by Maya Hughes
I could let it pass. I could let it pass by like saying hi or bye to a friend, but I needed her to know. Tucking the hair behind her ear, I rubbed my thumb along the underside of her chin and held her gaze.
“Love you, love you. I love you, Marisa.”
She stiffened, staring back at me like this wasn’t inevitable. Like it wasn’t impossible not to.
“And I have all kinds of plans for us once I get back from Chicago and once I’m drafted. Plans that include you.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, she burrowed deeper against my side and hugged herself tight to me.
All the ideas about what happened after graduation had been mine. She’d been focused on right now. But I needed her to know we weren’t over after graduation. What if her plans with me ended when we walked across that stage?
25
Marisa
LJ had been weird all day before he left. He’d professed his love for me, not we’ve-known-each-other love, but the kind that reached deep down into me and touched a scary place where future plans were made and expectations were set.
This was the no-man’s land I’d tried to stay away from all my life. The land mines set there had a way of blowing up huge. I’d wanted to tell him how much I loved him too, how I couldn’t wait for us to go through with all the crazy plans he kept throwing out there, but the words stalled in my throat.
We still needed to go slowly, and his life would be changing in ways he couldn’t imagine in the next three months. It was better to leave some things left unsaid, some protections still in place. It was better to have an escape hatch.
The whole day before he left, he was quiet. He’d talked to his mom early in the morning and had gone out for a walk. He didn’t even make fun of the sandwiches I’d made us for lunch. And he’d gone to bed early, which made sense.
His flight for Chicago had left at 5am, along with Berk, Keyton, Ron, and other guys from the team. But there hadn’t been any stolen kisses, touches, or even looks all day.
Worry wound deeper in my stomach. This whole time I’d been preparing myself for the end, but I wasn’t ready yet. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready. And it scared me. Shook me to my core how hard it would be to leave him or worse, watch him walk away.
The mid-day phone call while I’d been studying for finals hadn’t helped soothe my anxiety. A drive across the bridge sent my body into shoulder-tight, hands-clenched, lock-jaw stress mode. I parked in the hospital lot, breathing deeply before psyching myself up to go inside.
The pungent smell of antiseptic was miles away from the curation room in the museum. This wasn’t just clean. It was ‘pour a bucket of bleach on top of everything and scrub it down’ clean.
A stocky nurse who looked like she hadn’t left the hospital in days worked efficiently, looking up the information for my mom. “Your mom has been transferred to one of the clinic rooms. They should be finished with her brace. It was a clean break, so no surgery is needed. Room five down that hall.” She pointed behind her.
“Thank you.” It had taken two calls from the hospital to get me here. Part of me had been expecting the worst when I picked up. The worst part was, I didn’t know if I was relieved or not when they said she’d fallen and broken her leg.
Outside her room, I psyched myself up to go inside. I took deep breaths, but not so deep that the cleaning products burned my nose. Armor up. After almost two months without hearing from her, I had to remember and anticipate exactly how she’d needle her way under my skin.
It was already thinner than normal.
“My daughter will be here soon. Could you be a dear and see if the doctor might prescribe me some more meds before she gets here.”
“Ma’am—”
“Mom, I’m here.”
This gave the nurse enough time to escape to the door. “The doctor will be here with your discharge orders in a few minutes.”
She sat on the hospital bed looking like she’d been on her way to a night on the town. Or maybe she’d been coming home. “It’s about time you got here. I’ve been waiting forever.”
“What happened?”
“Stupid Eddie had to go home and see his wife, so I was home all by myself. I tried to get my hands on the spices in the cabinet by the stove.”
Spices—aka, the booze stash.
“I slipped and here I am.” Her hands shot out in a voila to her leg in the brace.
For a long time, I’d waited for a phone call to say she’d had an accident, hooked up with the wrong guy and ended up hurt, or done something else to end her run of luck when it came to booze and guys. Getting out of the hospital with nothing more than a bum leg was a minor miracle.
“Let’s get you home. Do you have food?”
“Of course, I have food.”
“Edible food?”
“You were always such a picky eater.”
Water off a duck’s back.
An orderly showed up with a wheel chair.
Despite all her grumbling and complaining, we got her into the chair. Her twenty-pound purse sat on her lap.
I picked up the rest of her things in the room and shoved them into her bag. “Ready to go?”
“Why are you rushing me? You have somewhere better to be?”
Anywhere. Literally anywhere.
I shouldn’t have come. When the hospital said I’d been listed as my mom’s emergency contact, I should’ve told them they had the wrong number.
Instead, whatever remnants of daughterly obligations existed in me were tapped into by the censure in the hospital worker’s voice when I’d asked about other ways she could get home.
My goal was simple. In and out.
“I’ve got to study. Midterms are coming up. LJ’s in Chicago for the combine today and I need to get home by three to watch it.”
“You barely stop by for Christmas, don’t even give me a call for New Year’s and now you’re rushing me out of the hospital.”
I’d avoided her almost all of winter break and hadn’t gotten even the hint that she wanted me to show up beyond a slurred call at 11pm on New Year’s Eve. I guess that boyfriend of hers with the kids wasn’t around anymore. Good for him.
I stopped by the nurse’s station for instructions on what to do next.
“The discharge papers are almost ready. You can wheel her out to the front of the hospital, pick up her prescriptions and then get your car and pick her up.”
“Does she need them?” Mixing alcohol and pills was never a good idea. “Some of her other medication…”
The nurse flipped through her chart. “She didn’t mention anything, but the prescription is for extra strength ibuprofen. The risk of interactions would be minimal, but I can double check, if you give me the names.”
“No, that’s fine. We’ll be okay.” Relief that she hadn’t been proscribed something stronger pushed some of the worries away. If she stepped up her addiction to real pills, the next call I got might not be so innocuous.
The discharge nurse walked me through the rest of the forms I needed to fill out.
An orderly pushed my mom’s wheelchair. Her foot rested on the foot rest in a brace. Arrows and signs pointed toward the pharmacy.
“I can get her pain meds and meet you out front.” The man nodded and pushed her in the opposite direction.
One person stood in line at the window. At least this wouldn’t take too long.
My muscles were wound tight, there was a faint throb at the front of my head, and my stomach was clenched like I was preparing for a blow. Never again.
Italy looked even better with each day. I still hadn’t talked to LJ about it. Like an escape pod I’d tucked away in case things went bad, but also because I couldn’t give it up just yet. I’d dreamt about wandering the city and the country since I was little, like a princess locked in a tower, only mine had been built of glass bottles. One summer hadn’t been enough to scratch the surface, but leaving…what happened if I left?
The last t
ime LJ had told me he loved me, it had scared me. Those were the kind of words you couldn’t walk away from. They were the kind that meant promises, and I’d been let down and left behind so many times before it made it hard to believe they could be true.
And that they would remain true. What the hell did forever even mean? I could barely think past graduation.
“Marisa?” A familiar voice broke through my insecurity spiral.
“Jill.” Like a ray of sunshine breaking through clouds hanging over me, she walked up and hugged me.
“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Her smile was warm, but eyes creased with concern.
“It’s my mom.” Who I don’t want anywhere near you. The meetings between LJ’s family and my mom had always been cringe city with me finding any way possible to make a quick exit for us both. “She hurt her leg.”
Charlie walked up behind Jill. “Hey, Marisa.” His hug was strong and comfortable, fatherly. The closest to one I’d ever had. The closest to one I’d ever have. Letting him go, a jab of sadness knocked into my stomach.
Jill’s eyes widened, looking past me. “Terri, what happened?”
I turned, and sure enough, the orderly was pushing my mom toward us. No. No. No. I needed to go.
Misery was written all over the orderly’s face. Who knows what she’d done to badger him into finding out what was taking me so long after the five whole minutes she’d had to wait while I filled her prescription.
My muscles, which had thawed a few degrees, were right back to ice solid.
“Tripped while rescuing orphans from a burning building.” My mom’s sarcastic tone dripped with an attitude she always had around anyone she assessed to be even remotely nicer, happier, friendlier than her, so everyone.
Jill let out a startled laugh. This time I did see a different smile from her. It was thin and reedy, polite and appropriate, but nothing like the one she’d given me. “Sorry to hear about your leg.”
My mom opened her mouth, but I cut her off, not wanting her to set her sights on landing a dig in no matter what.
“Is everything okay?” I looked between them. The anxiety knot in my chest doubled turning into dread.
Jill tugged at her earlobe. “We’re here for another round of tests after Charlie’s six-month check-up. There were some issues with the last one. Some were inconclusive, so they wanted to do a few more to double check.” Uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
My vision tunneled. “More tests?”
The last time had been so hard on Charlie and Jill. They’d both been so strong, trying to keep their family’s heads above water while dealing with so much. He’d been so frail and pale, pain etched in every gaunt line while he tried to keep a brave face. The dread pit deepened, sending sharp spurs into my stomach.
“Does LJ know?” All moisture was sucked out of my mouth.
He’d freak out. The first time his dad was sick, he’d found me on the bleachers between third and fourth period in tenth grade, laid his head in my lap and broke down. The tears didn’t stop for a long time, but I’d been there for him. I braced myself for needing to be the strong one again.
“I let him know yesterday. With him flying to Chicago, I didn’t want to, but he’d made me promise to always let him know when we were going in for a visit.”
My head was woozy and light-headed. His quiet detachment before getting on the plane. I’d chalked it up to nerves about performing in front of every pro scout in the country up against all the top players from every other team. But now…
“I hope everything will be okay.”
Her gaze brightened and she straightened her shoulders. “I’m sure it will. Don’t worry about it. I’ll leave you two, so you can get your mom home.”
His distance. The worry, but he hadn’t said a word. He hadn’t told me. Why wouldn’t he have said something? I’d always been there for him before, and he’d kept it to himself. The spiral sped faster. The rails were coming off.
“Let me know if you need anything, Jill.”
She patted my shoulder and nodded.
All those plans he’d made had probably entailed the Marisa Magic lasting. If something happened to Charlie, would he even want me around? Would I be cast out? How would he even be able to look at me again? I mustered up a numb-lipped smile and cleared my throat.
The fact that I was even feeling sorry for myself shifted my worries to disgust with myself.
I wanted to stay. I wanted to be there with them and make them laugh and joke while they waited. I wanted to not have to spend another minute with my mother.
I walked alongside my mom while the orderly pushed her to the curb.
“Wow, you’re really getting in there deep, aren’t you? Offering up help without a grumble or someone even needing to ask. How many times did they have to call to get you to come?”
My jaw ached. “Stop it.”
“What?” She feigned innocence, complete with big wide eyes and fingertips splayed on her chest.
I left her at the front of the hospital and went to the short-term parking lot to pick up LJ’s car. Part of me wanted to keep going straight onto the highway, instead of pulling around to the front of the hospital.
At the entrance, there were moms cradling new babies, people on crutches, and my mom sitting in a wheelchair in her cast, radiating bitter drunkenness.
Waiting to pull into an empty spot, I tapped out a message to LJ.
Me: Good luck today. Thinking about you. I’ll be watching at 3!
The text bubble popped up, indicating he was typing, and just as quickly disappeared.
My throat tightened, legs wobbled and my heart squeezed like someone had gripped it tight, twisting to test the integrity. Failure was imminent.
After helping her into the car, I stopped off at the grocery store and bought her enough lunch meat and bread to last a week. It took longer than I’d hoped, and the countdown to three got even closer. I’d planned on watching it at home alone where no one else would be bothered by my shouting. I definitely hadn’t planned to watch with my mom.
Every mile on the road in LJ’s car, my head was a maelstrom of anxiety. I compulsively checked my phone at every red light, but the phantom buzz came up empty every time.
Walking into my mom’s house—I couldn’t call it mine anymore—felt as weird as it had when I’d stopped by on Christmas Eve. It looked and smelled the same, but it wasn’t home. I had no home.
I unpacked the groceries, flinging boxes and packages on the counters to put them away quickly. My ears buzzed, panic-inducing thoughts swirling in my head.
“This is what you get for me?” On crutches, she hobbled into the kitchen.
I shoved the food into her barren fridge. Half-empty bottle of olives and room service ketchup bottles rolled around on the shelves. “Sorry, let me move this prime rib and Caesar salad aside to make room for the groceries I paid for with my own money.”
“I’m not in elementary school. What’s with all the lunch meat?”
“It’s better than what you left me with growing up.” I snapped, inching closer to the edge.
A dismissive snort was her only reply. “You were fine. All you had to do was run to LJ’s house and everything would be taken care of.”
The muscles in my neck tensed, anger seeping into my veins and ears ringing. I slammed the fridge shut, contents rattling inside. “Maybe I wanted my mother to take care of me.”
“You were more than capable.” Another blow-off.
“I was a child.”
“Your father went off and lived his life, doing whatever the hell he wanted. Why shouldn’t I have been able to do the same thing?”
Bringing up these old feelings was picking at the oozing stitches I’d pretended were fully healed. “Sorry I was such an inconvenience.”
“No need to be dramatic.”
My cheeks heated. What was the point of trying to change anything about her? “Do you need anything else before I go?”
&n
bsp; Her voice softened. “You’re leaving already? We’ve barely had a chance to talk.”
I bit my tongue so the ‘why the hell would I want to stay?’ and a reminder of how much convincing it had taken to get me here didn’t fly out of my mouth.
Laundry loaded, a bed made up on the living room couch, and an elementary school sandwich later, she’d exhausted every possible way to keep me in the house.
Checking the time, I wouldn’t make it back to the house before the combine. Shit.
Leaving my mom in the kitchen, I walked to the living room and flicked on the TV and sat on the coffee table.
Commentary was layered over the distant sounds of the nearly empty stadium where players lined up for drills, sprints and showing off all their skills and power to the teams watching.
“Up next, we have the linebackers. There’s a lot of talent, and of course the competition is always fierce.”
Eight other guys went through the motions, their names and times flashing on the bottom of the screen.
My mom rattled around the house, clinking bottles and grumbling. If she fell trying to get a drink, I’d be tempted to leave her.
LJ’s name flashed up on the screen. Even with the dark cloud hanging over my head right now, pride flared in my chest seeing that and hearing the announcers go over all he’d done in the past four seasons. Normally, I’d be jumping up and down and cheering at the screen. I wanted this so badly for him, more than I’d ever wanted anything for me. Because I loved him.
I gripped the edge of the table and held my breath.
The drills began like they had for the other players. His times flashed onto the screen, compared to the other guys. He wasn’t first in any, but he was consistently in the top three, while other guys bounced around in the rankings.
A final shrill whistle and he finished. He jogged to the sidelines with sweat pouring down his face. Winded and intense, he stepped up next to the sideline reporter like all the other players before him.
Although I could see him on the screen, I still checked my phone like he’d message me at this exact moment.
