“Ah…” my mother starts. The judge waits for her response impatiently, and so do the rest of us.
“Are you willing to follow the necessary steps to get to see your kids again?” she presses.
My mother looks down, then turns to look towards the back of the room. Her gaze meets her sister’s then travels to me. “I don’t think…” she starts and although I think she’s talking to the judge, her eyes are still fixed on me.
The judge exhales loudly. “Could you speak more loudly and direct your response to me?”
My mom pries her eyes away from mine and turns towards the judge. “I don’t think I’m… I think they’d be better off staying with their aunt,” she answers and the small part of me that held onto the hope that my mother loved us—cared about us—disappears. When she says we’d be better off without her, I know she means she would be. She doesn’t even refer to Eve as her sister—just our aunt.
I stopped looking up to my mother for a very long time now. I just never thought I’d get as far as wishing she wasn’t my mother at all.
“Okay then, it’s final. Mrs. Lincoln—”
“Robertson,” I correct the judge. The court sheriff stares at me and I know it isn’t protocol to speak out of turn. To everyone in the room, I’m just an audience member, but I’m not. I’m waiting for the judge to determine what will happen to my brother and me. I’m waiting for her to determine what happens to the rest of my life.
“Pardon me, Ms. Robertson,” the judge corrects herself and signals for the sheriff to stand down. She continues, unbothered by my interruption. “I’m inclined to agree with the State in that you are not fit to be a parent. I will, therefore, award full custody of Aron Lincoln and Ethan Lincoln to their aunt, Eve Stephens. It is my sincere hope that you acknowledge the importance of family and take the necessary steps to rehabilitate yourself so that hopefully—one day—you can earn their forgiveness. I sentence you to sixty days of rehabilitation as an outpatient at the Butler Facility. I’ll warn you that you should take the program seriously. I don’t want to see you in my courtroom ever again. If I do, I will not be as lenient.”
I stand up, clearing my throat. “Can I have a moment with her?” I ask the judge. “Please?” In my periphery, I see the sheriff walking in my direction, but that doesn’t deter me.
Eve slips her hand into mine, giving it a squeeze. I smile down at her.
“I just want to say a few things to her,” I add.
I’m shocked when she says, “You have five minutes. Sheriff, bring him and the Defendant over to the jury deliberation room.”
I nod my thanks, and as I pass the bench, she says, “Five minutes, son.”
The sheriff ushers me into the deliberation room and another sheriff brings my mother along.
“We’ll be right outside the door,” one of the sheriffs says to me. I nod. This won’t take long.
With the door shut, it’s silent between us. My mom looks at me, her spirit broken.
“I’m—” she starts, but I hold my hand up to stop her. “No. You don’t get to speak now. I have something to say to you, and then we’re done. You…you’ve been playing on the edge for so long and I’ve kept trying to save you from falling. Yet the only one that ended up almost drowning was me.” My eyes are locked on hers, perhaps for the last time. “In an attempt to keep your head above the water, I found myself hitting rock bottom.”
I pause and take a deep breath. “I’m done trying to be your lifeguard. I can’t take on the role of being your parent too.”
A tear slides down her face, but I say what I need to before I lose the strength.
“You were supposed to be the parent. I was supposed to be the child—not the other way around. You had so many chances to change, to seek help. You could’ve turned your life around, for yourself, for us, but you turned each of them down.
“You were given a chance by a judge to get your children back. All you had to do was get clean, attend rehab—stay sober…” I laugh, because it’s the only thing I can do to stop myself from crying. I’m glad Ethan isn’t here to see this, to be scarred by this. “You decided it wasn’t worth it. You decided we weren’t worth it.”
She sobs audibly.
“Today, I’m giving up on you too. I’m choosing to save Ethan and I this time.”
Her shoulders begin to shake as she tries to hold in her tears. I want to comfort her because that’s my instinct, but I won’t. Instead, I straighten my spine, turn away, and walk out of the room.
12
Mom broke her promise. There’s no way I’m breaking mine
I stumble in the dark, searching for the keys Eve gave me two weeks ago. I put my hands in my pockets, emptying them. I hear the keys fall to the floor, so I bend down to start searching for them.
It’s dark outside.
Everything around me is spinning.
I don’t even remember what happened today.
I started at a new school a couple of weeks ago.
It’s weird being the new kid, but it’s not terrible. When the coach heard I’d played football for my old school, he asked me to join the team. The guys welcomed me so easily, deciding I needed to be inducted into the team properly. So after practice today, we partied.
We partied so hard I’m still on my hands and knees looking for my keys.
How the hell did I even get to Eve’s house in the first place?
Yes! I finally find my keys and stand up, wobbling slightly.
I must have had close to twenty shots. I don’t even recall what happened for most of the night.
After dropping the keys three different times, I finally get the door to open.
I walk in as quietly as possible, trying not to wake anyone up. I close the door slowly but it slams shut instead. I look up at the stairs, hoping no one’s heard it. I take a few steps in that direction, intending to go upstairs, but at the last second, I reroute into the kitchen for a glass of water.
After gulping it down, I return to the stairs, stumbling and tripping all the way up.
I pass Eve’s door, and then Ethan’s. I keep walking and just as I turn the knob on my bedroom door, I hear small steps coming in my direction.
“What are you doing?” Ethan asks me, rubbing his eyes.
I can’t believe I woke him up. “I was just getting some water.”
He frowns. “You’re drunk,” he says and his words sober me up instantly.
“I—I had a few drinks tonight,” I tell him. It breaks me to see the disappointment in his eyes.
“You’re turning into Mom,” he says and I feel like I’ve been punched in the face. “You think just because you’re older than me that I don’t realize what’s going on, but I know more than you think. And you’re turning into her now. I thought you were better than that. I thought you loved me more than that,” he says and I feel a tear slide down my face.
I can’t believe I allowed myself to get sucked down this hole. I’m reaching rock-bottom now. I’m becoming the monster I fought against so fiercely.
“I’m sorry,” I say, cringing to hear the words coming out of my mouth. That’s something else Mom used to say. I feel like a bucket of cold water has been thrown on me.
He comes closer to me and I sit on the floor. “You’re right,” I add.
“Why?” he asks, sitting down in front of me
“I was at a party,” I tell him.
He shakes his head. “This isn’t the first time,” he says, calling me out on it.
I thought no one had realized it.
I thought no one saw…
I thought I’d been successfully hiding it.
I take a deep breath and look at him in the eyes. “I think I was trying to cope with the change,” I tell him, and once again, I remind myself of our mother.
“That’s not a good way to cope,” he tells me, repeating the same words I told my mom.
I suddenly understand the meaning of self-loathing.
Is this how my m
other felt?
I nod. “You’re right. I promise you, I’ll never do it again.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your promise? Mom never did,” he says, and those words reveal more to me than he thinks. He knows more than I ever thought he did. Even with how much I tried, it seems I couldn’t shield him from it all.
“Because I’m your brother and I’ll always look out for you. I’ve never broken a promise I’ve made to you before, right?”
“Right,” he says.
“I won’t start now.” I look him in the eye when I say those words so he knows I mean it.
He nods, accepting what I’ve said like I did with Mom many times before. The only difference is, Mom broke her promise. There’s no way I’m breaking mine.
“Don’t beat yourself up too much,” Eve says, walking into the kitchen the next morning. She goes over to the fridge and pours herself a glass of orange juice then takes a seat in front of me.
“Did you hear?” I ask, putting the Tylenol in my mouth and taking a sip of my water to wash it down.
She nods. “I didn’t mean to. I woke up to…”
“The sound of me stumbling up the stairs,” I supply.
She takes a sip of her juice. “Well, yes. I wanted to make sure you were alright. I opened the door slightly and found your brother talking to you.”
“I didn’t see you,” I tell her. I’m ashamed she saw me like that too.
“I was going to come out and talk to you, but I think you needed to hear it from Ethan.”
I set my drink down. “I never wanted him to see me that way.”
“I know, sweetheart,” she says, reaching out and taking my hand. “But he was the only one who was going to get through to you.”
“I don’t know why I did it,” I tell her honestly.
She gets up from her chair and comes around the table, taking a seat beside me. Touching my shoulder, she says, “I know why.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been taking care of your brother, and even your mom, for the last couple of years. From what I heard about her boyfriend,” she says, and I flinch at the reminder of him, “he wasn’t the best guy either. I’m sure you had to deal with a lot from him too.”
I nod, and she continues, “You never had a chance to rebel. You never got to yell back at her. You never got to act out because you had to look out for Ethan. I think when you got the chance to finally fight back, you did.”
“By getting drunk?” I ask, mad at myself.
“By getting so drunk you’d forget you’re hurting,” she says and it makes sense. It also makes me understand a little of why Mom did drugs. I guess she wanted to forget too.
That didn’t make it right though.
“That’s not a good enough reason.”
“No, it’s not. If you do it again, you may force me to ground you,” she says, laughing.
I look at her, not quite smiling. “That’d be a first…”
“I don’t think I have to resort to that because I don’t think you’ll do it again.”
“I won’t.”
She nods, resolute. “A drink here and there is fine. Just don’t use alcohol to cope with your emotions—or drugs either. It didn’t work for your mom.”
“And it won’t work for me either. You don’t have to worry. I won’t do it again.”
“Good. Now, breakfast?”
I nod. “Need some help?”
She smiles broadly. “I’d love some.”
Together, we make pancakes, eggs, and bacon. A few minutes later, Ethan runs down the stairs. He appears at the kitchen door, climbing up onto one of the stools at the counter.
“It smells so good!” he says, taking one of the pieces of bacon from the plate.
“Hey, wait for us!” Eve says.
“Sorry!” he smiles at her as he takes a bite of bacon.
“The rest is ready! Let’s all sit and eat,” I announce.
Eve places the large plate of pancakes on the table and I grab the eggs, setting them beside the other plate. I grab the juice from the fridge and cups from a cabinet, setting one in front of Ethan and I pour him a drink.
“Hey, buddy, I just wanted to say sorry again. I wasn’t the kind of person I should’ve been last night. It won’t happen again.” I don’t want to pretend last night didn’t happen. I just want to make sure he knows it was the last time.
“I know it won’t. People make mistakes, Aron. Mom made some, I know that too. And one day, she’ll come back and we’ll forgive her,” he says, filling his plate with food.
“Right,” I reply.
“Oh, I have a surprise for both of you!” Aunt Eve says, jumping up from her seat. We both look at her, wondering what’s got her so excited. “Well, don’t just stand there, come on!” she says, urging us to follow her.
We walk over to the door that leads to the garage. She opens it and we look inside.
There are two cars—hers and then another one so covered in dust, it’d take a few hours to clean it by hand.
“Ta-da!” she screams excitedly.
“Do you need us to wash that?” Ethan asks and we both laugh.
“No, silly! This car is for Aron. I know you used an old one when you lived at home and, well, you have to get to and from school.”
I stare at her, my mouth hanging open.
I feel Ethan tug at my shirt and I look down to see him staring at me with huge eyes. “What’s up?” I ask.
“Do you think she got me a car too?” he says, sounding as hopeful as ever. Eve and I laugh.
“No, I didn’t get you a car too. But I thought maybe you and Aron could share this one? He could use it to take you to school every once in a while, when he doesn’t have football practice. He could even take you out for ice cream!” she says and Ethan’s eyes light up at the idea.
“Are you sure?” I ask, still unable to believe she’d do this for us.
“Yes. It’s been in here for a couple of years now, collecting dust. I think you boys can put it to good use.”
I walk towards her and give her a hug. She tenses up briefly and I know she’s as surprised as I am at the gesture. Then she hugs me back.
“I’m so happy you boys are with me,” she says, her voice breaking. “I know it wasn’t an ideal situation but I’m happy you’re here.”
Ethan wraps his small arms around us. “We’re glad to be here with you, Aunt Eve,” he says.
“You’re family,” I tell her, and I mean it. She may not have been someone we grew up with, or got to see every day, but when things got tough, she showed up. She didn’t question it. She didn’t make up excuses. Instead, she opened her home to us—she opened her heart.
The least we can do is open ours.
Epilogue
She matters to me.
It’s a new year and things are looking well. We haven’t heard anything from our mother, but I think that’s for the better. We’re starting to develop a new routine, Ethan’s making new friends, and things are good. We’re happy. If anyone had asked me last year if I thought things could turn out this way—the answer would’ve been no.
But Ethan and I were given a second chance. Eve has filled the role of loving parent in just a few months—something my mother failed at for years.
My new school isn’t so bad either. Football has been my refuge from all the changes in my life and I’m taking full advantage of every opportunity. Eve wants me to go to college too—it’s not something I’ve allowed myself to think about too much, but it’s in the back of my mind.
Tonight, is yet another first. I’m at the homecoming dance—not because I want to, but because as the quarterback of the team, I’m obligated to. I’m also here at Eve’s insistence. The ability to start over is not one many people get, and I’d be an idiot to give up on it.
I pull into the student lot, parking my car next to the same motorcycle I normally do, surprised to see it here in the first place. I didn’t think she was the kind of girl to come t
o the homecoming dance. Seeing Dimah every morning has become my daily routine. Maybe one day, I can actually get her to remove her headphones and talk to me.
I walk the short distance to the gymnasium, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of my sports jacket. Unfortunately, it’s a requirement of homecoming for football players.
Letting myself into the gym, I find streamers and banners everywhere.
I walk towards one of the tables and pour myself a cup of punch. I take a sip, spitting it back into the cup. It’s been spiked and not even with good alcohol.
I opt for a water bottle instead and stand awkwardly at the side of the room, scanning it. I don’t realize I’m searching for something until I find it. She stands across the room from me, shadowed and invisible. She’s wearing ripped dark jeans and a black sweatshirt, completely different from all the dresses and skirts every other girl is wearing.
She looks around the room then back down at her feet. My gaze is forced away from Dimah when a group of girls come to stand directly in front of me. I look at them expectantly, waiting to see what they want.
“Hey, Aron,” one of them says with a sultry smile.
“Hi,” I respond.
“You look great!” another one adds.
“Thanks.”
One of them—one of the cheerleaders—steps into the line of my body, resting her hand on my chest. “If you ever need anything, let me know,” she says with a wink.
When I don’t say anything in response, the group takes their cue to leave. In less than a year, I think I’ve become a different person. I’m wholly focused on getting through high school, going to college, and providing for my brother.
I don’t need girls to distract me. I don’t need alcohol to drown out my thoughts—my memories. I just need to work hard and take the good with the bad.
Not the Same (Not Alone Novellas Book 2) Page 5
