grandma. She stumbled straight to her room. I heard the shower running for a few minutes and then nothing.

“I seriously hate her,” I said as I sunk into the couch next to her, “She’s the worst human being ever. Who goes out and gets drunk while their mother lays at home with cancer? And does it so unapologetically, like she is completely entitled to do it.”

Grandma holds my hand, “Your mother is in pain. All pain is tolerated in different ways. Try to remember that.”

I shrug. Grandma has always cut Mom every break. Even after all these years I don’t think I have ever heard my grandma say anything bad about her. Not since our conversation in the bath tub a decade ago or the one I had overheard later that night. Otherwise, my Grandma said nothing. It both annoyed and mystified me.

We sit in silence for a moment. I know she will speak first and will say the perfect thing to get me in a better mood.

“Angel, you have to tell me about last night!” she suddenly says and as I predicted, it pulls me back into the memory of Ryan.

“Oh, Grandma. It was really fun. It just felt like the normal kind of night a girl is supposed to have. I like McKenna and Rhiannon so much.”

“Ah you met Rhiannon Lowell,” Grandma sat up as she said this, “Now that’s a good girl with a tough past. The Lowells are a bit infamous around here.”

“Yeah? Has Rhiannon been in trouble?” I ask this and really can’t imagine it being true. Not the Rhiannon I met.

“Oh no,” she says leaning to pick up her mug, “Never Rhiannon. But her siblings, yes. She has five of them. Maybe more, but I only can think of five. Her mother is a bit of a mess. She’s been to jail a couple of times for shoplifting and credit card fraud. Her dad left a few years back when the youngest was born. He comes back around when he needs money and attention. Rhiannon is in the middle, age wise. They live over on Pritchett. Out in the trailer park.” She takes a long sip of her tea, “She’s a good girl with a lousy start. But Rhiannon will rise above it. She’s just that girl. The girl you root for.”

I remembered what Rhiannon told me about her dad. How he was drunk a lot. I thought about my mother passed out in the front of the car. I wondered if Rhiannon resented him. It wasn’t something you brought up. It wasn’t even something I would want anyone to be able to relate to but knowing someone did, was a relief. I would never have to worry about Rhiannon looking down on me like the girls in Texas had. It was good to know Rhiannon existed.

“Well, I also met someone named Jackson. I think Rhiannon likes him. I didn’t talk to him much but he seemed nice.”

Grandma nodded, “Jackson Cosgrove. He’s from the same area as her. He lives with his grandma, Elise. She’s in my mission circle. Jackson plays basketball at Rutledgeville High School. I don’t know much about his parents, he’s always lived with Elise as far back as I can remember. But he’s a good boy, never any trouble. Shy. Elise has done well with that one.”

“Well there was someone that came with him.” My heart quickened just thinking of him, “Ryan Kidson? He said he knows you.”

Grandma nodded, “Oh, yes. I know Ryan and his mother, Charlene. His daddy works up at the tobacco plant. Ryan is a wonderful boy. Kind of the catch of the town, I guess. Star basketball player. Richmond is looking at him. I know he wants to stay close to home, be near his momma. That boy loves his momma.”

“He says he cuts your grass,” I said casually, “That’s very nice of him.”

“Oh yes, well. Ryan is a nice boy. Even with the small town glory that would turn most boys his age into jackasses, he has stayed sweet. And despite having a jackass for a father.”

My grandma so rarely speaks ill of anyone that I am shocked by this admission, “You’re not a fan of his dad, I’m guessing. Why?”

Grandma shakes her head, “I’m no gossip, angel. That’s between them. But Ryan is lucky to have Charlene. She comes by and brings me some very delicious casseroles. Her green bean one is my favorite. She puts bacon in it.”

“Sounds pretty good.” I admit. “He hugged me when he found out I am your granddaughter.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t such an unpleasant thing to happen to you,” she winks at me.

“Ha! I have definitely been in worse situations.”

“See? I have my perks. Being my angel gets you hugs from cute boys.”

“That perk sits about in the middle of a million of them,” I say leaning over to grab her now empty mug, “I’ll get you more.”

Grandma waves her hand, “No, I think I’m done. I’m feeling mighty tired. Think you can help me to the bed? I think I’m gonna nap.”

I lift her up by her incredibly bony elbow and we slowly walk to her room. Even with all her weight against me she is so light. It startles me that she is disappearing so fast. I push this thought out of my head. That is not something I can think about for long. All I can think for now is how grateful I am to have her and to be here at all.

8

Before Grandma falls asleep she tells me there is a twenty dollar bill on the kitchen table.

“Give that to Ryan when he comes to cut the grass today,” she says, her eyes closing, “He never accepts it but offer it anyway. And then put it in his backpack when he’s not looking. He usually keeps it on the steps while he works.”

I assure her that I will do this as I close her door. Ryan Kidson will be here today I think.

Holy hell, what will I wear?

Normally I would roll my eyes at my own self but I can’t help but think about it. How many chances does one get to make an impression? The old cliché says just once. Today he will be sober and awake and I need to make sure he remembers me. He lives in a town where McKenna Holt is apparently not the prettiest girl, something I can’t even fathom. I need to look good without looking like I tried too hard to look good. This would be difficult. I had hair that frizzed the second you left the confines of modern air conditioning and legs that could have used the help of months of thigh-mastering. I was not someone that beauty came easy for. I always felt like I could be improved upon. Having a mother that constantly confirmed this notion had not helped me.

I throw open my suitcase. Jean shorts, chinos, overalls, a couple of long skirts, two jean skirts, a dress I wore to a dance last year, sweaters, t-shirts, tank tops, a couple of flowery blouses; these are the things I have to choose from. Everything looks wrong. I wish I had time to run to a mall or a TJ Maxx or something.

I turn to the vanity behind me. The image of me and my massive hair is not the best of greetings. My hair is tawny. It’s incredibly thick and naturally wavy and coarse. It’s always been the bane of my existence. When I lived in Texas all the girls had long, fine, straight hair. Their smooth tresses always looked the same no matter what the weather was. My hair is a natural forecaster. You can look at it and immediately know how much humidity is in the air. If it looks decent, it’s only for a moment. It’s unruly and unstable. It’s a metaphor of my life and I have never loved it. Older women appreciate it but girls my age look at it with morbid fascination. Like how one looks at the bearded lady at the fair.

I collapse onto the bed. It was useless. I was not the girl who gets Ryan Kidson. Maybe that’s why McKenna said what she said.

I’d never had a boyfriend. I’d had moments with boys, but nothing like an actual relationship. In eighth grade I kissed a boy named Mario at a party my friend Marisol had in her parents’ garage. We were playing Truth or Dare and he was dared to kiss me. He scooted over to me on his knees and leaned into me without even touching my shoulders. He had thin lips and I was nonplussed. Later on he asked if he could have my phone number and I gave him the number to my mom’s work. Looking back, that wasn’t very nice but I thought not giving him any number seemed more mean.

I think about Rachel Lawson. The girl who dumped Ryan Kidson for modeling camp in New York. Just that sentence alone intimidated me. Who goes to modeling camp? I pictured a leggy blonde with an Alicia Silverstone face. Probably the kind of girl who can wear midriff tops and has those enviable dimples on her lower back that all the models in YM magazine seem to have. Her teeth are probably constantly Crest white and she looks sexy in flannel pajama pants. They probably ride low on her narrow hips. What am I even doing thinking about a guy who gets dumped by models? And how does one even apply to modeling camp? Do you send them school photos? They’re able to tell you have modeling potential from the shoulders up?

Too many thoughts. I needed to let go of this Ryan Kidson fantasy. I didn’t even know him. And I had enough to think about this summer. I didn’t need to be chasing a fairy tale.

I look over at the mountain of clothes on my floor. Even so. It wouldn’t hurt to look nice.

* * *

Ryan Kidson shows up right after lunch. Grandma is still sleeping and I haven’t heard a peep from Mom’s room. He pulls up in a blue Ford truck, music blaring from tinny speakers. He has on a Braves cap, grass stained khaki shorts, a white t-shirt, and Nikes without socks, a Jansport backpack over one shoulder. I watch him nervously from my bedroom window.

I glanced in the mirror for the fiftieth time. I had decided on jean shorts and a t-shirt that rode up my midriff a tasteful amount and pulled at my boobs just enough to show him I had something going on in that location. I painted my toenails pink. My mop of hair was pulled up into a messy bun because really? That whole situation was hopeless in this heat. So was makeup.

I paced the floor in front of the window watching him work. He pulled a push mower out of the back of his truck. Bless his heart, a push mower? My grandma had almost an acre of grass. He walked over to the front steps and threw his backpack. It hit the steps with a heavy thump. Reconsidering, he then retraced his steps and grabbed it again. Water. He had forgotten to chug water and pour it on his head. My heart raced. I felt like I was in a Coke commercial watching the boy next door pour water all of over himself.

I walked downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed the pitcher of lemonade I had made about an hour ago. (So cliché) It had been chilling in the fridge. I grabbed a couple of plastic cups and try to look casual and nonchalant as I walk out the screen door onto the porch.

What I see almost makes me drop the entire thing.

Ryan Kidson had taken his shirt off. He was yanking on the lawnmower’s pull cord and all I could focus on are the tanned muscles of his naked shoulders and back. His forearms flex in the sun and he has a determined look on his face. As the lawn mower finally turns over and the deafening sound pierces the air around us, he smiled, content. I wanted to jump into his arms. I wanted him to swing me around and then only stop to kiss me passionately in the shadow of his Ford truck. It was the scene out of a movie playing in my head which I finally had to shake myself out of when I realized he had noticed me and was speaking.

“Addie!” he says jogging over, “You made lemonade? For me?”

“Well, I made it for everyone,” I say, “But I thought you might want some. I can leave it on the steps. I don’t want to distract you.”

“I don’t mind being distracted. Especially by a pretty girl and a pitcher of lemonade.” Pretty girl? I can feel myself blushing. Compliments are hard for me.

“Oh. Well. Good.” I am an idiot. I sound like a Neanderthal.

He pours the drink and immediately gulps it down and pours another, “This is great. Just what I needed. It’s hotter than hell today.”

I just nod watching his Adam’s apple move as he gulps. I want to kiss him in that spot.

“How’s your grandma doing” he asks looking me right in the eyes, concern marking his gaze. God, I love this boy.

“She’s ok. She’s sleeping right now. Oh,” I say grabbing the twenty out of my back pocket, “She wanted me to give you this.”

Ryan refuses to touch it, shaking his head, “No way. She knows I won’t take it. Keep it.”

“She said you always turn it down,” I say putting it back in my back pocket. “You know, this is really nice of you. Thanks for helping her.”

We lock eyes for a moment and he smiles, “It’s no big deal at all. Your grandma has always been so good to my mom and me. It’s the very least I can do. I should probably get started though.”

“Oh, of course,” I say taking his cup, “If you need anything else, just holler.” Holler? Ugh.

“Hey,” he says calling back to me from the still running mower, “Don’t even think about sneaking that into my backpack! I know all her tricks!”

I laugh stiffly and nod, “Okay. You got me there.”

We both stand awkwardly until I finally turn my body around and walk back to the porch. All I want to do is watch him but I know that is completely stalker-ish and inappropriate. So I do what any normal teenage girl in lust would and watch him from the confines of my bedroom window.

* * *

It takes him about an hour to finish up. He mows in diagonal lines while listening to a CD Walkman that’s tucked into one of the pockets of his shorts. I wonder what he’s listening to and what he’s thinking of. He doesn’t seem so brokenhearted. Maybe Rachel Lawson is an anchor he is glad to be rid of. An albatross, something he is relieved to not have to be attached to anymore. Without knowing a single thing about any of these people it’s the delusional thought that enables my fantasy of being his new girlfriend.

I am a lunatic. Even I know this.

As I watch him drink the last of his water and start putting the lawn mower away I hear the worst possible sound in the world.

My mother. She is awake and she has spotted him.

“Why, hello there,” I hear her croon. I cannot run down the stairs fast enough.

My mother stands on the steps wearing only a very short, silk robe. That she has not tied tight enough. Ryan stands there staring at her both confused and what I sense is a little uncomfortable.

“Mom,” I say sharply from behind her. She turns, startled.

“Yes?” she says in her fake sweet voice that I have heard her use on men my entire life. I hate that voice.

“Shouldn’t you get dressed? Normal people are dressed by the afternoon.”

Ryan stands frozen, not sure what to do.

“I was just introducing myself,” she says to me. She turns back to Ryan, “Aren’t you a handsome thing?”

Ryan chuckles nervously, “Uh. Thank you, ma’am.”

“Mom,” I say again walking towards him, blocking her way from going down the steps, “This is Ryan. He’s friends with grandma. He cuts her grass for free and he’s been here for a while and he needs to go now.”

Mom looks at me as if she is seeing me for the first time. It’s a strange sensation. I have seen her look at her competing co-workers with this same look. She is staring me down as if I am blocking her from something she wants.

“Oh. I didn’t realize you knew him,” she finally says, stepping back, “Nice to meet you Ryan. Any friend of my momma’s is a friend of mine. And my daughter’s apparently. She seems a little territorial over you.”

I want to kill her. It takes everything in me not to lunge at her.

“Oh,” Ryan must want to be anywhere else right now, “Well, we’re new friends. You’ve got a great mom and a great daughter from what I can tell. So. Nice to meet you too.”

Oh God this is all so awful. This is not how I wanted this day to go. My mother ruins everything.

Thankfully she turns to walk back inside but not without doing her stupid sashay where she wiggles her ass while she walks. God, she is pathetic.

I stare at the closed screen door. I can’t even stand to turn around and face him. I am hoping to hear his truck pull away and to probably never hear from him again.

I almost jump out of my skin when I feel his hands on my shoulder.

“Addie,” he says and I look at him, tears stinging my eyes.

“I am really sorry. My mother she’s-”

“Embarrassing?” he finishes which makes it even worse.

I nod and begin to cry. I slump down onto the freshly cut grass and he sits down next to me.

“Sorry. I really get it,” he says looking over at the live oaks in our side yard, “My dad is the most embarrassing parent in the world. He’s been kicked out of at least a dozen of my basketball games. When I was a kid he tried to be my T-ball coach but he was fired by the other parents for being too intense.”

I look at him, surprised by such a confession.

“My mother,” I explain, “has to have attention at all times. She has to feel like she is the prettiest woman in the room, the most desired, the most attended to. When we lived in Texas she got caught making out with the principal at a PTA sponsored canned food drive. None of the other kids were allowed to invite me over to play. She would wear obscenely short skirts to any of my school functions so I would try my best to not tell her about them. You don’t know how many times I have pretended to be sick in order to avoid being seen with her. She thinks I suffer from chronic migraines. I don’t.”

He smiles and nods, “Yeah. I’ve definitely been there. I told my dad I would quit playing if he came to any more of my games. He just makes a complete ass of himself. He yells at the coaches, cusses at the refs, cusses at me. He sucks the joy and fun out of everyone around him.”

We both sit quietly with our realizations and admissions.

“My grandma,” I say folding my legs to my chest, “says your mom is just the best. She really speaks so highly of her. You’re so lucky in that way. I would love a mom that people spoke of so highly.”

Ryan smiles, “Well, if it’s any consolation, everyone in this town loves the shit out of your grandma. She’s like the patron saint of the Rut. And now she has her angel. For a long time I didn’t even know your name because all she ever talks about is her ‘angel’. It’s pretty adorable.”

I look at him, “She’s called me that forever. She tells me God sent me to help her heal from the pain of her past. That’s such a Grandma thing to say but I like it. It’s nice to have a safe person who always has your best interest at heart.”

We sit quietly for a few moments. As I think about how much I don’t want this conversation to end Ryan bursts my bubble.

“Well, I probably really should go,” he says standing up. He puts his hand out and pulls me up with him. I am momentarily against his (still bare) chest and it makes me dizzy for a second. This is all too much.

“Thanks for listening to me. Sorry this conversation was so depressing,” I say.

“Are you kidding? It was great to have a real talk with someone. Guys don’t talk about this stuff. It’s just not what we do. So thank you, Addie McCurtis.” He leans in and embraces me.

“Also, your lemonade is fantastic. Make some more for this weekend. I’ll be back to cut the backyard,” he says pulling his t-shirt over his head, “Oh! And if you want, you, McKenna, and Rhiannon are invited to join me, Jackson, and Kyle tomorrow. We’re heading to Smith Mountain Lake. Ever been?”

I shake my head, “Not since I was really young. My granddaddy used to go on fishing trips there.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure Kyle told McKenna about it but in case he forgot, I wanted to let y’all know. We’ll probably leave around ten and be back before dinner. See how your grandma’s doing and just show up at Kyle’s place tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Sure,” I say as I burst into a billion pieces on the inside, “I’ll see how things are. Thanks for the invite.”

He gives me one last smile as he jumps in his truck and drives into the hot Virginia afternoon.

9

Grandma wakes up soon after Ryan leaves. My mother has locked herself in her room again. I ask Grandma if she’s hungry since she slept through lunch.

“Maybe a little,” she says, “I wouldn’t mind a tomato sandwich.”

“Great decision on your part because I wouldn’t mind one myself. Want to sit in the kitchen or the living room?”

“The living room. I’ve gotta watch One Life to Live. Vicki’s gone crazy again.”

I laugh, “Okay. So one tomato sandwich? Any chips?”

“Just the sandwich. Make sure to use Duke’s ok?”

“Does any other mayonnaise even exist?”

“Not in my world, it doesn’t. Thank you, angel.”

Tomato sandwiches are one of my favorite things about Rutledgeville. There isn’t a better grown tomato in all the world. My grandma and I both like the slices cut thick. We put it on white bread with tons of Duke’s mayo. The bread turns pink from the juices and if you’ve made it right, should almost fall apart as you eat it. It’s absolute heaven.

As we sit on the couch eating our sandwiches my mother makes an appearance from the bedroom. She is wearing a tight tank top and cut off jean shorts with flip flops. The entire vibe of the room changes.

“What are y’all up to?” she says collapsing into the recliner across from us. She swings her legs over the arms of it like she’s a teenager. Like she’s my age.

“Eating a late lunch,” Grandma says, “Naomi, your bosoms are falling out of that top.”

My mother puts her hands to her cleavage, “They are not. This isn’t 1963, Momma. We dress for the weather. It’s almost a hundred degrees outside when you factor in this damn humidity.”

“Would you be ok with Addie wearing that?” she asks.

I chew silently.

“Well, yes. I actually would.” My mother swings her legs to the floor, “And hello to you too, by the way. Such a nice way to greet me.”

“Naomi,” Grandma says in a voice I rarely hear, “Stop acting like a child. You know good and well we’re aware of last night’s incident. You’ve wrecked your car and put yourself in danger. It’s a horrible example but more than that, it’s risky behavior. We don’t need that right now. There’s enough on our plates.”

“I see,” my mother stands, “I’m not allowed to actually have one night of relief from any of this. Did you ever think about how this affects me? My mother is dying of cancer. I needed to have a moment. I’m never allowed to have a moment when I’m here!”

“Did you ever think about what it’s like to be the one with cancer?” my Grandma says.

There is no answer my mom can give to that.

* * *

McKenna shows up while Grandma watches her stories.

“Hey, girl!” she calls from the screen door. I open it up and she bounds in.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” I ask as we walk up to my room.

“Not so bad actually,” she says as we both sit on my bed Indian style, “Rhiannon came back from walking you home and made me drink two huge glasses of water before going back to sleep.”

“Smart girl,” I roll over onto my stomach, “I like her a lot.”

“I knew you would. She’s great. She liked you too.”

“So how did things go with Kyle?” I ask as she lays back on my bed, stretching.

“Ok. We didn’t really have any time alone. I keep waiting for him to ask me out or to at least ask to see me without anyone else around. It hasn’t happened yet. What did you think of everyone?”

“They were nice.”

McKenna sits up and rolls her eyes, “Tell me what you really think.”

I laugh, “Well, I didn’t dislike anyone. Are Rhiannon and Jackson a thing?”

McKenna nods, “For sure. I mean, nothing official. But they’re definitely in deep like with one another. Jackson lives in her neighborhood. They just get each other. Rhiannon has been in love with him since third grade when Luke Westbrook called her white trash and Jackson punched him in the stomach.”

“Nice,” I say, “Kyle seemed like a good guy. He was concerned about us liking his food.”

“He likes to be the host. He really is a good guy. Rhiannon just thinks all guys except for Jackson are douche nozzles.”

“Even Ryan?”

McKenna gives me the side eye and doesn’t say anything.

“He came by today. To cut the grass,” I continue, “And he’s fantastic, McKenna.”

“I know. He’s Ryan Kidson.” She says this as if it’s a definition. Something I should just know, like the color of grass.

“I’m guessing you don’t think I’m good enough. I’m not a model or a pageant queen or whatever the hell his ex-girlfriend is. But I can’t stop thinking about him!” I say all of this and immediately bury my head in my pillow.

“You really think I think that?” McKenna says, standing. She yanks the pillow from my face, “I would never think that. I don’t subscribe to that. Ryan Kidson is not too good for you. He’s just a guy. But you don’t know Rachel Lawson.” She tosses the pillow back at me and sits back down, “It’s not you that’s the problem. Rachel Lawson is the problem. She’s the reason you can’t like Ryan.”

“But I thought they were broken up?” I sit up.

“They are. And they have been before. It’s always brief and it’s always Rachel’s decision. This time is different but the result will be the same. Rachel will come back from her ridiculous modeling camp and get back together with Ryan just in time for school. Ryan is on varsity this year. He’s the king of our class, if not of the school, and Rachel wouldn’t dare be with anyone else. And Ryan can’t resist her ‘charms’” McKenna uses her fingers as quotation marks as she says this, “And ultimately if you decide to like him and he decides to like you back? Your heart will be broken at the end of the summer. Because Rachel Lawson always wins.”

“You make her sound like a sorceress. Or like Helen of Troy. Is she really that amazing?”

McKenna shakes her head, “No. Well, for Rutledgeville, yes. She’s the biggest fish in a small pond full of mediocre fish. She’s the prize of the town, in a way. And what’s worse, she knows it. My only hope is that once high school is over she gets smacked with a huge dose of reality when she goes off to some large state school where there are a thousand girls just like her and no one cares who the hell she is.”

“You really hate her.”

“She is not my favorite person,” McKenna admits, “She’s a turbo bitch.”

“Turbo bitch. I like that.”

“It’s a McKenna Holt original.”

“So how about if I just flirt shamelessly with Ryan all summer? Keeping in mind that it’s a pointless endeavor? I could even make out with him, just so Rachel Lawson has to be tortured with the idea that what was once hers belonged to someone else for a little while?” I smile, “Nothing makes a girl angrier than knowing she isn’t being pined away for.”

McKenna laughs, “That actually isn’t a terrible idea. As long as you’re realistic about it. You have to always remind yourself that he isn’t yours to keep. I always feel it’s best to keep expectations low in general. Unfortunately.”

“No kidding.” It’s something I have lived my life by for a long time.

“Also, you have so much going on with your grandma. Ryan could be a good distraction. Maybe you’re on to something. It really would kill Rachel to know he actually paid attention to a girl who wasn’t her. I do love that idea.”

“Great. Now I just have to somehow convince him of it,” I stood up on my bed, “He invited us to the lake tomorrow!”

McKenna stands up next to me, “Yeah! I was coming over here to tell you Kyle had invited us!”

We jump up and down excitedly. We are complete dorks.

10

That night, as I am washing the dishes, I hear a loud thud from the living room.

“Addie,” Aunt Shayla says in a voice that scares me, “Call 911 now. Now!”

Grandma had fallen. The recliner had broken most of her fall, but she still hit her head pretty hard. She was out of it for a few minutes while we waited for the ambulance. I held her head in my lap, just staring at the People magazine on the coffee table. Princess Diana waved to me from the cover.

Three young men come in briskly, all business. She was starting to stir as they put her on the stretcher, one of them taking her blood pressure. I was relieved to see her eyes fluttering open but broken hearted to see how scared they look.

“What happened?” she says.

“You fell, honey,” Aunt Shayla says, “We’re just going to take you to the hospital to make sure everything is ok.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital, I’m fine.”

“Well, you’re goin’ anyway.” My Aunt Shayla is not to be messed with.

I don’t know where my place is in this. I also have no idea where my mother is.

My Aunt Shayla and I follow the ambulance in her van. A Patsy Cline song calls out to me from the radio. That song will always be the soundtrack to that night.

When we get there, things seem calmer. Grandma is sitting up and clearly annoyed that she has been forced to leave her home.

“I’m tired, Shayla. I just want to be home. I don’t feel queasy, I don’t feel pain in my head. I just had a little dizzy spell and fell. Happens to all kinds. This is a damn waste of time!”

Aunt Shayla just ignores her.

Grandma looks at me, “Angel, you shouldn’t be here. You should be out with your friends or home sleeping.”

“You’re silly. I have nowhere else to be. My place is with you.” I kiss her hand.

As we wait for the doctor I pull Aunt Shayla aside.

“Where is Mom?” I whisper.

“Honey, I have no idea. She leaves every night. Treats your grandma’s house like a motel. Acts like your grandma has the flu and not a damn terminal disease. I don’t know what to tell you, but I don’t want to say anything nasty about your momma so we should probably just stop talking about her before I do.”

“It’s okay. I’m probably thinking worse things than you could ever say.”

My aunt looks at me, surprised, “That breaks my heart, baby.”

A man in blue scrubs walks into the room, his sneakers squeaking.

“Hello. I’m Dr. Harrison. Good evening, Mrs. McCurtis,” he puts out his hand to shake Grandma’s. “I heard you had a bit of a fall tonight. We want to make sure you didn’t get a concussion or any other sort of head injury. You seem to be alert, which is a great sign.”

“Yeah. I don’t need to be here. I am not concussed.”

Dr. Harrison gives a pained smile and glances at us. “Of course. We just need to be extra vigilant with your condition. Do you know why you fell? What is the last thing you remember?”

Grandma shakes her head. “I had stood up to look for the remote and next thing I knew I had all these people lookin’ at me like I was Lazarus risin’ from the dead! I don’t know what happened.”

“Well, that must have been scary. We’re going to do a CT scan on your head, make sure you’re ok. We’ll be admitting you for the night so you can rest, it might take a while to run the tests we need, ok? I know that’s not your idea of a fun night but we will try to get you through it as quick as we can.”

“No worries, Grandma. I’ll spend the night with you.” I say sitting in the stiff chair next to her bed.

Dr. Harrison gives the pained smile again, “I’m afraid you have to be at least eighteen to stay the night. She’ll be ok, we’ll take great care of her.”

Aunt Shayla walks out into the hall with Dr. Harrison. I close the door behind them.

“Well, this is just completely ridiculous! People fall all the damn time! I don’t need to be takin’ up a bed that a real sick person could use.” Grandma folds her twiggy arms, defiant.

“Grandma,” I say, “You are a sick person. That’s why they want to make extra sure you’re ok. I know you hate it but I need you to be well so just play along, ok? You’ll be back home tomorrow. We can have tomato sandwiches again. I’ll even watch Days of Our Lives with you.”

Grandma smiles and takes my hand, “You mean One Life to Live. I know, angel. I shouldn’t be such a sourpuss. I just hate hospitals. I have spent way too much time in them. I’d just rather be with my angel.”

Aunt Shayla comes back into the room, “Alright. Doc says they’re going to get the CT done as soon as they can, then if the results are good you’re going to rest while they run some blood tests. By the time it’s all done it’ll be morning and you can come on home. They won’t let you fall asleep until they know you don’t have a concussion. Addie, I called Mrs. Holt, she’s gonna come pick you up,” Aunt Shayla says to me in a lower voice, “Someone sent word your momma is at The Side Pocket. So at least we know she’s fine.”

I kiss Grandma goodbye and promise to see her tomorrow and then I pull Aunt Shayla into the hall.

“What is The Side Pocket?” I ask.

“It’s a local bar. Not in the best area. Near Pritchett. She took your grandma’s truck since hers is busted. Told us she was goin’ to get some groceries but never came back.”

I am seething but I try my best not to show it, “Well. Isn’t that just great.”

Aunt Shayla gives me a look of sympathy, “I know, girl. I wish there was more I could say. Your mom is a mystery to us all.”

I hug her, glad she will be staying with Grandma. I walk past rooms with beeping machines and nurses walking around briskly in tennis shoes into the waiting area. It’s empty for now, something I am grateful for. My head hurts and I don’t feel like making small talk with anyone. I wish I had brought my Walkman with me, just to get out of my head for a little while.

Where the hell is my mother? What woman goes to a bar every night while their mother sits at home, dying? Why hasn’t she spoken to me since we arrived? All the secrets in my life swirl in my head. I am tired of never knowing what is truly going on. My grandma should be sitting here with her daughter. My mother should be comforting her own daughter, letting her know she is in control, that she can take care of this. All I want to know is that somehow we will be okay, that in the end there is a purpose and a reason to all of this. But I have none of that. I never have. My life revolves around the whims of a person who is undone by an invisible something.

* * *

I decide that sleep is not what I need tonight.

Mrs. Holt picks me up with McKenna in tow.

“Thanks, Mrs. Holt,” I say as I move my way into the backseat of her Camry.

“Of course, sweetheart. How’s Grandma?” Mrs. Holt turns to me, concern marking her beautiful features. McKenna gets her looks from her mother. The car is filled with her fragrance. It’s vanilla.

“She’s ok. They’re doing a CT scan to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion. I can’t stay with her because of my age.” I say this as she turns around to put the car in reverse.

“Well, honey. I am just so sorry about all of this. I’ll be praying all is ok. She is never far from my mind.”

As we pull out of the hospital parking lot I feel McKenna’s hand on top of mine. She squeezes me and I look at her with a half-smile.

“Is Rhiannon coming over tonight by any chance?” I whisper to her as Mrs. Holt turns up the radio to listen to the same country station I listened to in Aunt Shayla’s car.

“Yeah, she has to watch her little brothers until her mom gets home but she was going to come by later to spend the night. Why?”

“Well. Is she driving?”

11

Rhiannon and Big Rhoda crept up the Holts’ driveway around midnight.

“Sorry, I’m so late.” She apologized as she quietly shut her door. “My mom got home way later than she told me. Shocker, I know.”

McKenna and I are sitting on the porch, ready to put my plan into action.

“Do you know where a place called The Side Pocket is?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s usually where I find one of my parents on their bad nights. Why?” Rhiannon looks back and forth between McKenna and I.

“My grandma had a really bad fall and my mom isn’t around so I want to go find her and embarrass the shit out of her.”

Rhiannon without missing a beat turns around towards the car and waves us over, “Well, here we go, then. This will probably turn out really bad, you’re aware of that?”

“That’s my hope.”

* * *

The Side Pocket was almost twenty minutes from mine and McKenna’s houses. We had to go up a stretch of deserted highway. The windows were down and the cicadas sang to us as we drove. Rhiannon didn’t bother putting any music on. McKenna sat in the front passenger seat, one foot out the open window.

“So what are we going to do once we’re there?” McKenna asked. “Will they even let us in?”

“They’ll let us in. We’ll just say we’re there to get her mom.” Rhiannon glanced back at me in the rearview mirror. “I’ve done it before for both my parents. If she’s drunk enough they’ll be happy to oblige.”

I look between the driver and passenger’s seats to the road ahead of us. Big Rhoda’s headlights show me nothing but potholed pavement and darkness. My mind races with what I’m going to do once we’re at the bar.

* * *

When I was thirteen years old and we had first moved to Las Vegas, I somehow got into Mom’s work one night. We lived in a weekly apartment across the street from the strip club she worked. I was bored and didn’t feel like doing my pre-algebra homework. So I walked across the street just to see how far I could get. In the back, a door was cracked open, and one of the dancers was having a cigarette, the billowy smoke floating through the crisp desert air.

“Honey, you can’t come in.” She was probably thirty or so. It was hard for me to tell how old women were once they weren’t teenagers anymore. Anyone from twenty to thirty looked about the same to me. This woman wore a G-string and shiny patent leather boots. Curiously, she had a Van Halen t-shirt on. It was a cold night.

“My mom works here,” I said. “I just want to see her.”

“Yeah?” I had her attention. “Who’s your mom?”

“Naomi McCurtis.”

The woman looked me up and down, “I don’t see Naomi in you. I didn’t know she had a daughter. You look like your daddy?”

I shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t know.”

“Oh.” The woman seemed to get it. “Well, Naomi is on stage now. Want to wait here until she’s done? You have to leave after that. Kids aren’t really supposed to be in the dressing room. Or anywhere here, really.” She threw the cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with the toe of her boot.

“Okay, yes. Thanks.” I don’t know why I stayed. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, that I didn’t want to see where my mom worked and what she did. I knew once it was seen it couldn’t be unseen. But somehow I couldn’t stop once I had started.

Strangely, the dressing room reminded me of the locker room at school. There were benches and lockers. But the women here weren’t like the middle school girls that were always glancing around as they tried to get dressed under a towel. These women walked around topless, their voices loud and crass. They were all Amazonian in their sky high heels and all gave me side-eyes but no one said anything.

I could hear the thump of bass in the room next to me. It was a familiar song I’d heard on the radio sometimes, before my mom would change the station.

“I hate this song.” She would say. I never thought much of it.

I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to me. The woman who had been smoking was gone and the others were on the other side of the lockers, laughing over something.

I walked over to the door that led to the adjoining room. As soon as I walked out I could smell beer. The music became much louder and I realized there was a small crowd of people gathered in the corner. Once my eyes adjusted to the dark and all the neon I could make out a stage and a figure dancing on it.

It was my mother.

I wasn’t stupid, I knew what she did. But to see it up close was another thing entirely. She wore nothing save for a thong and those same teetering heels the women in the locker room were in. She was bent over and a long silver pole from floor to ceiling was wedged between her legs. My stomach fell. The music thumped, thumped, thumped. Oily men put dollar bills on the stage and every now and then she would get down on her knees and grab them. Her face was smiling but I knew my mother and her eyes weren’t smiling at all. She looked like a robot, going through the motions.

I immediately turned around and went back to the dressing room. The smoking woman saw me and I could hear her calling after me as I went straight out the back door from which I came and back to the place we pretended was our home.

* * *

“Here it is.” Rhiannon slowly turned Big Rhoda into a gravel parking lot full of trucks and Camaros. “You sure you want to do this? This isn’t Applebees, Addie. Doing this is risky.”

“Not doing this is even more risky. My mother has to know I can and will find her. She has to know I’m serious.” I unbuckled my seatbelt, “I’m also totally fine with doing this on my own. I don’t want to make y’all uncomfortable.”

“Psssh!” McKenna swings open the door, “I’m down. We can add this to the adventure log.”

“You have an adventure log?” Rhiannon and I both said at the same time.

“No. I just kind of made that up two seconds ago. But if this goes well, I’m starting one! And this will make a hell of a first entry.”

The parking lot crunched underneath our Converse as we walked towards the door of The Side Pocket. Music blared from speakers outside. The laughter and noise of people echoed into the night. Now that I was going this, I was definitely apprehensive. But then I thought of Grandma in her room the other night, alone. Mom was supposed to be helping out. Why else were we here? My anger gave me a trajectory and I started walking faster.

“Addie, hold up!” McKenna and Rhiannon trailed behind me as I marched forward to the front door of The Side Pocket.

As it swung open under my push, the music became deafening. People were pressed up against the bar and waitresses in short denim skirts danced around the intoxicated patrons with their trays full of shot glasses and beer bottles. On one side there were three or four pool tables, with the sound of cue balls smacking against one another ringing in my ears. Immediately I heard a high pitched cackle coming from the far corner away from the tables.

That was definitely my mother.

“LAST CALL IN ONE HOUR!” a bartender shouted as he grabbed four bottles out of a cooler. Just as he looked up I turned away and started walking purposefully toward the cackle.

“That’s Mike, he knows me. I’ll tell him what’s going on.” Rhiannon went the other way to negotiate our entrance. McKenna followed at a clip behind me.

The place was incredibly crowded. I pushed my way through clammy, sweaty people, some of them staring at McKenna and me with looks I recognized from the men at the gas station a few days ago. I didn’t feel so well.

My mother sat on a stool, her hair piled up on her head, her cheeks rosy from her drunkenness. Two men flanked her, both laughing heartily as she leaned over. The whole world could see right down her shirt. Part of me wanted to walk away. She was so embarrassing and I didn’t want McKenna and Rhiannon to see her like this. I was mortified. How could she sit there laughing and happy with the current life situation we were in?

Before I could make a decision, our eyes met. At first she squinted, like maybe I looked like her daughter but wasn’t. Then came the slow, bombed realization that I was definitely her daughter and I was definitely in a bar. She was as naked to me now as she had been that night long ago at the strip club.

“Addison Grace McCurtis, what the hell are you doing here? Girl, I will jerk a knot in your damn tail!” She stumbled as she stood. One of the slick men next to her caught her arm.

“I’ve come to collect you.” My voice was cold. “Your mother is in the hospital.”

Her eyes locked with mine. I could see fear in them, which was a relief. Maybe there was a heart in there somewhere.

“Is she okay?” she asked, sitting back down but missing the stool and landing on her ass.

“She’s doing better than you are. At least when she fell it wasn’t because she was a tanked-up nightmare. God, you’re pathetic.”

McKenna stood silently next to me. My mother stood up and brought her face inches from my own.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Huh? Coming in here and embarrassing me like this. I’m the damn grown up, Addison. You’re a child who needs to learn some respect. Don’t you ever talk to me like that.”

“You need to learn to have some respect before you earn it. Especially for yourself.”

Smack! Her hand hit me hard and quick. My cheek burned and my right eye watered. Suddenly the bar was silent. Rhiannon was next to me with Mike the bartender.

“Naomi, you need to get on home.” Mike said. “It’s late. The girls will take you.”

“My daughter can’t even drive and I don’t know who these bitches are.” She slurred as she sat back down on the stool. “I’m hanging out with my friends. Getting some things off my mind.”

“I am not asking you, Naomi. I’m telling you. Go home with your daughter.” Mike stepped forward, “I don’t want to have to force you. Just go. Your family needs you.”

As she continued to bicker back and forth with the bartender I walked through a crowd of people while holding my cheek, all of them staring at me. I refused to make eye contact with any of them. I just kept moving towards the door as quickly as I could. Whether my mother followed or not was no longer something I gave a damn about.

* * *

Once we were all back in Big Rhoda, my mother immediately passed out in the back next to McKenna. Her unattractive snores echoed around us.

“Jesus.” I turned the radio on and Red Hot Chili Peppers improved the ambiance immediately as Rhiannon pulled out onto the highway.

“So that sucked.” Rhiannon said. There was nothing more true.

“Did either of your parents ever do that to you? Hit you in front of a crowd of people?”

Rhiannon nodded, “Oh yeah. CPS had to come and we went and lived with my aunt for a while, which sadly, wasn’t much of an improvement. It only happened a couple times but it’s one of those things that just has to happen once for you to realize how much you never want to end up like that in your whole life.”

I nodded. “McKenna, you still want to be my friend?” I called to the back.

McKenna poked her head between our seats. “Sorry, did you ask me a question? I’ve got a drunk woman snoring like a yeti back here. Do yetis snore? Is that even a good metaphor?”

Rhiannon snort laughed but my face turned red.

“Sorry, Addie. Just trying to make you smile. Too soon, huh?” McKenna patted my head. “And of course I still want to be your friend. If this is the worst thing in your closet of crazy then you’re doing just fine. Besides, you haven’t met Rhiannon’s family yet.”

“Hey! I resent that very true statement!” Rhiannon pretended to be indignant and then started to laugh. “Yeah, Addie, my family makes yours look like the Cosbys.”

“You mean the Huxtables,” McKenna retorted, “It’s the Cosby Show but their last name is Huxtable.”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes, “And at least you’re not a know-it-all dork like this one right here. Huxtable, Cosby, whatever!”

12

Once we got home it took us about five minutes to get my mother to wake up enough just to get her out of the car. She immediately collapsed on the ground muttering, “Just leave me here.”

I was all ready to do that, but Rhiannon said we at least needed to get her inside. It took all three of us to pick up the dead, drunk, weight of my mother and finally get her to the couch in our living room.

As we stepped back onto my Grandma’s porch I unexpectedly burst into tears that turned into hyperventilating sobs. I squatted next to one of the porch columns and shook with grief. This was too much for me to handle. I was barely capable of handling Grandma’s prognosis, my mother being a fuck up on top of it all was too much. Why couldn’t she be like Mrs. Holt? Or any other mother of every other friend I ever had? I felt so completely alone. The only person who truly cared about my welfare above her own was lying in a hospital bed with cancer and a possible concussion.

I must have been babbling out loud because suddenly Rhiannon and McKenna were on the porch floor next to me, their hands on my back.

“You’re not alone, Addie.” McKenna said. “We’re here, girl. We might not know what to say or do but we will always show up.”

I looked up at McKenna. Rhiannon was nodding next to me.

“You don’t want to flee? I mean, this is all so ugly. When things get like this I’ve been shown it’s always just best to leave.” I shook with despondency, “That’s what she always does. She can’t handle things when they’re hard so we always just run away. And I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much.”

“We’re Rut girls,” Rhiannon said, standing. “We don’t leave one another. Let’s go to McKenna’s and sleep this shitty night off.”

* * *

Aunt Shayla came by the house the next morning just as I was walking back from McKenna’s. Sleep had been fitful and I was still exhausted. As we both walked into the house we could see my mother hadn’t moved from the position we had left her in on the couch. Her snores assured us she was still alive.

“What’s that all about?” Aunt Shayla asked, “You found her? I don’t see the truck here.”

“Yeah we had to leave it there. She was way too hammered to drive. I told the bartender we’d go pick it up today.” I sat down on the stairs, “Aunt Shayla, she’s so messed up. I don’t know why she even came here. She isn’t helping at all.”

My aunt shifted her hefty body and sat in Grandma’s recliner across from my mom. She didn’t say anything for a little while. I wondered if she wished we had stayed in Las Vegas. Sometimes I wondered if my great-aunt even liked me. She was a difficult person to read.

“Well, she’s definitely not helping. I didn’t expect her to be Florence Nightingale,” Aunt Shayla stared daggers of disapproval at my mother, “but, damn. We have enough to focus on. But that’s your momma. She’s gotta have attention and drama in her life in order to feel alive.” Aunt Shayla slowly rocked the recliner. “But that’s the way it’s always been.”

This is the thing about mothers. Even when you know they’re embarrassing and even when you don’t like them, it’s difficult to hear other people talk bad about them. I knew Aunt Shayla was angry, and rightfully so. But I wished she wouldn’t bash her in front of me. It made no sense, I know. I had said much worse things about her in the last twelve hours. But I could do that. I was her daughter. I had earned the right.

* * *

Needless to say, there would be no trip to the lake with Ryan Kidson that day. I hadn’t even thought about it until the phone rang, right before we were leaving to go see Grandma at the hospital.

“Addie.” Aunt Shayla held out the phone to me, her face confused. “It’s for you. Some boy. Hurry up, okay?”

I took the phone from her, confused myself.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Hey. It’s Ryan. I heard about your grandma, I’m so sorry.”

My heart swelled.

“Wow, word travels fast,” I said, “Thanks for calling.”

“Well, these mission circle ladies don’t mess around with this stuff. I’m just sorry we’re going to miss out on the lake today. Maybe another time?”

“Oh, wow. I had forgotten in the midst of the craziness. Yes, I really would love to go. Maybe once things are better with Grandma.”

“Of course. I have some lawns to work on today that I’m behind on. So it worked out okay.”

“Wait, you’re not going at all?” I was surprised.

“Of course not. The lake isn’t fun without pretty girls. I’ll let you go now. Talk to you later, Addie.”

When I hung up the smile on my face could have lit up all of Las Vegas Boulevard.

* * *

My grandma sat up in her hospital bed, sipping on a Styrofoam cup of iced water with a bendy straw. She looked so incredibly miniscule under a mountain of hospital sheets. Her hospital gown was falling off her shoulders and her collar bones were protruding. I hadn’t seen them my entire life. It reminded me of how this was slowly taking her from us, a pound at a time.

As soon as I walked in she smiled, put down her cup, and extended her bird arms.

“Angel!” she called to me. I ran over and embraced her, lightly. I felt like I would shatter her if I held her too tightly.

Aunt Shayla and my mother stood behind me. She immediately collapsed into the only available chair in the room. She had sunglasses on and her hair was a mess. But at least we had gotten her here. She had tried to say she was too hungover and didn’t want Grandma to see her like this. My Aunt Shayla told her to “get the hell over yourself” and get her ass in the car.

“So how are you feeling?” I said, holding her hand. She scooted over a bit.

“Get in this bed with me and let me snuggle you.”

Being that she was so tiny, there was plenty of room but I wasn’t sure if it was okay. She had so many IVs hooked to her.

She must have sensed my apprehension, “Its okay, angel face. I promise, it will help me.”

I slid in next to her. The sheets were cool. I laid my head on her frail shoulder. It was like sharing a bed with a child.

“Has Dr. Harrison talked to you yet?” Aunt Shayla leaned against the chair Mom was lounging in.

“Mom, why don’t you let Aunt Shayla sit down?” I asked.

“Its fine, honey.” Aunt Shayla said in that tone of voice that means the opposite of Its fine. My mother didn’t get the hint. She didn’t move.

Grandma shifted next to me, her bony hand now entwined in mine.

“Well, he popped in to see if y’all were here yet about an hour ago. I told him it was okay, to just tell me what was going on but he insisted on everyone being present. I think he thinks I’m senile instead of just full of cancer.”

Aunt Shayla and I exchanged glances. Dr. Harrison’s insistence on us being here didn’t sound like promising news.

* * *

We must have sat there at least an hour, waiting for something to happen. My stomach was in knots. Mom had fallen asleep in her chair and Aunt Shayla had pulled in a chair from one of the nurse’s stations and sat on the other side of Grandma’s bed. Every time I heard squeaking shoes approaching our door, my heart would jump in my chest. For an hour each pair of sneakers had just been a nurse walking by or other people visiting relatives. But finally the squeaking stopped outside of her room and knuckles rapped against the door.

“It’s me.” Dr. Harrison walked in, with two nurses behind him. His smile was pinched yet again and his eyes told me he was not looking forward to this visit. I pictured him hiding from us in his office, dreading what he was to unleash on us. I just had a terrible premonition about what he was about to say.

“I’m glad you’re all here,” he said, sitting on the very edge of Grandma’s bed. He did that thing men do, where they place their ankle on the knee of the opposite leg. His khakis rode up a bit and I saw he had Sperry topsiders on with argyle socks. I stared at them as he spoke, hoping if I didn’t see his mouth moving, it wouldn’t be true.

“You do not have a concussion, thankfully. But the ultrasounds we performed in addition to the scan have shown us a change. The cancer has progressed,” he said. He paused for a moment, “It’s metastasized to your rib, back, and brain. Unfortunately, this isn’t uncommon at this stage.” He touched Grandma’s blanketed leg. “I am truly sorry, Mrs. McCurtis.”

“What happens now?” Mom was sitting up, her sunglasses off, and her face as sober as I had ever seen it. “What does this mean?”

“It means this is how it ends.” Grandma sat up next to me, her voice having the authority that it did years ago, “It means it’s time to soak up every last second of the time left. Doctor, can I just please spend that time at home? Starting now? I just want to die where I’m happy.”

Tears were trickling down my face. I used the back of Grandma’s hand I was holding to wipe them. I couldn’t bear to let go of her right now.

13

When my Grandaddy died, years ago, my grandma changed for a while. She started going to church more. She joined her mission circle. She also bought a plot of land at the Rutledgeville Cemetery next to him. But she never took me to go visit his grave.

“It’s too soon.” She would say, “I’m not ready.”

Aunt Shayla said one of the florists in town put fresh flowers on the grave for him from Grandma each week. They had both loved daisies. On holidays she would leave something themed but the daisies still came, no matter what.

The summer I was fourteen, we went to Myrtle Beach for the first time without him. It was just Grandma and I spending the days sleeping until ten and laying at the beach reading until dinner time. Right before the week ended my Grandma asked me something that was completely out of character for her.

“Do you believe in God, angel?” She was lying on a cushioned beach chair under an umbrella. We had splurged and rented them for the week. It was the best decision of our lives at the moment. We had a beach bag full of paperbacks sitting between us.

“Wow. Well, that’s a pretty heavy question for Myrtle Beach, Grandma.” I put my sunglasses on top of my head and looked over at her to see if she was just being silly. But her face was incredibly serious.

“Well, it’s been heavy on my mind, so it’s appropriate.” She looked out at the ocean. The tide was coming in and people were moving their towels and chairs closer to the hotel.

“I don’t think about it much. If I had to answer I would probably tentatively say maybe.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

“Why tentative?” My grandma was staring at me in a way she hadn’t before.

“Grandma, where is this coming from? I just finished reading a romance novel. I’m on the beach, with you, on a vacation. How am I supposed to answer this?” A breeze blew by and sand hit our legs.

“I was just thinking about how we’ve never talked about it. And when you lose someone you start thinking about what happens after we aren’t here anymore. And you hope that whatever happens, the people you love most in the world are there to go through the rest of existence with you.” She had a cry in her voice so I reached out for her hand.

“But if you think about that too much, you’ll forget about what’s happening right now. We don’t know for sure what happens when it’s over, Grandma. All I can prove is my existence to you right now. It’s all I can focus on. I’m fourteen, Grandma.”

She laughed, “I know. So it’s hard for you to get my crazy. When you turn about forty it starts to hit you that this doesn’t last forever. I’ve lost people I love so much and it’s hard for me sometimes…” There sounded like there was more to say but she couldn’t figure out how to word it.

I sat up and took both her hands this time, “How about this? Let’s go have that seafood buffet. Every time I have scallops it becomes clear to me there really must be a God if that kind of fried yumminess can exist. What do you think?” I just wanted to move on from this seriously complicated topic.

Grandma touched my salty crusted beach hair. She smiled, “Okay, angel. That sounds good to me.”

14

“Momma, there has to be more we can do. You can’t give up yet!” My mother stood now, looking back and forth between Grandma and Dr. Harrison.

I was blown away that Grandma could quit this easily. For the first time since this trip, Mom and I were on the same side.

“Grandma, I know this isn’t great news but there are always options. Right, Dr. Harrison?” I looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Treatment is complicated at this stage,” he delicately said. “She’s been through radiation and chemotherapy more than once. With this type of cancer if it doesn’t show improvement after the first stage of treatment there is little chance of it working beyond that. The fact that it’s progressed shows us the most aggressive options we have been using are not working. So at this point it becomes a matter of whether our goal is to prolong life at the expense of quality or do we make Mrs. McCurtis as comfortable as possible and manage the pain that is ahead. It’s a very difficult decision but I know how she feels about it and I feel like all of you should talk about this together to see what you think is best. I am here if you have questions. I will say there is nothing we haven’t tried. Mrs. McCurtis is certainly no quitter. But she’s also pragmatic, something I admire very much about her. Your mother and grandmother has fought this every step of the way. She’s a very strong woman.” Dr. Harrison patted my grandma’s leg as he spoke. It was clear he cared for her very much.

“Without treatment how long?” It was the first time Aunt Shayla had spoken since Dr. Harrison had arrived. Her face was pale and her bottom lip quivered.

Dr. Harrison looked at us and back at Grandma. “It’s not easy to say but approximately three to six months.”

My heart started beating very fast. Mom was sobbing in her chair, her head buried in her hands, her sunglasses now on the floor. Aunt Shayla wiped tears from her cheeks. All of us were a mess but Grandma laid in that hospital bed and didn’t let a single cry come out. I felt her body actually relax next to me, as if she had been holding her breath and could now exhale.

“Can I go home today, doc?” Grandma asked.

“Of course. I’ll have one of the nurses do your release paperwork. But I want to see you again in the next couple days. If this is something you want to do we need to set up in-home hospice care. I want to make sure you’re completely comfortable.”

Hospice. We had read a novel in school last year about young kids with cancer who lived at a hospice together, just waiting around to die. The lump in my throat was hard to swallow.

“Thanks, Dr. Harrison.” Grandma was cool as an Eskimo next to me. My mother was having a nervous breakdown and Aunt Shayla had left the room.

“Grandma?” I said, trying to control the shaking in my voice.

“Yes, sweet angel?” My grandma practically chirped to me.

“Why are you so happy? You seem… Like you’re okay with it.”

“Because I am.” Grandma took my hand, “I am certainly not happy. But I am okay with it. Because I have no choice. I can’t control what is happening to my body. I can only control how I spend the rest of my time living in it. And instead of worrying about whether a treatment is working or taking loads of pills, I can focus on spending time with you. And telling you every single thing I want to tell you before I go. There’s nothing happy about this. But in a way this news is very freeing for me. I can finally let go.”

15

“Is my truck still at the bar?” Grandma asked as I pushed her in her wheelchair to the elevator that would take us downstairs to Aunt Shayla’s van.

“Who told you?” I asked.

“Well, I heard Shayla tell you last night that your momma went there. And I knew if she went, there was no way Mike was letting her leave with my truck. Not in her condition.” My mouth must have been wide open.

“You know the bartender?” I asked, “Nothing gets by you!”

“Oh, yes. Mike used to date your momma.”

I about fell over. “He did? When?” My mother’s life before me was one of my favorite subjects. I knew so little about it, so any morsel I received was completely delicious. And this might be the biggest one yet.

Grandma nodded, “They were high school sweethearts. They went to prom together, dated all of her junior year and part of her senior year of high school. Mike is a very good man. He’s owned The Side Pocket since after he graduated college. He’s done very well with it. It attracts a rowdy crowd but he keeps it under control. And his momma and daddy are just as sweet as they can be.”

I pushed her onto the now open elevator. Mom was still in Grandma’s hospital room talking to Dr. Harrison.

“Why did they break up?” I asked as the doors closed.

Grandma was quiet for a moment. “Naomi would have to tell you that. But after your momma left I always stayed in contact with Mike. He was always very good to her.”

The elevator doors opened and I rolled her through the lobby and out the automatic doors to Aunt Shayla’s waiting van.

“Shayla, we should probably stop by the bar and pick up my truck. I’d like to ride with Naomi alone in it, if that’s okay.” Grandma slowly stood from her wheelchair. I held her elbow. I felt like a light breeze could knock her over at any moment.

“I don’t know,” Aunt Shayla was clearly skeptical, “I’m not sure she’s even all the way sober from last night. And you don’t need the stress of an argument.”

“I’m not asking. I’m telling you. I need to talk to her.” Grandma looked at her younger sister and in that moment it was clear who had always been boss, “She’s my girl, Shayla. She just found out some tough news. Just trust me. We’ll be okay.”

* * *

Everyone was pretty quiet as we drove towards the other side of town to procure Grandma’s 1993 Chevy pickup. My mother sat in the third row seat, her head against the window. I sat in the front passenger seat next to Aunt Shayla. The country station was on again and some new singer named Shania Twain was singing about how no one needs to know right now. It was catchy. I tried to focus on that.

I couldn’t believe I had met my mother’s high school boyfriend and hadn’t even known it. I thought back to what I remembered about him. He was handsome in that older guy way. (Older to someone my age that is.) He had dark hair that was graying a little at the temples. He was clean shaven and despite the pool hall atmosphere, he had been dressed very professionally in khakis and a collared shirt. I could see him being a catch back in his younger days. And he had belonged to my momma for a while. And then something happened and nothing was ever the same. I wondered if he had known about me. I would never have been able to tell either way.

The truck was still in the parking lot. It was an island with nothing else around it. I guessed in a few hours it would be a different story but for now the Chevy sat alone.

“See y’all at the house,” Grandma said, “We might take the long way home. Angel, if you want to go visit with your friends, you should. You’ve been through enough today.”

I shook my head, “There’s no way I’m leaving you tonight.”

“No, she’s right,” Aunt Shayla said, “You should get out. I’ll stay over with her and your momma. It’ll all be okay.”

I knew this meant discussions would be had. About what was next. And honestly, I really didn’t know if I wanted to be present for that. The thought of talking with my Grandma on how she wanted to spend her remaining days on earth was heavy for me. For once, I would accept the pardon.

* * *

And when we got home, a huge surprise was waiting.

Ryan Kidson was sitting on our front porch next to what looked like an aluminum foil covered casserole dish. As we pulled up he smiled and waved. My heart revved up to at least 400 beats per minute at the sight of him.

“Oh I bet Charlene brought over dinner. That woman is an angel straight from heaven.” Aunt Shayla shifted the van into park as I swung open the door. I could barely compose myself.

I know it seems silly, being enamored with someone I barely knew, like I was. I was never someone that connected to the love-at-first-sight fairy tales that were plastered all over the media I consumed. I had seen in person how fickle romantic relationships could be. I was a cynic even at my young age. But there was just something about Ryan Kidson. I don’t know if it was the emotional turmoil brewing at home or my own hormones.

“Hey.” His smile was sheepish and sweet. His hair looked lighter and his face was ruddy and tan. I could tell it had been a day spent in the sun. He had that enviable trait in guys where they clearly have the characteristics of a burgeoning man, but the charm of someone who is still very much a boy. I wanted to touch him so badly that it killed me.

This had to be hormones.

“Hey. What are you up to?” I asked. Aunt Shayla waddled over to the porch and picked up the corner of the foil to see what food he’d brought.

“Oh! Chicken pot pie! My favorite!” she squealed.

“Yep,” he said over his shoulder, his eyes still on me, “Momma didn’t put carrots in it. She knows you don’t like them.”

“Well, your momma is just about the sweetest thing in all of Virginia. Addie, you hungry? It’s still warm.” Aunt Shayla looked at me, one eyebrow up. She wasn’t dumb. Could she feel the energy from across the yard?

“No thanks, Auntie. I’m not really hungry.” And I wasn’t. How could I be?

“Okay. Well, I’ll let y’all talk.” She picked up the dish and went through the front door. I heard the screen door smack shut behind her.

“Have you been waiting here long?” I asked. He shifted in his stance and cocked his head. He was thinking over something, I wasn’t sure what.

“Not too long. You know, you look really pretty today.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah. Real pretty with this crazy hair of mine. And Umbros and a t-shirt. I mean, come on.”

He chuckled, “You are. Do you always take compliments this well?”

“Yeah. I kind of suck at accepting them. Sorry. Thanks. It just really seems silly you would say that. You know. Considering.”

We both sat down on the porch steps.

“Considering what?” he asked, legitimately looking confused.

“You know. You date models. McKenna told me you just broke up with your girlfriend. She must be gorgeous.”

His mouth formed a line. His brow furrowed and I instantly wished I could reach out and grab my words back. Didn’t YM magazine always say it was a bad idea to bring up ex-girlfriends?

“So you know about Rachel?” he asked flatly.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m an idiot. The thing is, I’m socially inept. Completely. Especially with guys. I mean, listen to me! I sound like Woody Allen, blabbering on and on, spilling out my neurosis. Anyway, let’s rewind to the part where you told me I was pretty. Because I need to start over. Is that even possible?”

Now he was laughing again, “You are the only girl- actually person- that’s ever made a Woody Allen reference in this town. And you definitely aren’t an idiot. I’m sorry if I seemed put off for a moment. It’s not you. It’s her. I’m still a little wounded from that whole thing. But,” he emphasized, “She is definitely not a model. I mean, yet anyway. She’s not Cindy Crawford or anything. But she is definitely my ex and she’s definitely a topic I would love to avoid.”

I nodded, “Fair enough. I am a thousand percent behind never talking about her again. I won’t even say her name.”

He smiled, “Good. So to answer your initial question; I have only been sitting here about thirty minutes and yes, I would love to hang out with you tonight.”

I laughed, “I don’t remember asking you to hang out with me tonight.”

“No? I could have sworn you did. I mean… I did bring you a casserole dish. I heard that was the new thing to do to get a girl’s attention.”

“I must have missed that article. But it was impressive. I mean, sans carrots! You really did make the effort. So maybe I can clear my schedule for tonight, make an exception to my rule.”

“Rule?” He was lying on his side now, his head propped up by his incredibly muscular forearm, “Please, elaborate, Addie McCurtis.”

“Well, I usually require at least three days’ notice for scheduling of hang out sessions. With cancellation required within twenty four hours in order to give notice to someone on the waiting list.”

“Ah! So maybe tonight is my lucky night? Any last second cancellations?” He was grinning at me now. Was this flirting? Was this how it worked?

“You’re in luck. My schedule happens to be cleared tonight.”

“Good.” He said suddenly standing up. He held down his arm and pulled me up fast enough that I was against his chest for a moment. Our faces were closer than they had been since the day he came over to mow my lawn. He smelled amazing.

“I’m giving you a tour,” he said, “Follow me.”

I walked over to his truck but then stopped.

“Wait! Let me just run in and tell my aunt.”

“Of course,” he said, “I’ll be right here.”

* * *

Ryan Kidson’s car smelled like grass and boy sweat. The seats were leather that was cracked so that the yellow seat cushions stuck out a bit. He drove with one arm over the steering wheel and one elbow out the window. He was confident in the sexiest way. It wasn’t arrogant, it wasn’t boastful. Ryan was a boy clearly comfortable in his own skin. Which made me comfortable too.

“So how was your day?” he asked, “Grandma okay? No concussion?”

It was the first time I had thought of the day’s events since I had first seen him on our porch. What Dr. Harrison said came back to me and my stomach dropped. How shitty of me to have been distracted so easily. I immediately burst into tears.

“Hey. Addie. What’s wrong?” His voice was alarmed and he immediately pulled the truck over on the desolate road we were on and threw it into park. Before I knew it he had scooted over to my side of the truck and was holding me against him as I sobbed.

I couldn’t speak for a few moments. I just ugly cried into his shoulder without any concern for the sound of it or how completely soaked I was getting his t-shirt. I hadn’t felt like I could do this around my family. I wanted Grandma to stay strong and not worry about me. But my entire soul was crushed at the news we had gotten today. And as soon as he had asked about my day it had flooded into the front of my memory and I could barely take it.

I finally pulled away from him. He put my face in his hands and wiped away my tears with his thumbs. His face was serious and his eyes were locked on mine.

“Tell me everything. Or nothing. But I’m here, Addie. You need to talk about this? Let me be that guy.” The sincerity in his voice was beyond his years. In that moment Ryan Kidson was more than just a guy I was lusting after. He was a friend.

So I began. I told him about seeing Grandma in the hospital bed. About Dr. Harrison and all the things he said. About Grandma’s response. I even told him about the night before with my mother in the bar and meeting Mike. By the time I was done I had nothing left to give. I had spilled every emotion and feeling I had about my current situation. To a boy I barely knew.

He was quiet for a moment. He was looking at my forehead, thinking while he gently stroked my hair. It was the most intimate thing I had ever shared with a boy. It had nothing to do with kissing or sex. It had everything to do with showing him who I really was.

“This is fucking bullshit.” He finally said. Curiously, it was the perfect thing.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “It really is.”

“Your grandma is one of the best people in the world. I’m not exaggerating. She is seriously the most quality woman, someone everyone looks up to. She helps people, she’s kind to people. And she gets hit with this? I mean, what the fuck? It’s just bullshit.”

I nodded, wiping my tears with the heel of my palms, “Yep. Pretty much.”

He looked at me again and sighed, “I hate this for you, Addie. You know, it sounds like you don’t have a ton of help at home either. That makes me angry. It’s not right. Your mom needs to get her shit together. I hope that doesn’t offend you.” He looked at me, “I know its one thing for you to say it but another for someone else to. That’s how I get when people bash my dad.”

I shook my head, “No, it’s okay. I mean, you really get it. And you’re right. So you can maybe see why I just had a ridiculous emotional outburst.”

“I just can’t even tell you how sorry I am.” His face was solemn. We both pulled away from one another and looked out the windshield. Dusk was approaching and the summer sky had ribbons of purples and amber streaking through it.

“I’m going to take you to a spot of mine,” he said as he buckled his seatbelt, “It’s where I go when things are heavy at home and I need a place to just be by myself to go over things in my head. What do you say?” He reached his hand across the seat towards me.

I placed my hand in his, “Sounds good to me.”

He let go long enough to shift the truck into drive and then his hand came right back to mine.

* * *

We drove quietly to the sounds of AM sports radio echoing through Ryan’s static speakers. It was a baseball game, the Braves versus the Dodgers.

“Are you a Braves fan?” I asked.

“Huge.” He said, “We’re going to take it all again this year. I’m stoked. My dad and I might go down to Atlanta and try to catch a game this summer.”

I smiled, “That’s awesome.”

“Yeah. He and I seem to get along best when we’re both invested in an outcome. So it should be good. Do you like baseball?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know much about it. My mom dated a guy on a minor league team briefly when we lived in Texas. He was gone a lot.”

“Yeah, they play a shit ton of games these days. I was never great at playing but I’ve always loved keeping up with it. I used to have notebooks full of stats. I don’t know what I was doing that for but it was something I enjoyed.” He looked over me, a sheepish grin on his face, “Kind of dorky, huh?”

Kind of adorable I think.

The road we drove on was lined by enormous trees on both sides, their branches hanging over us like an embrace. Suddenly the tree line ended and the road cut through an enormous field where a large water tower loomed over.

“Soybeans.” Ryan said, “Kyle’s family owns this land and they’re growing soybeans right now.”

“So your special spot is in a field?” I asked. The road clearly ended soon.

“Ha! Nope. My special spot is at the top of that,” he said pointing to the water tower, “And that’s where we’re going. Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”

My stomach dropped. I was absolutely terrified of heights.

We parked at the end of the road where the fields met the woods. Ryan shut his door and ran around my side to open mine. As I went to step down he held out his hand to help me.

“Thanks,” I said. He smiled at me. Our hands lingered together for a moment and then he pulled me towards a beaten path that ran the length of the field next to the woods.

“It’s about half a mile this way,” he said, finally letting go of me as we hopped over a stray log on the path. I wanted him to reach out for me again but he was a boy on a mission and I was there to follow.

As we walked I could see the sun setting to the west of us. The sky had never looked so beautiful. I walked about ten feet behind Ryan. I couldn’t stop staring at his calves. They were well muscled and long. His shoulders were broad and in the cab of the truck I had felt small against him. Good Lord, this boy. How was I lucky enough to be following him to a secret place?

As we walked my anxiety started getting to me. I really was nervous about climbing what was probably a narrow ladder to the top of that tower. I knew from experience that things always look one hundred times higher once you were at the top. The tower grew closer to us and I felt nauseated. I didn’t want to ruin this moment with Ryan but I also didn’t want to die.

He kept glancing back at me with the sweetest smile on his face. It reminded me of a kid on Christmas morning, excited to wake up his parents to show them what Santa left him. I had to get the hell over my phobia. Ryan Kidson was worth it.

We finally reached it after what felt like forever. The woods spread out around it and there was a path that led up to the ladder that ascended to what might as well have been Mount Everest to me. I could see a catwalk that circled it. I wished in that moment I could just beam myself up there. The climbing part was what would be the worst part for me.

Ryan turned to me and my face must have given away my apprehension. He walked over and took both my hands in his.

“Are you scared?” he asked.

“Yes.” I couldn’t lie.

“It’s not as bad as you think. I was the same way the first time I came here. But there’s a trick to it. Want me to tell you?”

I nodded. My heart thumped as he brought his face closer to mine.

“You get on that ladder and you just keep looking up. You don’t look down, at all. While you’re climbing you focus on where you’re going and pretend that you’re only climbing up ten feet. Like a pool ladder. I’ll be right behind you so nothing can happen. If you fall, I fall.” He touched my hair, “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak for fear of throwing up.

The ladder was solid. Parts of it were slightly rusty but that ladder would have held me times a hundred. I put one foot on the first step and looked up. The top seemed a million miles away.

“Remember, I’m right behind you. Don’t look down. Stop if you need to. We’re in this together, Addie.”

I nodded and started the climb. I didn’t look down. I focused on my hand as it pulled me up each rung. I could hear him climbing behind me. Once we were halfway he quietly said, “You’re doing so awesome, Addie. We’re so close.”

I was tempted to look behind me because I wanted to see his face so badly. But I knew that might mess it all up so I kept climbing.

I’ve never been so relieved to reach something. I climbed onto the catwalk and looked at the giant metal of the water filled tower in front of me. I traced my hands across the crumbling lettering: RUTLEDGEVILLE: HOME OF THE RAIDERS.

Ryan was now next to me, his arm around my shoulder, “I’m so proud of you! You did it!”

I turned to him with a grin and we hugged. Over his shoulder I could see how high we were and immediately I became panicked.

“Yikes,” I said, grabbing him and scooting against the tower, “This is really high.”

“Yeah. I know. But try to focus on the beauty and know that you’re perfectly safe. Here, sit down, it’ll be easier. We can scoot all the way back. I won’t make you dangle your legs over the side today.” He gave me his charming grin and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“That day will never happen!” I said, “But wow.”

I could see the entire town from where we sat. In the far off distance I could see the top of Grandma’s house and The Holts. Beyond that, roads snaked through woods and fields. I could see numerous steeples and what looked like a football field and a track.

“Is that the high school?” I asked, pointing towards the large brick building next to the baseballs fields.

“Yep. Home of the Raiders,” he said, pointing to the lettering on the tower, “Raider rumble and all that.”

“Raider rumble?” I asked.

“It’s a cheer the cheerleaders do at games. I’ve become kind of a fan.” He raised his eyebrows and laughed.

I rolled my eyes, “I can’t imagine why.”

He threw his arm around me, “You’d make a cute Raider cheerleader.”

“Ha! That’ll be the day.” I leaned into him, “I left my pompoms in Nevada.”

“That’s a shame,” he said, “I think if I could see you cheering from the side I’d hit a hell of a lot more three pointers.”

I blushed. I didn’t know what to even say. Any other guy saying that would have had me throwing myself off the tower. But Ryan was so sincere. The way he said it made it seem like less of a line and more of a hope.

“Well, I can still cheer from the side and not have to wear a short pleated skirt.”

“Ah but what’s the fun in that?” he laughed, “I’m kidding. That would be just as great. Are you going to school here this fall?”

It was interesting he would ask that because I hadn’t really thought of that until just now. My mother’s plan never had a clear path. We were here on a day to day basis and with Grandma’s prognosis, I wasn’t sure what would happen next.

I shrugged, “I’m not sure, actually. I guess it’s something I’ll have to talk about with my mom and Grandma. Usually my mom tends to want to run from here as soon as she can, so I’m not really sure.”

He looked out across the horizon, his arm still around me. He didn’t say anything for a bit so I looked out too, at the setting sun on a gentle June evening, next to a boy I suspected I could fall hopelessly, and probably recklessly in love with.

16

After the sun set, we slowly climbed down the tower. He went first and I nervously followed. The descent was much easier than the ascension had been, and as we got to the bottom he grabbed my waist and helped me down.

“So what did you think?” he asked, taking my hand as we walked.

“It was very much worth it. Thank you.” I said, “I appreciate you showing me that.”

“Well, you’re the first girl that was brave enough to actually do it. You made me proud! And now that you’ve done it, it’s your spot too. Whenever things get hard at home, come here. It helps.”

We walked quietly as the sky became darker. Cicadas were singing and I thought about how they had become the soundtrack to my nights here. This time when we got to the errant log, Ryan helped me over it.

Now would be the part where I would have loved for him to kiss me next to the open door of his truck. And I felt like it was something that was possible. But when he opened my door he let go of my hand and said, “I should probably get you home.”

I nodded, slightly disappointed, “Yeah, I need to check and see if Grandma made it home okay.”

We drove again but this time he turned that same damn country station on. Someone named Toby Keith crooned about a blue moon.

“So what are you up to tomorrow?” he asked as we slowly drove up my Grandma’s long driveway.

“Nothing that I know of. If Grandma is okay I could maybe do something. You?”

“I was thinking of trying the lake again tomorrow. It’s supposed to be hot as balls. You could ask McKenna and Rhiannon? I can probably easily convince the guys.”

Gee, let me think on that one. My sarcasm rang in my head. I tried not to nod too enthusiastically when I said, “Yes. I think that would be great.”

He didn’t open my door this time but he did lean over and kiss me on my forehead, “It’s going to be okay, Addie.” He smiled. As I got out of the truck and he drove away I couldn’t help but wish I could believe him.

* * *

As soon as I walked in the door I wanted to be back at the water tower.

Mom was sobbing in the kitchen. Aunt Shayla was sitting in the recliner in the living room staring at the wall and I didn’t know where Grandma was.

Before I could even ask, Aunt Shayla said, “Upstairs, baby. She’s sleeping. It’s been a long day for her.”

“Sure.” I started to slowly walk away but Aunt Shayla stopped me.

“Your momma needs to have a talk with you.” Aunt Shayla’s face was serious, “Y’all need to go over some things.”

I looked into the kitchen. My mother had her head on the table and was crying a kind of cry that can only come from either a lot of pain or a lot of alcohol.

“Does it have to be now?” I asked, “I just really want to go upstairs and shower. And fall asleep. And avoid that woman in the kitchen.”

Aunt Shayla shook her head, “You can avoid her but you can’t avoid the consequences of it, Addison McCurtis. There’s too much repression between the two of you. And there’s a lot you need to know. Your momma owes you that.”

This day was the worst roller coaster I had ever been on. It started with finding out there was an expiration date on my favorite person on the planet, followed by the most romantic evening of my life, followed again by whatever my mother was going to confess to me.

All my life I had wanted answers to things until I became afraid of knowing anything about my mother. She had conditioned me to fear the truth. Learning it now felt completely out of place. I wasn’t ready.

“Aunt Shayla, I’ve had enough of cold, hard reality today,” I said, “I never want to tell you no, but on this one I have to. You always love to quote Gone With the Wind. Well, tomorrow is another day. Whatever she needs to talk to me about can wait until then.” I started up the steps and then thought better of it, “I love you, Aunt Shayla. But a girl can only take so much.”

* * *

I was restless that night. I had tried to go to bed early in hopes of being well rested for a day at the lake the next day. But there was too much on my mind. I wondered if McKenna was still up.

I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was a little after eleven. I could at least just walk over and see if she was on her porch.

I slowly padded down the stairs. I thought everyone would be long asleep, but I could hear voices from the kitchen.

“Naomi, you can’t leave Addie. Not again. She’s sixteen now! Not a baby. The damage you would do to her would be irreparable.” My Aunt Shayla was heated.

My stomach dropped. My mother was abandoning me?

“Shayla, I’d be doing her a favor. I’m a complete fuck up. And once she knows what I did, she won’t want to speak to me ever again anyway.” I could hear her exhaling. She was smoking.

“Why don’t you give her a chance to decide that on her own?” Aunt Shayla scowled, “She’s a child! She needs her mother! Especially with what’s happening to yours. Can you think of anyone other than yourself? For once in your damn life?”

My mother shushed her, I guess afraid that Aunt Shayla’s raised voice would wake me.

“Believe it or not, I am thinking of her. Here she can have a normal life. She doesn’t have to deal with my inability to find happiness. Because you know I never will, right? I have to pay for what I did, for the rest of my life. And I can’t bear to be around her when she finds out. I can’t take it, Shayla. I can’t see her face crumble in disappointment or worse, in complete disgust. It’s enough for me to be around Momma. I can barely take that.” She was crying now, “Everyone will be much better off with me gone.”

Part of me wanted to make my presence known. So she could know I knew what her plan was. Another part of me wondered what she was so afraid for me to know. But the biggest part of me was that little girl who had missed her mother as a child. I would look out the window a lot, waiting for her to show back up. And even though life hadn’t been easy with her, I was still so grateful she had chosen to come back. I had tried my best to be a good kid so she would never be tempted to leave again. Now I felt like it hadn’t been enough somehow.

I turned around and slowly went back upstairs. Instead of going to my room I went into my mother’s. I couldn’t let her leave me again. I would sleep here tonight. Every night if I had to. It was too much to be left by Grandma, who couldn’t help it. Whatever she had done could be forgiven. I would tell her. I would tell her no matter what we said or did to each other, we could forgive. We had to. When all you have is each other, there’s no other choice.

17

The next morning I woke up in bed with my mother snoring next to me. Relieved, I decided to go downstairs and make us breakfast.

Grandma sat in the living room in her Barcalounger. It was the middle of June and she was bundled up in a thick terry cloth robe, Isotone slippers on her feet.

“Good morning, angel.” Her voice was soft.

“You okay, Grandma?” I asked. I knelt next to her, taking her hand.

“Just not feeling so good this morning,” she admitted, “A lot on my mind and all.”

I nodded, “There’s a lot to think about. Do you want to talk to me about it? You know I’d do anything for you.”

She smiled at me, putting her hand against my cheek, “Your presence is all I could ever need. It helps me more than you will ever know.”

We stayed there for a few moments just listening to the box fans turn and the birds chirrup outside. It looked like a beautiful day. Any other June we would have had big plans to go to the park and ride paddle boats or to the YMCA to swim, treading water while talking about whatever was on our minds. We’d have tomato sandwiches for lunch, éclair pie for something sweet, and maybe go to a steak house for dinner. We’d stop at a Blockbuster on our way home, rent a video and stay up late watching a romantic comedy. Grandma always let me pick and I almost always picked something that starred either Molly Ringwald or Julia Roberts. We’d eat popcorn and drink Pepsi and finally go to bed around midnight, happy and full, with no inkling of what the future held.

“Shayla told me Ryan Kidson came by last night.” My grandma finally spoke, “She said he took you out on a drive. How’d that go?”

I smiled, “It wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Oh I bet it wasn’t.” Grandma suddenly sat up and seemed to be more herself for a moment, “Tell me everything.”

I laughed, “Well, he told me wanted to take me to his special spot. Somewhere he goes when he needs to clear his head. Grandma, it was the water tower. Over on the edge of town, the one that says ‘Rutledgeville: Home of the Raiders’ on it.”

“Angel, it’s the only water tower in town. He took you there? What’s there to do at a water tower?”

“We climbed up it! To the top!”

Grandma gasped and clutched her heart, “That sounds terrifying! I hope you were careful!”

I nodded, “It was scary but totally okay. And we just sat up there and talked about stuff and then we climbed back down and he brought me home.” I sighed, “I wish there was more to tell you. I wanted him to kiss me so badly.”

Grandma chuckled, “I can’t blame you. If I was a pretty teenage girl, I’d want someone like Ryan Kidson to kiss me too!”

As we laughed I could hear footsteps moving around upstairs. My mother was up. The memory of last night came back to me and I was nervous again.

“What’s wrong, Addison?” Grandma asked, “Your whole face just fell. Did something happen with your momma last night?”

I looked at Grandma, her face painted with concern. I didn’t want to put more on her than she had already. I shook my head.

“No, everything is okay. I came home and she was just in the kitchen talking to Aunt Shayla. I said goodnight and went to bed.”

Grandma gave me a look, but she didn’t press any further. Instead, she asked me, “So what are your plans for today?”

I shrugged, “Nothing. Ryan invited me to the lake with the girls but I think I’m going to stay home.” So my mother doesn’t have a chance to leave me.

Grandma looked at me like I had grown an extra eyeball, “And why would you do that? I hope it’s not on account of me. You will not waste one of the few teenage summers you have hanging out watching me do nothing. I’m fine, Addie. Life doesn’t stop just because I’m sick. I won’t allow it.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment. I couldn’t tell her the real reason. And I had just gotten through telling her about my dreamy evening with Ryan Kidson. She knew I would kill to spend more time with him. I needed to talk to my mom. I could hear the shower running upstairs.

“Grandma, I don’t feel right spending time with friends and having fun. It just feels shitty to do it.” This was all true.

“Don’t be crass, Addison McCurtis,” Grandma pointed her finger at me, “You only get to be sixteen in the summer one time. Just once. The whole of a young life is measured in its summers. I will not let you squander an inch of it.”

I stood up, “Well, let me at least talk to mom and see how she’s holding up. Maybe y’all could do something together today? Did you have a good talk on the drive home from the hospital?”

Grandma was quiet. She turned the frayed edges of her robe’s belt over in her hand.

“It was that bad?” I asked.

“It was very hard,” Grandma confessed, “It was the hardest conversation I’ve ever had. And what’s worse, is the hard conversations will continue. As much as I am glad to know what’s ahead, it leaves a hole in my heart. I don’t want to leave any of you.”

“Then don’t.” I knelt in front of her again, “Fight this. Try, Grandma. Please.” My eyes fill with tears.

“Sweet, child. Don’t you know? I’ve been fighting this a long time. Almost two years. If it was about fighting it more, don’t you think I would? There are some things you just can’t beat. It pains me to say that to you. But remember, the cancer is fighting me too. And I just don’t have the strength anymore. I wish I did. I wish I wasn’t letting you down.”

I held her as we both cried, “You could never let me down. It’s just so unfair. You don’t deserve this, Grandma!”

Grandma pulled me back and wiped my tears with her knuckles, “None of us do, Addison. That’s what makes it so terrible.”

* * *

My mother came downstairs about half an hour later, her hair damp. She had on a long skirt and a tank top.

“You look lovely, Naomi.” My grandma sat at the kitchen table eating a soft boiled egg I had made her.

“Thanks, Momma.” Mom leaned over and kissed Grandma’s head. I stood against the counter with a mug of coffee. For the first time since we had gotten to Virginia, she came over and hugged me.

“Good morning, Addie.” She held me tight, “It was a surprise to see you in my bed last night. You haven’t done that in a couple years.”

“I missed you.” I wanted her to know. She couldn’t leave me if she knew I would miss her.

“Well.” Her voice quavered for a moment, “I’m not going anywhere. So no need to miss me.”

My heart swelled. It was all I needed to hear. But I wasn’t positive I could believe it.

“Naomi, Addie has been invited to the lake with her friends. Please encourage her to go. She seems to think because I’m sick she has to make herself miserable. And being that I get to have a summer of wishes, being that it’s my last one, I wish for her to have a fun summer day. As her momma, what’s your opinion?”

Mom smiled at me before turning around, “I think Addie is old enough to decide what she wants. But I do agree, Addie. A day out would be good for your mind and spirit. I promise, things will be okay here. Shayla is coming over later and I’m not going anywhere today.”

“You’re not?” I asked, skeptical.

“Nope.” Mom sat in the chair next to Grandma, “I’m going to spend the day with my mom. What do you say?”

Grandma reached out for Mom’s hand, “There’s very little I would love more than a day with my girl.”

It was like the news we’d gotten yesterday had changed my mother. I don’t know what they talked about in the drive home last night but something had shifted. But then why did my mother still want to leave all of us? There was the continuing feeling that something was happening around me that I didn’t know about.

“If you promise me you’ll be here when I get home, I’ll go.” I said.

My mother looked at me, “Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know. But promise me you’ll stay.” I looked her directly in the eyes. It was my way of telling her I had heard without Grandma needing to know what we were referring to.

Her eyes teared up, “I promise, Addie. I won’t leave. I swear.”

“Well, in that case, I guess I should find my swimsuit.” I looked at Grandma nervously, “You’ll be okay?”

Grandma nodded, “Get on outta here. Have some fun. Enjoy the day!”

* * *

I put a towel, sunscreen, and some extra clothes in a Jansport backpack and walked over to McKenna’s house. I could hear the stereo playing from her bedroom window when I was only half way down the path between our homes.

I knocked tentatively on the door. It took a couple of times before anyone heard me, but soon enough, Mr. Holt was there to let me in.

“Hey, Addison!” Mr. Holt was tall and gangly. He had a small circle of a bald spot right at the crown of his head. He was wearing a Tommy Bahama t-shirt and jean shorts. He couldn’t look more like a dad if he tried.

“Hey, Mr. Holt,” I said stepping past him into the foyer. I could see Mrs. Holt in the dining room typing on an electric typewriter.

“Hey, Addie!” she called to me, “How’s Grandma doing?”

It was too much to get into and I didn’t want to start the day off on a somber note so I just said, “She’s hanging in there. We brought her home last night.”

“Good!” she started typing again as she said, “McKenna is upstairs gettin’ gussied up. Y’all have some fun today!”

“We’ll try.” I wondered what kind of scene Mrs. Holt was writing right now. There was a bookcase in the foyer that was filled with books with bodice ripper covers, muscled men with long hair clinging to women who looked like they were fainting.

As I bounded upstairs the music got a whole lot louder. When I opened McKenna’s door I caught her dancing on her bed.

“Oh my gosh, thank God it’s you, I was about to yell at Daddy for not knocking!” she jumped off the bed and hugged me.

“Girl, you wouldn’t have heard anyone knock with this music up so loud,” I said, throwing my backpack on a chair in the corner, “What is this anyway?”

“Deana Carter!” McKenna walked over to her stereo and turned the volume down, “She’s a new country singer. I just got her album yesterday.”

“People sure love their country music here,” I observed sitting on the edge of her bed.

McKenna gave me a funny look, “Doesn’t everyone?”

I laughed, “Not as much as they do in Rutledgeville.”

McKenna continued to dance in front of the floor length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door. She was wearing a pink bikini that had strings that tied at her hips. There wasn’t a drop of cellulite on her, or a tan line to be seen. She was perfection and I immediately wished I had played sick. No girl wants to be in a bathing suit next to McKenna Holt.

“When’s Rhiannon getting here?” I asked.

McKenna gave me a sly smile, “She’s coming with Jackson. Kyle is picking you and I up with Ryan!”

I could feel the anxiety in my core. Ryan was on his way over. I wondered how he would be around me after last night. I looked at myself in the mirror over McKenna’s vanity. I could use improvement. Being around McKenna didn’t help my self-esteem much.

“What’s wrong?” McKenna asked, sitting next to me on the bed.

“I’m just nervous.” I confessed.

“About your grandma?” McKenna asked. I felt guilty because that wasn’t why I was nervous at all. And I really didn’t want to talk about it.

“No. She’s doing okay. I mean, she’s not doing great but that’s not why I’m nervous.”

“Well, why? Because of Ryan?”

I explained to her about what happened the night before. Her eyes got huge.

“Addie! That’s unbelievable. Ryan never takes anyone to the water tower. No one. Kyle has been with him like once. Because it’s technically on his family’s land and all. But Ryan is definitely a loner in that way. I don’t think he’s ever even taken Rachel.”

I smiled, “He said I was the first and only girl to go up there with him.”

McKenna squealed, “Oh my God! Addie, that’s crazy. So now you’re nervous? About seeing him again?”

I nodded, “A little. You know, I don’t know what to really expect.”

McKenna stood, “Well, you look great. So no worries on that. But I do want to remind you to try your best to keep your heart shut a bit with Ryan Kidson. Not because of you. I just know Ryan and I don’t want him to hurt you. Not that he would want to hurt you, I mean. I guess I’m not sure what I mean. Just be careful, okay? You have enough to deal with.”

“I’m trying, I promise,” I lied. I couldn’t shut my heart to Ryan Kidson. When it came to him, my heart was not just slightly ajar. It was wide open.

18

About twenty minutes after my pep talk from McKenna, the boys showed up. They were in Kyle’s Jeep Cherokee. It was red and the doors and top were off it. It was the perfect summer vehicle.

“So, is Kyle Joel rich or something?” I whispered to McKenna as we walked down the steps towards the Jeep.

“Kind of. I mean, for here. The Joels own half the town. Kyle is spoiled rotten but only in a redneck kind of way. Rich rednecks love Jeeps, trucks, beer, and guns. Not necessarily in that order.” McKenna gave a huge flirty grin to Kyle who was standing in the driver’s seat, whistling at us.

“Hey, ladies.” Kyle started howling at the moon like a wolf, “Y’all are killin’ me. Lookin’ so damn ripe!”

“Ripe?” I asked as Ryan walked over.

“It’s a good thing,” Ryan assured me, “How are you?”

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and picked me up off the ground. I laughed and looked up. Our faces were less than an inch apart. He had the most gorgeous eyes. I was utterly and completely in heaven at that moment.

“I’m great now,” I said.

“Good!” Kyle interrupted, his arm was around McKenna, “Ryan, you’re driving. I’m gettin’ in the back with this pretty little thing. Addie, you sit up front with your love bird.”

I blushed and when I looked over to Ryan I could see he was blushing too. But he didn’t deny it which made me happier than anything had since last night.

We piled into the Jeep and we were on our way to a day that had endless possibilities.

* * *

An hour later I was floating on a black inner tube in a lake next to McKenna and Rhiannon. It was noon by then so the sun was hitting us with brutal rays.

“How can the sun cause cancer? It’s so wonderful.” McKenna laid back on the tube, her long blonde hair skimming the surface of the water.

“Because of pollution. Or something. Maybe?” Rhiannon was actually in the water, her long body sticking out through the donut hole of her float, her arms swung over both sides.

“Today I could care less.” I add, stretching my toes and glancing over to the pier where the boys were shoving one another into the water.

“You mean you couldn’t care less.” McKenna smirked at me.

“You and your semantics.” I lightly splashed her legs.

It was the perfect summer day in 1996. I could have stayed there forever in that moment. I had friends, a boy to like, and a Grandma who was alive and spending a day with my mother. On the VCR of my life this is where I’d want to hit pause.

Suddenly a red truck with loud, thumping music pulled up next to Kyle’s Jeep and Big Rhoda. The boys yelled over and once the driver was out of the truck I could see why they were excited.

Bode had jumped out and was carrying a massive red cooler that I guessed was full of alcohol. Bode had a huge grin on his face and carried that cooler with pride. I assumed he wouldn’t have a grin like that over Pepsis and root beer.

“Hey, y’all!” he called out.

I saw Kyle open up the cooler and immediately request a high five from Jackson. Ryan lifted up a six pack of beer and showed it to us.

“Wow. Day drinking. I feel so grown up.” McKenna started paddling towards the shore, “Come on, ladies. Now the fun really starts.”

We followed behind her. Once we got to the shore I made sure to wrap a towel around my waist. McKenna, on the other hand, had half her bikini bottoms riding up her ass. She definitely didn’t seem to be aware or care. I wouldn’t either if I looked like her.

Rhiannon was like me, she immediately put her shorts on. I didn’t feel so out of place now.

Bode let down the tailgate of his truck and us three girls jumped up to sit. Ryan handed me an open beer can.

“Unless you want it in a cup?” he asked, seeming so genuinely concerned about how I consumed an illegal substance.

“Nope, I think everything tastes better in its original packaging.” I smiled and actually winked. Who was I?

He stood close to me at the edge of the truck. McKenna and Kyle were more provocative. She had her legs spread and Kyle stood between them, kissing her neck while she sipped a wine cooler that matched the color of her bikini. Jackson and Rhiannon talked casually on the other end, neither of them partaking.

It was one of those instants where I immediately wondered how I had ended up in this moment that was straight out of a Sweet Valley High novel. A day at the lake. With boys. Drinking beer. It was exciting and it made me realize so suddenly I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was a burgeoning grown up. The thought was immeasurably both terrifying and exciting at the same time. I was almost dizzy with the realization.

Or that could have been the beer. This was only my second time ever drinking.

I did, however, feel uncomfortable sitting next to the passionate affections that McKenna and Kyle Joel were displaying in front of all of us. Ryan must have sensed it (or felt it himself) because he suddenly grabbed my hand and said, “Come sit at the pier with me.”

Is there anything more exhilarating than being led away somewhere by the hand of someone you’re falling in love with? Very few things come to mind.

We plopped down on the end of the rickety dock, our legs dangling next to one another. He had yet to let go of my hand. I found the courage to place my head on his shoulder as we sipped our drinks and stared out at some water skiers across the lake.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He smiled, squeezing my hand.

“Me too.” I squeezed back.

Behind us Kyle shouted down, “Hey! Kidson! McKenna and I are goin’ for a walk. Y’all okay?”

Ryan threw up a wave, “We’re good, man. Don’t get lost. I don’t want to have to search for your ass.”

Kyle gave him a thumbs up. McKenna clung to Kyle Joel’s side, clearly giddy to be heading off somewhere alone with him. It’s what she’d been waiting for.

“Hey, guys! I think we’re going to head to the other side and fish for a bit,” Jackson called to us a few seconds later, “Bode is coming with.”

“Okay! Good luck!” Ryan called back. He turned to me, a silly grin on his face.

I laughed, “You’re smiling like such a goober.”

“A goober? What’s that?” He put his face in front of mine.

“It’s you, Ryan Kidson.” I said, “You’re a goober.”

“Maybe you just make me that way,” he said, “Maybe I just think about you a lot and when I’m around you I just feel like a big ol’ goober.”

I blushed, “Well, I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on anyone.”

Ryan chuckled, “You’ve probably made dozens of guys silly over your prettiness. I’m sure I’m just one of many.”

I rolled my eyes, “Not quite.”

“Quite.” He looked at me, straight in the eyes. It was an intense stare and I could barely return it.

“I think we’re alone now,” I quietly muttered. His mouth was not even an inch from mine.

“Thank God for that,” he said and immediately his lips were on mine and my entire body became excited over this most amazing of kisses, the kind I would remember on my deathbed when I was a very old lady thinking back on the most beautiful moments of my life. This kiss and this boy would be something I would remember the rest of my days. It would be what everything would be compared to.

He held my face with one hand and wrapped his other arm around my body. He softly laid me down on the dock, his kisses only leaving my mouth for my neck, my ears, and then back to my mouth. I tingled all over. My hands were in his hair, then on his shoulders. I had never done this with anyone before and I was so nervous I was doing it all wrong but in the moment it seemed to come so natural. I never wanted it to end.

We must have made out on that dock by the lake for half an hour. There was nothing done below the neck but it was the most passionate thing that had ever happened to me. When our kisses finally slowed down and we were sitting back up I was disappointed that it was ending. I wanted to live on that dock and kiss Ryan Kidson for the rest of my life.

“Wow.” I was sitting in front of him, my legs dangling towards the water. He sat behind me, his legs straddling my back, both arms around me, “Wow. Wow.” It was all he said for a moment.

I was quiet. In front of him my smile was huge but I tried to play it cool. I drummed his calves with my fingertips.

“That was fun.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Beyond.” Ryan kissed the back of my head, “What a great day.”

Despite my immense attraction to him I never felt uncomfortable around Ryan. Even in that moment of post-kiss bliss, I felt at ease in my skin. He wasn’t a guy who made you feel like he was bestowing an honor on you by allowing you to be in his presence. There was no arrogance or ego. He was just a good guy, and when you’re sixteen that’s not always easy to find. Most guys my age were dealing with so much in their own head that they came off as abrasive and mean. Their need to assert themselves and play at being men could be intimidating if you were in their way. Ryan wasn’t like that at all. He came off as wise beyond his years.

We sat there for a while. When we were both done with our drinks, Ryan kissed my forehead and stood up to get us new ones.

“Be right back,” he said. I watched him walk up to the cooler, listened to him move the melting ice to find us the coldest cans.

When he came back we were quiet for a while, just holding hands and looking out at the water.

“So anything exciting happen last night after you dropped me off?” I asked, taking a swig of my beer.

Ryan shook his head, still staring at the water, “Nothing good. I came home and my parents were in the middle of a huge fight. I was hoping I had stayed out late enough that I would miss it. At least my dad didn’t throw any punches this time.” He didn’t look at me when he said it but his right eye twitched a little.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I really was.

“It’s okay,” he looked at me and smiled, “She was the captain of the cheer team. He was the star basketball player. They thought they could make the magic they had in high school last forever. They didn’t realize that who you are at sixteen isn’t who you’re supposed to be at forty. And if it is, something went terribly wrong along the way.” He took a swallow from his drink, “And that’s my dad’s problem. He’s angry no one thinks he’s anything special anymore. He knows he’s lost his shine. He tries to get it back through me and sometimes I hate him for that.”

I squeezed his hand. It was all I could think to do.

“Anyway,” he said, brushing aside his confession, “How was Grandma this morning?”

I shrugged, “She seemed okay. I made her breakfast. She’s spending the day with my mom, which I think is good. I hope.”

Ryan nodded, “You’re such a sweetheart. You know that?”

I laughed nervously, “I’m really not. I just love her so much.” My hands shook thinking about Grandma eating her soft boiled egg at the kitchen table. She had looked like a delicate bird. I was so scared of what was going to happen to her.

Ryan wrapped his arm around me, “You really are.”

I leaned into the crook of him, that space that’s perfect to be held in. I breathed him in, his smell that was a mix of grass, deodorant, and man. He was my peace at that moment. I hoped I was his.

* * *

Jackson, Rhiannon, and Bode came back soon after that.

“Any catches?” Ryan asked.

Jackson shook his head, “No. Bode was being too rowdy. The fishermen asked us to get lost. He kept asking them the dumbest questions. He’s drunk.”

Bode laid in the back of the truck, a ball cap over his face. Quite the catch himself.

Rhiannon skipped over to me and grabbed my arm. She whispered into my ear, “Did you enjoy your alone time?” I winked at her and she grinned.

“Are Kyle and McKenna still on their ‘walk’?” asked Jackson, “It’s been over an hour.”

I looked at Rhiannon, concerned, “Should we go look for them?”

Ryan shook his head, “No. Kyle loves long walks with the ladies. They’re fine.” Ryan could see my apprehension and added, “If they’re not back in thirty minutes, we can go find them.”

Ten minutes later I could hear footsteps coming from the woods. Suddenly a coral colored bikini and shirtless boy came out.

“McKenna!” I called out, running over to her. She had a strange look on her face but she seemed happy. She was holding onto Kyle Joel’s arm. His face was passive. What on Earth had they been doing in the woods for so long?

“Hey,” she said. She seemed like she was in a trance.

“Are you okay?” I asked. I looked over at Kyle who had been so spirited before they left and now seemed tired.

“Yeah, for sure.” She squeezed my arm, “I’ll tell you about it later.”

My red flag went up, “He didn’t try something-“

McKenna was focused again, “No! No, nothing like that. This isn’t an Afterschool Special. I’ll tell you later, it’s just awkward right now.”

I let go of her and walked back over to Ryan who was flicking gravel at the brim of the ball cap covering Bode’s face.

“How is he this wasted?” asked Ryan, “I feel like we didn’t drink that much.”

“It’s Bode. You know he has no tolerance.” Kyle Joel said looking at Ryan, “I’m wiped out, man. You feel like heading back?”

Ryan looked at me and I could tell he wasn’t ready to leave. It was such a great feeling to know that.

“Yeah, if you’re tired and all,” Ryan took my hand, “You ready?”

I nodded, “Sure, I’d like to check on Grandma anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to watch my brothers and sister tonight,” Rhiannon said, “Jackson is actually going to help me.”

McKenna and I looked at one another. That was interesting.

“Yeah, I told her she owes me a McFlurry or two after tonight.” Jackson put his arm around Rhiannon. I could tell she was in heaven.

It seemed we had all had quite the romantic summer afternoon. But there was something weird happening between Kyle and McKenna. As we hopped into his Jeep, he didn’t ask to sit in the back with her so I took the seat next to her. Ryan seemed to question it too, he gave Kyle a puzzled look.

“I can drive if you want,” Ryan said.

“Nah, man. You’ve been drinking. I’m more sober,” was Kyle’s reply.

I waved goodbye to Rhiannon as she climbed into Big Rhoda with Jackson.

“We’re just going to leave Bode?” McKenna asked.

“We always leave Bode. He’ll sleep in the back of his truck for a couple hours, wake up, and drive home. It’s the Bode Hinton way.” Ryan winked at me.

The drive back home was quiet and awkward. Ryan kept reaching back and tickling my legs and I pretended to hate it and slap his hand away. Next to me McKenna had reached forward to put her hand on Kyle’s shoulder but he didn’t respond to it. She sat back looking defeated. I was sad for her.

When we got to my Grandma’s house, Ryan held out his hand to help both McKenna and I out. Kyle didn’t even get out of the Jeep at all. McKenna looked back at him, shrugged, and said, “I’ll meet you at my porch in a bit, Addie. After you check on your Grandma and all. Bye, Ryan.” She gave a little wave and sadly started walking down the path between our houses.

Ryan and I looked at one another, confused. He looked over at Kyle who was staring straight ahead, tapping on the steering wheel impatiently.

“Dude, what’s your deal? You didn’t even walk her to her door.” Ryan being aware of the rudeness made him that much more attractive to me.

“Nothin’. I’m just worn out, man. I went to the gym this morning and lifted. I’m just tired.”

“Bullshit.” Ryan scolded, “Your ass isn’t too tired to walk a girl to her damn door. You’re being an ass.”

Kyle didn’t answer. Ryan took me by the hand and walked with me towards the porch.

“I don’t know what his deal is.” Ryan whispered to me, “You make sure McKenna is okay. Kyle can be a real jerk sometimes. She didn’t deserve that.”

I nodded, “Yeah, I’ll talk to her about it. Maybe they got in an argument.”

As we reached my screen door I could hear laughter echoing in from the living room. It was my mother’s. The breath I didn’t know I had been holding left my body and I was immediately relieved.

“Hey.” He touched my chin with his hand, “I want to see you tomorrow. You got plans?”

I shook my head, “None that I can think of. And if I did, I would cancel them.” Geez, Addie. Play a little hard to get.

But Ryan seemed really happy with that reply, “Addie McCurtis, I sure had a good day. I think I’ll remember it for a long while.” He leaned forward and lightly kissed my lips. It was the lingering kind of kiss. The kind that holds promises.

19

Knowing my mother was home and all seemed okay, I decided McKenna needed me more at the moment. As I watched Kyle Joel’s Jeep speed down our driveway, I walked down the path towards McKenna’s house.

She was on the porch, laying on the glider chair her mom had just bought. I could tell she had been crying. Her face was puffy and her hair was stuck to the sides of her cheeks.

“What happened?” I asked, sitting next to her and holding her hand. She sniffled.

“I guess I messed up.” She looked out towards the bird feeder where two cardinals chirped away, “I just wasn’t ready to do what he wanted. And then he acted all put out about it and it just got so weird. He’s never been so cold to me.”

“So he did try something.” I was angry, “Tell me what he did.”

“It wasn’t like that. We were walking and we went off this path where there was a small patch of grass that the sun was hitting just right. He said I should lay down, so I did. We started making out and kidding around. Everything was so fun and harmless. And then he untied the ties to my bottoms,” she pointed towards her bikini bottoms that she was still wearing under her cutoff shorts, “And I told him I didn’t like that. I thought we were just kidding around. So I tied them and then he untied the back of my top. So by then I was getting annoyed and I asked him to please stop. So then he says ‘Well, what did you come back here with me for?’ and gets all huffy. I tried to get his attention again. I mean, I wanted to do stuff I just didn’t want to get too heavy. I mean, anyone could have walked up on us, and it just didn’t feel very romantic. But he just got so mad. He seemed so dejected and put out and that’s when he gave me the cold shoulder. I tried to be sweet to him on the walk back but he wasn’t really having it.” She started crying, “I really like him so much and now I’ve messed it all up. I’m such an idiot!”

She sobbed into my shoulder. I was so angry I could barely see straight. Kyle Joel was an asshole.

“McKenna,” I said, squeezing her hand, “You are not an idiot. Kyle Joel is the idiot. You bruised his ego for daring to actually tell him you were uncomfortable. You did absolutely nothing wrong. It sounds like he was acting like a complete slime bucket. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

She shook her head, “Don’t you know anything about guys at all? They don’t deal with rejection well. Especially someone like Kyle who can have any girl he wants. So now that he thinks I’m a prude bitch, he’ll move on to another girl that won’t be so uptight.”

I was completely baffled, “And so what? So you should do something you don’t want to do just to make him happy? What about your happiness?”

McKenna rolled her eyes, “What does that matter?”

I sighed. For such a beautiful girl, McKenna was one of the most insecure people I had ever met.

“Your happiness matters to me. And Kyle Joel couldn’t get any girl he wanted. I’m starting to think Rhiannon was right about him. He’s a dick hole. You could have anyone you want, McKenna. Don’t you know that?”

McKenna looked at me through eyes filled with tears, “But all I want is him.”

* * *

That night we slept on cots on the Holts’ wraparound porch, falling asleep to the sound of cicadas and crickets. It had been hard for me to sleep, the adrenaline from my beautiful day still fresh inside my veins, I couldn’t stop thinking of Ryan Kidson and our afternoon on a dock by the side of a lake.

I had never kissed anyone in my life like I had kissed him. Besides my kiss in Las Vegas during a game of Truth or Dare, my cupboard of sexual experience was pretty empty. Not that I even thought of what happened with me and Ryan as sexual. If anything it had just been warm and right. Sexualizing it seemed to lower the level of it. It had been a big deal for me and I couldn’t stop thinking about it and wishing I could relive it all over again.

When first light hit, McKenna and I groggily stumbled to the kitchen and poured ourselves bowls of Captain Crunch.

“How you feeling?” I asked as I poured myself a glass of orange juice.

“Eh.” She shrugged.

We chewed silently. I could hear Mrs. Holt turning on her electric typewriter in the other room.

“Guess Momma’s muse hit her.” McKenna sighed, “I just want to sleep all day.”

Sleep was the last thing I wanted to do. Ryan had said he was going to come see me today. I hoped it was sooner rather than later. I felt guilty being this happy next to someone so despondent. And really, with what was going on at home with Grandma, maybe I shouldn’t have been as hopeful about this day. But I figured when you’re dealing with a long arch of tragedy, it’s important to enjoy the shorter moments of bliss.

* * *

After breakfast I said goodbye to McKenna and wandered back over to Grandma’s. I was actually humming as I approached the porch.

My eyes widened. Laying in front of the door was a bunch of daisies with a card resting against them. I could see my name on the outside of the envelope. I hurriedly opened it.

Addie-

Been thinking about you this morning. I’m helping my mom hang up some curtains and then I’m heading over to pick you up for the day. Pack a lunch and bring some of your lemonade. A thermos full if you have it. –Ryan

I did that stereotypical thing that girls do in movies, clutching the letter to my chest and smelling the flowers. And daisies, of all the flowers he could have chosen. I couldn’t wait to show Grandma.

When I walked in I could hear bacon sizzling on the griddle. Grandma sat at the kitchen table concentrating on a crossword puzzle. My mom stood at the counter. The radio was on (and it was the rock station instead of country, for once) and my mom was moving her hips to the thump of the music.

“Good morning, family!” I said, my arms open wide, “It’s such a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

They both looked up at me at the same time. For the first time in my life, I noticed my mother and my Grandma shared the same face, just three decades apart.

“Well, hello there.” Grandma laughed, “Someone is either really well rested or in love. Or maybe both? Though usually one doesn’t compute with the other.”

I handed her the flowers and the card. She read it and handed it to my mother, who was still staring at me. Her expression was hard to read at the moment.

“He’s a sweetheart, that Ryan.” Grandma chuckled to herself, “He’s just the kind of boy that’s perfect for summer love.”

“You’ve barely known him a week,” my mother commented, placing the card down and turning back to the griddle, “Just be careful.”

Leave it to my mother to try to be the buzzkill. If it was any other time and circumstance I would say as much to her, but today I refused to ruin the moment.

“No one said anything about love,” I said, sitting down, “I’ve never gotten flowers before. It’s sweet.”

Mom kept cooking but she wasn’t dancing anymore. Grandma leaned over to me, “And daisies? That’s a good sign.”

“I thought the same thing,” I whispered back, squeezing her hand.

My mother placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Grandma. She barely looked at me when she said, “I didn’t know when you would be back so I didn’t make enough for you.”

“It’s okay,” I said, cheerily, “I ate already. I’m going to go take a shower. And pack a lunch. Are you all going to be alright today?”

Grandma nodded, “Naomi is taking me to the cemetery.”

My stomach dropped, “Have you been before?”

“Oh yes, a few times. With Shayla. But never with your momma.” She looked up at Mom, her eyes kind, “So today we’re visiting together.”

“Well, maybe I should go with. I can tell Ryan I have plans.” I didn’t want them to go without me. I felt like it was time I finally visited Granddaddy’s grave. I had never been. When we had been here for his funeral years ago we only went to the wake. My mom and Grandma got in an argument and we ended up leaving town early.

“No.” My mother was vehement, “It’s just going to be us this time.” Her voice softened, I guess she realized how intense she had come off. “It’s just too much as it is. I don’t want you to be sad today. Enjoy your day with friends.”

I looked at them both, “If you say so. I feel guilty.”

Grandma laughed, “No need to feel guilty, sweetheart. I’ll take you another time, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, still unsure, “Will you tell him I miss him? I know!” I handed her the bouquet from Ryan, “Give him these. Tell him they’re from me.”

Grandma smiled, “Are you sure, angel? These are special flowers. You don’t have to give them away.”

“I don’t think of it like that,” I said. “This way, I never see them wilt. In my memory they will always be the vibrant, pretty flowers that a cute boy left on my porch. And I want Granddaddy to see them, if it’s possible that he can.”

* * *

Ryan showed up around ten. My mom and Grandma had already left so I was just hanging out in the living room, looking out the window every thirty seconds hoping to see his truck show up.

I had packed two lunches. Tomato sandwiches, two small bags of Utz potato chips, and two fudge rounds. And a huge thermos of lemonade with lots of ice. I decided to wear khaki shorts and a form-fitting shirt with a heart on it that I’m pretty sure I had seen Rachel Green wear on Friends. I felt cute. And ready.

Ryan hopped out of his truck. He was wearing a white t-shirt and basketball shorts. His tennis shoes were filthy and grass stained.

“Well, don’t dress up for me or anything,” I teased as he swooped me up off the ground, kissing me long and hard before putting me down.

“What, this isn’t dressed up?” he said, pretending to be shocked, “I wore my best t-shirt for you. This one has a hole in only one armpit.” He raised his left arm showing me a gaping rip.

I laughed, “Where are we going?”

“Work,” he said pointing to the back of his truck where his lawnmower sat, “I’ve got a big yard to mow today and I could use some company. I promise, it’ll be worth it. And you get to look at me sweating in the sun while pushing that beast around acres of yard. What girl could resist?” He smiled at me.

“Gee, when you put it that way.” We walked around to the passenger side. Before he opened the door he pressed me against it. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him for what must have been five minutes. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto my cheeks.

“Ha! Sorry, Addie,” he wiped it off my cheek, “Let’s get you in this truck where my air conditioning can cool us down.”

I rolled my eyes, “This truck has AC?”

As we hopped in he said, “Yeah. It’s called rolling the windows down and praying for a breeze.” I laughed.

* * *

The house we went to was a woman named Mrs. Kent. Ryan explained she was a widow, like my Grandma, but she was hard of hearing and so if he sounded like he was yelling at her that was why.

He wasn’t kidding. We had to ring her doorbell about nine times and finally pound on her door until she opened it. We couldn’t get in her backyard without her opening the gate from her side.

Mrs. Kent was tiny, probably barely five feet tall, if that. She had a short perm and her hair must have been freshly dyed because I could see some of it had stained her hair line. She had a voice that matched her stature.

“Oh, Ryan! I’m sorry, I hope you haven’t been standing here long,” she opened the door. “Come in, come in. I was watching The Price is Right and I must have had the TV up too loud.”

That was an understatement. She must have had it on the max volume. Bob Barker’s voice boomed throughout the house.

“And who is this pretty girl?” she asked, grabbing my hand. Her hands were cool to the touch, and so small.

“This is my friend Addie,” Ryan said winking at me, “You know her grandma. Mrs. McCurtis.”

Mrs. Kent’s eyes widened, “Why, yes. Of course. You’re Addison. I haven’t seen you since you were very little. Your grandma is in my mission circle. How’s she doing?”

“She’s okay,” I said.

“Well, I bet she’s better now that her pretty granddaughter is visiting her. Is Naomi with you?” The way Mrs. Kent said my mother’s name was funny. My mother must have had a reputation.

“She is.” Mrs. Kent still held onto my hand.

“Oh, good. She needs her. I miss my kids. I have three of them, all boys. One lives in Richmond, another in Harrisonburg, and my oldest lives in Atlanta. That’s very far, isn’t it?” she asked me, sounding so sad.

“It is,” I agreed. I had no idea what to say. Mrs. Kent was clearly so lonely.

“Mrs. Kent, I’m going to open your gate so I can get started, okay? And I need Addie if you don’t mind. She’s my helper today.”

Mrs. Kent let go of my hand, “Yes, of course. It was good to meet you, Addison. Tell your grandma that Helen said hello. She knows me.”

“I will. It was nice to meet you, too.”

As I stepped outside the heat smacked me in my face. The humidity was thick today. I gasped at how tall the grass was in Mrs. Kent’s back yard.

“Good grief,” I said, stepping down. It reached almost to my knees.

“Yeah,” Ryan replied. “I know. Poor Mrs. Kent always lets it get way out of hand. I usually try to check on her but I hadn’t been over this way in a while.”

“Does she pay you? I mean, this is a serious job.” I shuddered looking at it.

“Nah. I don’t take money from her. It doesn’t take as long as you think.”

“You know,” I said walking over to him, “Usually the way jobs work is you get paid for them. Otherwise, you’re just a volunteer.”

He laughed, “Yeah, I’m probably a sucker. But I make enough from my paid jobs. I think it’s good to help people out who can’t help themselves. Besides, I’m worried someone would take advantage of her. She’s so sweet and unassuming. I would hate to think of someone ripping her off.”

I could have swooned. Ryan Kidson was something else.

He backed the truck up to the gate, pulled the tailgate down and lifted his mower out.

“Can I help?” I asked, watching him lift it out of the back.

“No way. I just want you to sit on that tailgate and look pretty while I work. And maybe pour me some lemonade. I hope that wasn’t too sexist.” He grinned.

“If it is, I don’t care.”

He kissed me quick on my mouth and was on his way. He started in the back corner of the yard. I watched him jerk on the lawnmower cord to get it to start. While it was running he peeled off his t-shirt and laid it over the top of her wooden fence that lined the entire yard.

So here I was. Drinking lemonade, sitting on a tailgate, while I watched a boy I liked mow the lawn of a sweet old lady. For free. While shirtless. God. Bless. America.

20

When we were done, we ate our sandwiches and chips in the bed of his truck. He remained shirtless and I remained transfixed by him. Though I tried to pretend otherwise.

“These are damn good,” he said. “There’s not a better tomato in the world than the one that’s grown in the Rut.”

I nodded, “That might be the truest thing one could ever say.”

We chewed in silence for a while. It was nice to be comfortable enough to be quiet with someone. There was no nervous need to fill in the gaps with Ryan. I didn’t know too many people I could say that about.

My mind wandered for a moment. I guessed my mom and Grandma were back from the cemetery by now. I wondered why Mom had been so adamant that I not go. I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I didn’t want Granddaddy to ever think I would forget him.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryan asked me. I guess I had been in a trance.

“My Granddaddy, actually.”

Ryan smiled, “I like how you call him ‘Granddaddy’. Not too many people use that term.”

“No? I guess I wouldn’t know. That’s what he’s always been to me.”

Ryan nodded, “I liked him a lot. He was a really great man. When he died is when I started going to your Grandma’s to cut the grass. She had never done it before. Your granddaddy would never have allowed it.”

“This is true,” I laughed. “He liked being her man. The one to take care of her.” My heart broke at the thought of him. A fifty-secondth of a marathon!

“Ryan.”

“Yeah?” he was crumbling up the brown paper bag I had put our sandwiches in.

“Do you believe in God?”

I could tell the question surprised him.

“Well that wasn’t what I was expecting,” he said, shifting himself over to me, “I mean, sure I do. Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, I don’t think everyone does.” I looked out at the grass in Mrs. Kent’s yard that was so trim and clean. There were diagonal lines through it that Ryan made with the mower.

“You don’t?” he asked. It wasn’t judgmental. Just incredulous.

“I mean, I don’t know. It’s not something I think about much,” I took his hand, ran my fingers over his palm, “Don’t freak out, I’m not a zealot or anything. I’m not here to save your soul.”

He laughed, “I didn’t take you for one. Around here there are plenty. Everyone here goes to church. We even pray before games. So I guess not believing is the part I never considered.”

“Well, I think about it a lot lately,” I confessed, “Because when someone is dying, it suddenly becomes important. You want to know you’ll see them again somehow.”

Ryan nodded, “Yeah. I can understand that. Well, if there is a God I know He’s sending your grandma straight to heaven. She’s going to be okay, Addie.” He wrapped his arm around me, “In the end that’s what happens. We’re all okay.”

I leaned against him. I envied how sure he was of everything.

“You saying that makes me almost believe it,” I muttered. “You know, Grandma didn’t even really start going to church until after Granddaddy died.”

“I don’t think that matters. Besides, being a good person and going to church aren’t always the same thing. I wish some of the people in this town understood that. Look at my dad. He’s a damn deacon! Goes every Sunday. And by most Monday mornings my mom has a black eye. Or he’s passed out on the couch after screaming at her all night. No, morality and religion are not the same thing. Not in my limited experience.” He squeezed me close to him and kissed my hair, “But you’re an angel, Addie McCurtis. Your grandma told me so.”

I leaned over to him, kissing his neck, “I’m not all that angelic. Not when I’m around you.”

It was bold and flirty and it did the trick. We must have kissed for twenty minutes before the heat got to be too much. And I don’t mean the sun.

* * *

As we drove down the street away from Mrs. Kent’s house, Ryan got excited.

“Hey! You feel like something? Lunch was fantastic but I’m in the mood for a Rut staple,” he said, turning down the radio.

“Sure. What are you thinking of?” I had been laying against the seat of his truck, staring at him.

“Well, Juniper Jill’s is this diner out on 305. They have the best milkshakes in the world,” he said. “Since you made us lunch I can at least get us some dessert. Not that I don’t appreciate a good fudge round. But nothing sounds better than a really cold milkshake right now. We can put two straws in it.” He winked at me.

I wasn’t normally a huge fan of milkshakes. I didn’t hate them but they were never something I craved. But if sitting at a diner drinking one would extend this day with Ryan Kidson, I would have had one in every flavor.

“Let’s do it.” I smiled, reaching for his hand across the torn up bench seat.

He took my hand and squeezed it. Then he turned up the radio. It wasn’t country this time.

“I didn’t know you liked rap music,” I observed.

“Yeah, it’s become kind of my thing. Jackson has me onto it. This guy on right now is 2Pac. You’ve never heard of him?”

I laughed, “Of course I have. I’m just surprised you have.”

Ryan Kidson surprised me every day it seemed.

As we pulled up to Juniper Jill’s I could see it was crowded. He parked towards the back of the lot and ran around my side to open the door for me.

“Such a gentleman,” I said.

“I try. My mom taught me well.” He took my hand and led me to the door.

As soon as we got in there, things got weird.

“Dammit.” Ryan had seen something towards the back of the diner that made him unhappy.

“What’s wrong?” I said. The hostess looked at both of us and asked, “Booth or counter top?”

“Where’s the booth?” Ryan asked, still looking over in the corner.

“Over there,” the hostess said, pointing to the opposite side of the room. Ryan looked relieved.

“Yeah, that’s perfect. Come on, Addie.” He pulled me by the hand across the restaurant, past families feeding their kids chicken fingers and old men sipping soup.

As we sat down, I was starting to feel uneasy.

“You need to tell me why you’re being all weird.” I opened my menu.

“I’m sorry,” he said grabbing my hand across the table, “It’s just Courtney Showalter is here. I’m hoping she didn’t see me. She’s Rachel’s best friend.”

It was the first time he had mentioned her name since the day I asked about her on my porch. As soon as I heard it, my stomach dropped. I was hoping she had disappeared from his mind and life. It felt like she wasn’t a real person, just an idea of one. But hearing him say her name reminded me she was real and that one day she would be back to claim what was once hers.

We ordered strawberry milkshakes and talked about Grandma and Mom, how they seemed to be doing so well now. He asked me how I was holding up.

“Honestly, you’ve been a huge distraction from everything,” I said. “I feel kind of bad. I guess I’m still processing everything. When I see her she looks so different from how she looked before she was sick. But her mind and heart are completely the same. So it’s hard for me to remember how sick she is, how serious all of this is. I mean, they’re setting up hospice care at our house next week.” My hands shook under his. This wasn’t the time or place to have a breakdown.

“I’m so sorry,” he said as he moved over to my side of the booth. He wrapped his arms around me. “I can’t imagine how scary that is for you.”

The waitress brought us our shakes. They were in tall silver glasses and she put another frosted aluminum cup next to them with even more milkshake in it.

“This is a lot to drink,” I said, happy to change the topic.

“Yeah, they don’t mess around at Juniper’s.” Ryan didn’t even bother putting a straw in his. He gulped half of it down at once, leaving a thick strawberry mustache over his lip.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked putting his mouth close to mine.

“Maybe something.” I said and he kissed me, leaving milkshake on my mouth.

“Well, someone moved on fast.”

We both turned our heads. There, standing at the end of the table with her hand on her hip, was a tall, athletic girl with sandy blonde hair and sun kissed skin. She was wearing the tiniest pair of denim shorts that were possible to wear in public without being arrested. Her shirt was a baby tee with USA ’96 Atlanta printed across her chest.

“Hey, Court.” Ryan sighed. “I thought you were a camp counselor this summer.”

“I am,” Courtney Showalter said. “But I’m back this week for my sister’s wedding.” She stared at me, “Who are you?”

I didn’t answer. Ryan spoke instead, “Not that it’s any of your business, but this is Addie McCurtis.”

“Are you new?” she asked. Another girl had joined her. The girl stared at Ryan and me, her mouth unattractively open in surprise.

“I’m visiting for the summer,” I said.

Courtney rolled her eyes, “That explains it. You’re Ryan’s summer friend. Just so you know, my best friend is his girlfriend. Her name’s Rachel.”

I looked over at Ryan who looked like he wanted to throw Courtney Showalter out the window.

“Rachel’s not my girlfriend. And Addie doesn’t care or even need to care about someone who isn’t even here. Rachel doesn’t need you to fight her non-existent battles, Courtney.”

Courtney smirked, “I’m just trying to be a girl’s girl here. And remind Abby that you’re on the rebound and couldn’t possibly be serious about anyone. Especially after being with someone like Rachel.” She looked me up and down, clearly wanting to make it clear I wasn’t impressive to her.

“The name’s Addie,” I said. “And I’m also going to be a girl’s girl and let you know that wearing shorts that tight can be damaging to your labia. And cause yeast infections.” She recoiled, clearly stunned. “Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Gross,” she said, but I could tell I had hit my mark. She crossed her legs over one another. “Anyway, freak. I thought I would help you out by letting you know that by the end of the summer you won’t matter. But you’re probably used to that if you’re a McCurtis.”

I knew it was meant to be a cruel last jab, but it didn’t even bother me. It seemed more like a desperate ploy than anything. I laughed instead, saying nothing else.

Courtney dramatically turned to leave the diner, her friend scurrying off behind her. As she left, Ryan started clapping his hands in applause.

“Wow. Bravo, Addie. Courtney Showalter is a formidable foe in Teen Girl Bitchland and you just gave her a dose of her own medicine,” he took me by the hand. “That was pretty epic. But I’m sorry she was so nasty to you. She’s up Rachel’s ass. Always has been.”

I looked at him and smiled. But part of me wondered if maybe some of what she said was true. Because as much as I adored this boy and knew that he adored me, it was hard to forget about the past Ryan, the one who had loved someone else.

21

When Ryan dropped me off at my house, McKenna and Rhiannon were waiting for me on the porch.

They watched as Ryan opened the passenger side door for me and stared as he gave me a long kiss goodbye.

“Have a good night, ladies.” He waved to them and smiled, “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“You either, Ryan.” McKenna called back, her face solemn. He just laughed, hopped back in his truck and skidded down the driveway, honking back at us when he was almost out of sight.

“Hey, guys.” I bounded over to them and joined them on the front steps.

“You’re in a good mood,” Rhiannon observed.

“I am. I can’t help it,” I said looking at McKenna. “I feel bad saying that but today made me really happy. Well, except for running into some girl named Courtney Showalter, but even that turned out okay.”

McKenna grabbed my arm, “You ran into Courtney?” Her voice was panicked.

“Yeah. And don’t worry, I know she’s a bitch. She showed those colors very quickly. She doesn’t waste time.” I stretched my legs out and laid on my back.

“She’s Rachel’s best friend,” said McKenna. “What did she say to you?”

I shrugged, “What you say. That I shouldn’t get used to Ryan because of the great and powerful Rachel Lawson. And how he still loves her. And that I don’t matter because I’m a McCurtis. Whatever that means.”

Rhiannon and McKenna exchanged glances.

“Yeah, I don’t get the McCurtis part. Unless word about your mom has spread. This is a really small town.” McKenna laid down next to me, “But other than that, that’s just Courtney wanting to somehow score points with Rachel. She’s overly loyal to her.”

“It’s actually kind of creepy,” Rhiannon added. “They do everything together. And Courtney is constantly name dropping their friendship. ‘Well, Rachel and I did this’ or ‘Rachel says I should’ blah blah, shut up.”

McKenna laughed, “It’s so true. I don’t know how Courtney is functioning this summer without her best buddy.”

“Well someone should tell her to wear shorts that aren’t sized for a Kindergartner.” I said.

All three of us giggled.

We laid there for a while, just talking about our days. McKenna had slept most of the morning and later met up with Rhiannon and Jackson.

“Do you know how annoying it is to be the third wheel with a couple?” McKenna asked.

“We are not a couple,” Rhiannon protested. “I don’t think we are anyway. I mean, how do you even know? It seems stupid to say ‘Hey, are we a couple?’ Right?”

“Don’t ask me. I’m going to die alone.” McKenna started fake crying and we both rolled our eyes.

I noticed my bouquet of flowers from earlier was on the patio table next to the front door. I sat up suddenly. I had an idea. I hadn’t noticed until right then but the truck was gone from the driveway.

“I wonder where my mom and Grandma went?” I said.

“Oh, actually we’re supposed to tell you. They ran up to the Food Lion for groceries. Your grandma wanted to ‘get out and about’. Her words, not mine.” McKenna said, sitting up next to me. “She left the front door open for you.”

“Rhiannon do you have your car?” I unexpectedly asked. “Do you want to drive me somewhere real quick?”

“Sure,” Rhiannon said, standing up. “Where we going?”

“This is going to sound weird, but do you know where Rutledgeville Cemetery is?”

* * *

I had never actually been to a cemetery. When I thought of them I thought of the scene in Steel Magnolias where Sally Field has that absolutely profoundly beautiful breakdown that makes me bawl every time I watch her cry for her Shelby. The women in that scene are surrounded by tall headstones and concrete benches and trees.

Rutledgeville Cemetery was much smaller but it had the same type of layout. Numerous headstones, some tall with statues. Others short and square. There are some shaped like hearts and others shaped like angels. A few are flat. Beautiful live oaks acted as shade for the dead. It was quiet. We could only hear the breeze whispering through the leaves of the trees.

I had explained to the girls my plan. I had never visited Granddaddy’s grave and I knew it was because my grandma didn’t want me to see her emotional. She liked to stay strong for me. So by going on my own I was doing her a favor. And it was a win for me, because now I could pay my respects and give him the daisies they had forgotten to take with them when they visited earlier today.

“But how the hell are you going to find his grave if you’ve never been here before?” McKenna asked as we pulled up to the small lot adjacent to the cemetery.

“Oh. Well, I hadn’t really thought of that,” I admitted. “But between the three of us, one of us is sure to see something. I know that my great-grandparents are buried here too. And I think my Granddaddy’s brother. So there should be a cluster of McCurtis’s around here, right?”

McKenna rolled her eyes, “You’re lucky I love you. I would only do this for you or Rhiannon. Running around among the deceased was not on my agenda when I woke up this morning.”

I hugged her neck, “And I’ll never forget you did this. I owe you. And just think, once we know where it is, we never have to do this again.”

“Yaaaaay,” McKenna sarcastically said, clapping her hands. “So stoked.”

The cemetery was split up into three parts that were dissected by paths. Rhiannon ran down to the one farthest away. I took the middle one and McKenna started at the part nearest the parking lot.

I read the names of each gravestone quickly as I walked by, pausing at any that started with Mc. McGuire. McDonnell. MacDougall. McNeil. Hughes. Smith. Canfield. Abbott. It was tiring.

The heart shaped stones made my heart break. Most of them were couples, now lying next to one another for eternity. Some of them had dates of death that weren’t filled in yet. It must be weird to be out living in the world and have a place like this already waiting for you. I supposed Grandma knew what that was like but I couldn’t think of it too long or I’d forget why I came here at all.

It took me about twenty minutes before I had walked down every row. I had yet to see a McCurtis. I glanced over at McKenna. She was pausing a lot, browsing the names. On the other side, Rhiannon was like me, quick and decisive. Suddenly she started jumping up and down.

“Hey! I think I found him!” Rhiannon called out. “Is his name Duncan?”

I nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! That’s him!”

“Thank God!” McKenna called out. She did a cartwheel across the grassy knoll next to Big Rhoda.

“Did you just do a cartwheel in a cemetery?” I asked as she ran up to me.

“Sure did. Bet it’s the only one this place has ever seen.”

We hurried over to Rhiannon who was doing the Arsenio Hall whomp whomp motion with her arm.

“I feel like a winner,” she said.

Sure enough, there was Granddaddy.

Duncan George McCurtis

Born February 18, 1929

Died August 3, 1993

Beloved Husband, Father, and Grandfather

We know what love is, because he lived

My heart skipped a few beats. It was the perfect epitaph. It was Granddaddy’s entire life encapsulated perfectly into a brief sentence. I missed him so much in that sudden moment.

“Hey,” Rhiannon hugged me. “Do you want a moment with him? Alone?”

I nodded, still looking at the headstone, my eyes filled with tears, “Yes. If that’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to be this sad when I saw this.”

“We’ll be over there, by that tree.” Rhiannon pointed to one in the section where I had just been. “You take your time. I’m pretty sure one of my grandmas is buried in here too. So maybe I’ll look.”

The two of them both squeezed my arm as they walked away.

The bouquet of daisies was still in my hands, along with a small little note I had written out on our way there. It didn’t feel right to leave flowers without a note. There were some wilting daisies from the previous week, probably from Grandma. I put the fresh ones from Ryan on top of them and kneeled on the ground in front of the grave. It was strange to know my Granddaddy was underneath this soft earth. But it was comforting in a way, to know he was resting so close to me.

“Hi, Granddaddy,” I started. “It’s me, Addie.” I ran my hand along his name etched in stone. “I miss you so much. Nothing has been the same in my heart since you left. I don’t think it’s been the same in Grandma’s either. It took her a long time to even visit you and now I understand why. The absence of you is something we feel every day. We don’t forget it. It’s like losing a limb. I have phantom itches where you used to be. I’ll think ‘Granddaddy would like this’ and I try to remember it so I can tell you later. I’ve been doing this for years, Granddaddy.” Tears fell down my cheeks. “None of us even talk about you in past tense, if we’re able to even talk about you at all. When does it get easier? And just when I think I can live my life without you I find out my other limb is going to be lost soon too. Grandma is so sick.” I choke on a sob, leaning against the headstone. “She’s really sick and I know she won’t be here long. And it’s cruel, Granddaddy. I don’t have anyone else that will miss her as much as I will because you’re not here. And if you were, I could maybe get through this. But without either of you here, I don’t even know how the world will keep spinning. Because she is my entire world. She’s the axle on the wheel that’s my life and if she’s gone, I can’t keep turning. I know I can’t. And you’re not here to tell me it’s going to be okay. I miss you so much.” I shook with grief. “Being alive is painful enough sometimes. But without my Grandma, how will it work?”

I felt like the six year old who stood on the porch, clinging to her Grandma’s legs when a foreign woman invaded her life. I was lost just like she was, and being in the cemetery seeing the spot Grandma would be next to the Granddaddy I missed more than anything, it was just the most overwhelming burden to carry. There is nothing worse than knowing that the most painful event in your life is coming and there is nothing that you can do about it.

As I knelt by that headstone I could suddenly feel McKenna and Rhiannon’s arms around me. Nothing was said. They just did what best friends do; they let me grieve the past and the future and they cried by that grave with me.

* * *

Once I was able to get myself together and the tears had finally ceased we walked back to the car together, arm in arm.

“You know,” Rhiannon said. “Your Granddaddy would be really glad you’re here.”

I nodded, “I know.” I hugged her, “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“Oh, shit! I left my purse over by Duncan!” McKenna said. I laughed, “He’s holding it for you like the gentleman he is. I’ll go get it.”

“I’ll come with.”

When we got back to the headstone I noticed the breeze had blown a couple of the daisies over to a grave next to the Duncan McCurtis plot. As I picked them up the name on it stopped me in my tracks.

“Hey, there’s another McCurtis here,” I said, reaching down to look at the flat headstone on the ground.

Bennett Duncan McCurtis

Born June 8, 1968

Died August 11, 1979

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you…I’d walk through my garden forever”

“Tennyson.” I said. My grandma had said that line to me a million times. She had it embroidered on a pillow in her room. Who was Bennett?

“Do you know him? Wow. He was only 11 years old,” McKenna said touching his date of death.

“He has my birthday.” I said. I felt dizzy all of a sudden.

McKenna looked at me, her face worried. “That’s a pretty huge coincidence. You’ve never heard of him?”

I shook my head, “No, I definitely haven’t. And it just seems too much of a coincidence that he shares my last name and happens to be buried next to my relatives that there isn’t some story behind this.” My stomach dropped.

“Let’s get you home,” McKenna said. “This is a lot. I’m sure your grandma can explain it.”

As I walked back towards Big Rhoda my mind swirled around what I had just discovered. Why were there so many secrets? I was used to them with Mom. But Grandma had never kept anything from me. She had always been honest with me, told me as much as she could about what she knew. But seeing Bennett’s grave had suddenly changed everything. I was exhausted by this week. I wished I could escape to the water tower and be alone with my thoughts for a while. But until then, I would go home and seek the answers I knew I deserved.

22

On the drive home we put the windows down and listened to Tracy Chapman. Her powerful alto voice and the sincerity of her somber lyrics lulled me into a brief sleep. A muggy, June breeze hit my face. I could hear McKenna and Rhiannon have a quiet conversation up front but I didn’t have the energy to strain to listen. I was suddenly very tired.

When we pulled up to the house I could see my Grandma and Mom were back. Aunt Shayla’s van slumped in the driveway next to Grandma’s truck.

“Thanks, guys.” I leaned forward and squeezed them, still groggy from the drive, “Want to hang out tomorrow?”

“Screw tomorrow. Come over tonight after dinner and sleep over. Bode said he would drop off a couple of bottles of Boone’s Farm later tonight. Strawberry Hill!” McKenna chirped.

I laughed, “Sounds good to me.”

I walked up the porch and turned back to look at Rhiannon and McKenna as they walked down the path towards the Holts’ house. Last month I didn’t know them at all. Now they were my best friends. Within a week they had seen me through so many different emotions. They knew me in a way my own mother couldn’t, in the way only your friends know you. Their definition of me wasn’t heavy with the past. Who we are to our family is something that never changes, for the most part. But with these girls, I had the chance to be whoever I wanted to be.

I could hear the clinking and clanking of plates and silverware being set. Aunt Shayla lay in the Barcalounger watching Wheel of Fortune. She waved to me as I came in.

“Hey, girl.” She said, still watching Pat Sajak.

“Hey, Aunt Shayla. Been here long?” I said, sitting down on the sofa.

“Not too long. Your momma is actually making dinner tonight. Seems like maybe she’s turning over a new leaf.”

I nodded, “Maybe so.”

“Hopefully it lasts more than a couple days,” Aunt Shayla said. “Do anything fun today?”

I shrugged, not answering.

Grandma slowly ambled into the room. I scooted over so she could join me on the couch.

“Hey, angel,” Grandma said. As she sat down I could tell she was winded.

“Hey, you.” I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “You doing okay?”

“I am now. I was wondering when you’d be home. Have fun with Ryan?” she asked.

“Yep.” I grinned at her, “I had a milkshake at Juniper Jill’s.”

“Oh, now that’s some good stuff. You’re really getting acclimated to Rutledgeville life.”

We sat quietly and watched Vanna White turn tiles while my mother moved around in the kitchen.

“What’s for dinner anyway?” I asked as I leaned into Grandma’s bony shoulder.

“Chicken parm.” Grandma ran her hands through my hair, “She says it’s your favorite.”

“When we go out to eat, yes. I’ve never in my life eaten it at home though. This should be interesting.”

* * *

To my mother’s credit, it wasn’t terrible. All four of us sat in the dining room eating off of plates that had been sitting in Grandma’s china cabinet for probably a decade.

“I just thought it would be nice to actually use it.” Grandma said, “It’s silly that people spend so much money on something with a functional purpose that they just leave in a dusty cabinet.”

As we ate, my thoughts were elsewhere. Who was Bennett?

“So where’ve you been all day?” Mom asked, handing me a plate with crescent rolls on it.

I grabbed two and said, “I went with Ryan to help him with a yard. Mrs. Kent says hello by the way.”

Grandma nodded as she chewed, “Oh, yes! I love Helen. So sweet of you to help Ryan with her yard. It gets to be messy pretty fast.”

“Yep,” I said. “Then he took me to Juniper’s. I had an unfortunate run-in with a girl named Courtney Showalter.”

“Oh the Showalters. Her daddy is the football coach,” Aunt Shayla said, putting a heaping helping of chicken and pasta on her plate. “He has five kids. I think Courtney’s second to last. She’s a pistol.”

We kept eating. I wanted to wait for everyone to be close to finished before I told them about the rest of my afternoon.

As Mom started putting our plates in the sink to be washed, I took my moment.

“I also went to the cemetery.” I said. Grandma dropped her fork on her plate.

“You did?” Her voice was shaky, “Why didn’t you go with me?”

“You told me not to. And I saw that you guys had left the flowers I wanted to give Granddaddy so I had Rhiannon and McKenna take me.”

My mother was at the sink, leaning against the counter, her arms locked, elbow deep in dishwater and soap. I could see her left foot tapping nervously.

“It took a little bit to find him.” I continued, “But Rhiannon did and I paid my respects.”

Grandma nodded, “That’s very good. I’m sure he would love to know you were there. Next time I’ll go with you.”

“But there was something else,” I said. Aunt Shayla wasn’t eating anymore.

“McKenna left her purse so when I went back to grab it I noticed there was a small flat stone next to Granddaddy’s. Someone named Bennett who died about ten months before I was born.” The stillness in the room was unbelievable. I don’t think I had ever had such a captive audience.

“Anyway,” I said. “I noticed he had my same birthday, my same last name. But I have never heard his name uttered in this house. Never once. But this can’t be just a weird coincidence, right? So I thought I would ask you. Who is he?”

As soon as I stopped talking, a bellowing sob came from my mother. It chilled me to my core. It was the kind of painful cry I had heard the other night when my Aunt Shayla had begged me to talk to her.

“Mom?” I said. Grandma was standing up slowly, moving towards my mother who was having a complete nervous breakdown, her elbows covered in suds.

“Naomi,” Grandma’s voice shook. “It’s time, honey. It’s time to tell her.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” Her voice was trembling, her crying so hysterical I could barely make out what she was saying. I immediately wished I hadn’t said anything, that I had kept this secret to myself.

But there was no taking it back.

“Let’s take her to the living room.” Aunt Shayla was up and walked over to Mom. My mother, who had never given Aunt Shayla as much as a hug in front of me, collapsed into her large arms. She cried and shook and wouldn’t even look at me. I had seen my mother have her share of crying bouts, normally induced by alcohol, but this was completely different. It scared me.

“What the hell is happening?” I said. Grandma motioned for me to follow them.

“We’ll tell you everything,” Grandma assured me. “We have to get your mother calmed down. This is not an easy conversation.”

I was sick with anxiety as I settled myself on the sofa. Aunt Shayla put my mother in the recliner and Grandma sat down in the Barcalounger. One of them hit the remote to turn the television off. It had been playing Jeopardy.

My mother’s tears still fell but her sobs had quieted down after a few moments. She looked at Grandma and begged her, “Please. I can’t say it out loud. Tell her. Please, Momma.”

For the first time in my life I didn’t see my mother as my mom or Grandma as my grandma. I was reminded that before me they had only belonged to one another. That my Grandma would always be my mother’s Momma and that right now she needed Grandma to be stronger than she had the courage to be.

“Addie.” Grandma started, “Bennett was my son.”

My head throbbed. Her son?

“You never told me you had another child,” I said.

“No. I didn’t. There are things that happen in life that are too hard to speak of. But it wasn’t right that I didn’t talk about him because he’s as much a part of my heart as you are. Bennett was my youngest son. He was eleven years old when he died in a car accident.” Grandma paused for a moment, glancing at Mom who was shaking in her chair.

“Bennett was in a car with someone who had been drinking the night before. The driver was in a hurry to drop Bennett off at his baseball game and was very tired from being up late. It was an accident and the driver was fine but Bennett didn’t make it.” Grandma paused again, “The reason your mother is upset is because she was the driver.”

As soon as Grandma said it my mother was sobbing again, her cries shaking the entire house. I was chilled to the bone by this realization yet at the same time it was like a puzzle piece that had been missing my entire life. It was an absolutely tragic thing to learn but at the same time it also brought answers to so many questions I had held in for so long.

“When you were born, your mother didn’t want you to know what she had done. It ate her up inside to know she had lived while Bennett had died. Her survivor’s guilt has accomplished nothing other than making herself pay for an imaginary debt she thinks I hold against her.” Grandma spoke to my mother now, “But she forgets she is also my child. And though there isn’t a single hour I don’t think of Bennett, there’s also not a single hour I don’t thank God that I still have my daughter. And that all I want, before I leave this world, is for her to finally forgive herself because God and I forgave her a very long time ago.”

I was crying now thinking about how difficult all of this must have been for every single person in this room. But how upset I was that it had been hidden from me. Just like Grandma’s sickness had been hidden. Just like the identity of my father continued to be hidden. I was sick of the lies and the secrets. I was too old to keep the repression going. Suddenly I was sick to my stomach.

“I need to go.” I said, “I need somewhere to think. I need to get out of here.”

My mother wailed across the room, “I knew it. She’ll never look at me the same again. I wish I was dead. I’m tired of failing everyone. Now she’ll see me how both of you see me. She was the last one who didn’t know.”

This was too much. My hands shook.

“Grandma, please. I can’t do this. I need a place to breathe.”

She nodded and I bolted out the front door. I had no idea where I was going. I just knew I needed to be alone.

The Story Continues…

This is the beginning of a long journey for Addison McCurtis and her family. In my next book, we’ll see the ramifications of the McCurtis secret, the return of Rachel Lawson, and learn even more about McKenna, Rhiannon, and the rest of the residents of The Rut.

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Acknowledgments

First off, this book wouldn’t exist without Mechanicsville, Virginia. It’s my own Rut, a place I was always so ready to leave but one which I can look back now and be profoundly grateful for having grown up in. The friends I made there are still some of my best friends today. You’ve seen me at my best and at my most embarrassing. And yet you still love me anyway. We might not talk as much as we used to, but my love for all of you has never waned. So this is for Jamie Baughan, Sarah German, Becky Peyton, Marianne MacDougall, Jessica Weiss, Bryan Marshall, Whitney Beck, Sarah Butler and literally a hundred other people from my hometown. Thanks for the long car rides to nowhere, all the hours of listening to Q94 while discussing our futures, and just always showing up for me. And also, I know most of you have different last names now, but these are the names you will always be in my heart.