by Jolene Perry
“I’m decided, Mom.” And feeling lighter the more I think about my decision.
“And if I’d been a better mother, we would have talked and I wouldn’t have made a mess and underestimated you. I’m sorry.”
“And Ben?” I ask because she opened the door to talk about guys, so I’m keeping it open.
“And Ben…” Mom lets out a sigh. “I haven’t dated since your father died. I loved your dad so much, and it felt too wrong to even look at anyone else—especially living with Gramps. I ran into Ben on my way home from work and, for the first time in years, I felt good. Pretty. Like a woman again. And then the guilt kept me up all night. It felt like I was cheating on your father, even though he’s been gone for years. I wanted to tell you, Pen. But I couldn’t. I felt guilty, and I knew if you didn’t approve that I’d walk away. After taking care of you and Gramps, there was finally someone who wanted to take care of me. Who wanted to see me. To talk to me. To spend time with me. I was terrified of losing that.”
We should have talked because Mom and I share a lot more than either of us realized. “That’s what Bishop did for me.”
She takes a long, slow breath, and I know her well enough to know she’s considering what I’ve said but hasn’t totally converted yet. “I hate what I’ve done to us. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, though. I was scared, but the longer I kept quiet about Ben, the harder it was. I swear to you, I’d do it differently, but it was something that I wanted to be just mine for a while. Does that make any sense?”
“A little.” I slide a bit lower down. “I miss him.”
“Who?” she asks. “Bishop?”
“Both of them.”
We drive in silence for a few more minutes. “You know Gramps would have rather died like this than as a crazy man strapped to a bed somewhere.”
“I don’t think they do that anymore, Mom.” I almost laugh, even though I’m too heavy for laughing.
“Probably not.” Something like a smile plays on the edges of her mouth.
Since the mood is finally lightened in the car, and I’m smart enough to want to keep it that way, I have the perfect thing for our drive home. “Jeremy is working McDonald’s this afternoon.”
“Sounds good.” Mom chuckles. “I do want you to meet Ben.”
“Mom. Small town. I know Ben. He’s nice. I like him. I just—”
“You don’t like that I didn’t tell you.” She steals a glance my way to gauge my reaction.
“Yes.”
She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “I won’t do that again. I promise.”
More than it ever has, it feels like we’ll be good. “Okay.”
Again, we drive in silence. Mom and I have never been great at the emotional stuff. “If you need to talk about Bishop or anything else, you know you can come to me, right?”
“Not at all ready for that.” I stare out the window. “And I’m trying not to wonder if things would be different if you hadn’t pushed him away.”
A few moments pass before Mom answers. “Fair enough.”
And we’re not perfect, but we’re better. Mom and I need to learn how to be without Gramps around as our buffer. I just have no idea what’s next for me. If I’ll be able to play hockey, if I’m going to college, if I’m ever going to talk to Bishop again.
Chapter Twenty-five
BISHOP
SIXTY DAYS LATER
Dear Penny,
I feel like an ass for writing this. It’s such an easy way out. I’m pretty sure if I would’ve written you before…everything, I never would’ve heard the end of it. You would have talked shit, and then I would have kicked your ass on the snowmachines to show you how cool I am.
This isn’t a few months ago, though, is it? I’d be surprised if you’re even still reading this. You’ve been known to have a bit of a temper, ya know?
I’m sorry it took so long for me to write. Sorry I screwed up so badly. Sorry I lied. But most of all, I’m sorry about Gramps. Sorry he’s gone and I couldn’t save him. That I couldn’t hold you while you cried. Wiped your tears in a way you never would have wanted someone to do, except after something that huge. It kills me that I walked out on you—just left without a word, but that’s because of me, okay? Not you. And I didn’t want to leave you, but I needed to get well. Remember that.
God, I miss him. I can’t imagine how you feel without him. He was so cool… I loved him. He knew everything about me, and he still loved me and thought I was something special. Gramps was special.
You’re a lot like him. Not sure if I ever told you that.
I seriously hate doing this through e-mail. I deserve having to face you in person, to admit what I did. To actually see how much I disappointed you.
That’s not going to happen, though, so I’ll say it now. I started taking pills because I couldn’t handle the crowds. Couldn’t deal with being on the road. After that, it escalated until I couldn’t stop.
My mom and manager sent me to Alaska when I almost OD’d. I didn’t get it. It took you, Gramps, and even Gary to start to make me see. It wasn’t enough, though. What did it was hearing about your dad. Someone like me took your father away from you. Then I realized I was an addict and a coward.
It doesn’t excuse shit, but I want you to know I planned to tell you. After the game, I was going to come clean and then leave for rehab. It didn’t go down like that, though.
The night we lost Gramps…the night YOU lost Gramps, I lost it. All I could think about was you being hurt and Gramps being gone, and I downed a bunch of pills.
Fuck, it’s embarrassing to even admit that. While you were in the hospital and Gramps was dying, I had to get high. I’ve never hated myself as much as I did then.
I don’t know what you know, or what you want to know, but I’ve been in rehab ever since. I went straight to the airport. Got off the plane and went straight to rehab. Not like that makes anything better, but it’s true.
So yeah, that’s all. Today’s my last day, and I wanted you to know that I’m sorry. For the lies, drugs, not being what you needed, Gramps, everything.
Hopefully, one day, I’ll deserve everything you guys gave me.
Kick ass out there on the ice. Show those guys Lucky Penny can take them all. I know whatever your injury was, it won’t hold you back.
Love,
Bishop
PS… When Gary and I used to walk, we used that time to talk. He told me about making schedules, so I now I have one. Every day, I’m going to work on my Ranchero—to fix her up. I’ve wanted to do that for so long but never took the time. I will now. And don’t laugh at this next one, but I’m also getting a snowmachine. I already picked it out online. She’s all white like the snow—gorgeous. Mom thinks I’m crazy, but I know you’ll understand.
I hit send on the email as there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” I call, knowing its Mom. She’s the only one who’s come to see me since I’ve been here. The only one I’ve wanted to see.
“Hey, sweetie. Are you excited to go home today?” She’s smiling as she sits next to me, but I can tell she’s nervous. Makes sense. I’m not sure if I would trust me, either. I feel good, though. Better than I remember feeling in a long-ass time. It’s kind of like Gary said, I’m going back to when things were simple, going to hold on to the things that matter—the things that ground me. I know there’s a lot to deal with. A long road ahead of me, but I actually think I might be looking forward to it.
“I don’t know if excited is the right word, but I think I’m ready.”
Mom’s wearing her hair in a loose ponytail like always and a pair of jeans. She smiles at me before leaning forward to put a hand on my knee. Instead, I pull her into a hug. Struggling, I try to remember the last time I hugged my own mom. God, I was so screwed up.
Mom’s shoulders start to shake, and I know she’s crying. The sniffles start, and I hold her tighter. “I’m sorry, Ma… I can’t believe everything I put you through. I’m so sorry.”
�
��It’s okay,” she tries to tell me, but I shake my head.
“It’s not okay. None of it. You protected me. Gave me everything. Let me follow my dream, and I wasn’t man enough to handle it. And I took it out on you… Not letting you go with me to Alaska? God, I can’t believe that.”
“It was me.” She holds my hand. “Who insisted you go… Or do something. I wanted rehab, but I knew you’d never go for it. I’m the one who pushed Don to give you the ultimatum.”
Wow… I didn’t see that coming. “Thanks. For doing that. I probably wouldn’t have…yeah, I might not be here if you hadn’t.”
She cries harder. We sit like that for a long time. Finally she pulls away. Her nails are still the same shade of pink as always. She wipes her eyes. Smiles at me. “I love you, Bishop. I’ll always love you. And I’m looking forward to your future. I know who you are, and that other guy? He wasn’t you. I can’t wait to watch you shine.”
I hug her again. Tell her thank you and that I refuse to screw up this time. I want to be the person she thinks I am. The person I want to be.
She tells me she loves me again, and I know we’re okay. It’s only the start, though. I’m going to keep proving myself. For mom, Penny, Gramps…for me.
“You ready to get out of here?” I’m going home with her instead of my old house. I don’t want anything to do with the guy who lived there.
…
The last thing I ever would have thought I would say is that I actually kind of enjoy going to my meetings. Maybe enjoy isn’t the right word, but I don’t dread them, either. There hasn’t been one I’ve missed. It’s crazy what realizing you aren’t alone can do. I was a druggie and screwed-up. Screwed-up a lot, but it doesn’t define me, and I’m not the only one.
Talking with people, I see that my dad could have been responsible for some of my anxiety, too.
My car gets a lot of my attention. It’s my own form of Troy’s trees.
When I need to be alone, I walk. Sometimes with Gary, sometimes not. Troy and I have even started working out together. Even though I shouldn’t, I can’t help but wonder what Penny would say if she saw how ripped I am now.
I send her emails, but they’re usually just little things here and there. It took her a while to answer my first one—not that I blame her, she did because she’s strong like that. And like I knew she would, she’s going to school in Alaska. She’ll kick those guys’ asses.
There’s a cab waiting for me outside my meeting. After waving bye to my sponsor, I get in the car and give him the address to my old house. Mom is there when I arrive, waiting on the porch. It’s the first time I’ve been here since I came back to L.A.
“She’s running late. She said she’ll be here in about ten minutes. It won’t take long to sign the papers, though.” Mom stands from where she’d been sitting on the steps.
“Okay.” Staring at the house, something hits me. It wasn’t this place I should be scared of, it’s the old me. Maybe this house, saying goodbye to it, is another way to say goodbye to the old Bishop.
My hands don’t even shake as I unlock the door. It’s empty. Mom took care of that for me.
And…it’s only a house. Yeah, it’s the place I’ve done a lot of drugs and other things I shouldn’t have, but that’s all it is.
“You okay?” Mom’s arm slides through mine.
“Better than okay.”
She gives me a small squeeze. “Yeah, I think you are. This is a big step, though, Bishop. Not just the house, but everything. Are you sure it’s what you want? You’re really sure about this?”
Turning toward her, I smile. “More than sure.” And it’s true. So incredibly true.
Chapter Twenty-six
PENNY
Mom and Ben drop me off at the motocross track on my way home from physical therapy. If I’m careful, I’ll be playing hockey for UAF in just a few months, practicing with the team in a few weeks.
“Penny!” Chomps jumps off his bike. “You know the rules.”
My body tenses, preparing to fight them off. “Oh. No.” I hold my finger up in warning. “Don’t you dare. I wore a skirt as a show that I’m not going to try to ride.”
“Help me with the cripple!” he yells, and in seconds four guys have me in a lock as they duct tape my right arm to my side, wrapping the stuff around me at least four times.
I’m laughing so hard my sides hurt as I try to kick them away. “You assholes!” I yell.
Mitch smirks as he throws his arm over Becca’s shoulder. “Can’t have that arm getting hurt.”
“Seriously?” I widen my eyes and stare down at the tape crisscrossing around my middle. “The stuff hurts my arm hairs, and this shit is getting old.”
Only I’m snorting as I try to keep a straight face, and the guys are still laughing and putting their helmets on for a few more laps.
“Come sit.” Becca moves toward the stands, and I follow her with my stupid arm taped to my side. I wonder what my physical therapist would say about this.
I itch to get on my bike as they tear up the track. Chomps is being sloppy today, and I know I’d kick his ass. “I hate being on the sidelines.” I growl as I sit while wearing one of the many outfits Becca made me get before she agreed we should be roommates. Actually, I think she said we were going to be roommates, but not until I started dressing like a girl instead of a jock.
“You look hot, Penny Jones. I’m impressed.” She giggles as she takes another sip of her Diet Coke.
“Yeah, well…” And it’s not as weird as I would have thought. I get glances no matter what—being as tall as I am with white-blond hair does that. And anyway, I like the skirts. Fuel for my ego at the very least.
“Go University of Alaska! The school I can afford!” she fake cheers.
“And Mitch is cool with you not following him to Washington?” I ask.
She shrugs, keeping her gaze on him as he runs the track. “He’s not paying my tuition.”
“Right.” But they’re solid. I know they are. I’ve seen the way they stare at each other, and just thinking about it makes me miss Bishop in a way I wish I didn’t.
Becca sits back, and then nerves settle into my stomach as I try to pick out the end of the duct tape to unroll myself and know I’m about to tell her about him. I’m seriously trembling all over, which is crazy because it’s just a few emails. Everything still feels so raw and fresh, even though it’s been more than three months. “Bishop wrote me.” I cough a few times trying to push out the words. “Well, a few times…” This is so strange, having another girl to talk to about this stuff. Kind of cool, too. “Actually, one long email and then every few days he sends something else.”
“Holy shit.” She sits up so fast her feet slap on the old wood. “Why didn’t you say anything? Have you written back?”
I slide my foot across the bleachers, staring down. “Wasn’t sure how to talk about it yet.” His words have been rattling around in my head for weeks.
“Have you written back? Like…are you two conversing?” She leans in, eyes filled with excitement.
All his words hit me again like punches to the chest. “He went to rehab. Told me everything. Hated how he left things… It took me a while to answer. Like two weeks. But we’ve been writing. A little.”
Becca sips her Diet Coke, still staring, waiting for more story.
“I don’t know what we are.” I set my feet on the bench in front of me just for something to do. Mostly his letters make me hate him and miss him all at once. I don’t know what to do with so much emotion.
She pokes my side. “Look at you. You’re all affected.”
I finally find the end of the tape and start to tug. Anything to keep my hands busy while we’re talking about things I don’t know how to talk about. “Shut up and help me with the duct tape, would you?”
Becca’s grin is completely giddy. “He’s writing you. You’re writing back. You’re so sunk.”
I stand up and turn as she continues to pull on t
he tape, wincing every time we go over my bare arm. Assholes. Seriously. “Nope. Not sunk. I’m actually not going to complain about you dressing me because I need a normal boyfriend at college, not someone who makes me crazy.”
She scoffs. “Whatever, Penny. We leave in a week, and you’re obviously still in love with him.”
I freeze. Am I?
Chapter Twenty-seven
BISHOP
“Thanks for meeting with me, you guys.” I look at Don sitting behind his desk. The rest of my bandmates are in chairs, but I’m standing by the door. I think they’ve known this was coming. I knew it was coming, and I thought it would be harder. Being in a band was always my dream, and I’m not stupid enough to think I won’t miss it, but leaving is what I need. It’s what’s best for me.
“No problem, B.R.” Blake says. He’s the only one besides Don who might get my decision. The only one who comes over to jam with me for no reason. That’s cool. There’ve been enough fake people in my life. I’m ready for real.
Twirling my drumsticks between my fingers, I start to talk. “I’m out, you guys. I know it’s shitty timing, but I also know Don’s smart enough to have a backup plan.” When I look at him again, I get a nod. “I can’t do it anymore.”
“Seriously?” Chase, our guitarist, spits out. “When you checked into rehab and weren’t getting out ‘til after our first few shows, we pushed back the whole fucking tour for you.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that, but I don’t think it’s smart for me to go out there. I don’t want to go out there… It’s… I can’t do it anymore.” Ever since I got out, I’ve been all over the headlines. Exactly like Don said, rehab is hard to keep quiet. Paparazzi follow me. Old pictures of me are splattered all over magazines. “The media will be a distraction for you guys, too. It’s better for us all.”
Chase looks at me like he’s really confused. “Don’t pretend you’re doing this for us. We’ve had your back this whole time for nothing.”
Regardless of what he says, I know this is the right choice.
Blake stands up. “No matter what you want to do, I’ll support you, but you love to play, B.R. You’re the best I’ve seen. Are you sure you want to throw that away?”
