by Allie Gail
“I wouldn’t hate you.”
“So you say now.” Releasing me, he tweaks my nose gently before turning and strolling over to the sofa. To my amazement, he kicks off his sneakers and makes himself right at home.
I’m way happier than I should be that he isn’t leaving.
“Come over here,” he orders, patting the spot beside him. I follow him over and flop down beside him clumsily.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“We’re just going to sit here and talk.”
Wow. A guy who wants to ‘just talk’? That’s gotta be one for the record book.
“About what?”
“Anything that will take my mind off sex,” he responds dryly.
“If it’s that much of a problem, you can always take things into your own hands, if you get my drift,” I remind him cheerfully.
“That’s not helping.”
“Just sayin’.”
“All right, smartass. I’m pretty sure you can come up with something better than that. Start talking. I know you know how. Tell me something about yourself.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Tell me about your family.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Any siblings, besides the brother you already mentioned?”
“Nope, just the one stepbrother. Shane Becker, veterinarian, married, no kids yet but one on the way, resides in Franklin, Tennessee, social security number four nine seven–”
“I don’t need his social security number, Leah.”
“That’s good, because I was just making it up anyway.”
“Are you from Tennessee?”
“Me? No, I’ve never lived anywhere but here.”
“So…stepbrother. I take it your parents are divorced, then?”
“Yes. My dad remarried when I was twelve.”
“I see. And your stepmother – do you get along with her?”
“Sure, I love Louise to death. She’s great.”
“What about your mom? Is she remarried?”
I hesitate, biting my bottom lip the way I tend to do when I’m at a loss. Questions about my mother are always hard for me. And this one? I don’t even know how to answer it. Is she remarried? Well, yes. She was, of course, but whether or not she’s still with the creep is something I have no way of knowing. It’s something I don’t care to know.
“I’m not sure,” I reply uncertainly, fully expecting Myles to look at me like I’m crazy or maybe just flat out stupid.
To his credit, his expression reveals nothing. “Do you not keep in touch?”
I bite my lip harder.
Keep in touch? Are you kidding me? I could almost laugh, if the whole thing wasn’t so damn pathetic.
Keep in touch, indeed.
How, I have to wonder, was I supposed to keep in touch with a person who wanted nothing more to do with me?
Chapter Nine
age 10
She looks different.
Perched at the top of the stairs, I am pretending to not be interested in the conversation going on between my mom and dad, but when they aren’t looking I can’t resist sneaking quick peeks at her over the top of my comic book.
I’m pretty sure my dad has spoken to her on the phone – as a matter of fact, I know he has – but this is the first time either of us has laid eyes on her since she left.
It’s only been a little over a month, but so much has changed already. The way she looks, for one thing. She’s cut her hair and dyed it a lighter shade of blonde. And I’ve never seen the outfit she has on so it must be new, too. She’s wearing white beaded sandals and a flowing blue sundress that swirls around her legs whenever she moves.
She looks really pretty. Even younger, somehow.
I don’t like it that she looks that way.
They are talking in quiet voices, so I can’t hear what’s being said. My overnight bag is packed and sitting on the stairs beside me, but I am still hoping that Daddy will change his mind and not make me go. Yesterday when he told me that Mom wanted to take me for the weekend, I felt like throwing up. Take me where is what I’d like to know! Why can’t she just stay here at home where she belongs? With us?
Everything is all mixed up. I don’t know how to feel. It’s hard to explain.
I miss her, of course. And I wanted to see her, but at the same time I was somehow dreading it. And now that I have seen her, I don’t feel one bit reassured. Something is wrong. This whole crazy situation is just WRONG. This isn’t the way things are supposed to be!
Daddy says Mom has decided that she would be happier living somewhere else right now. That it’s his fault, not mine. And that I shouldn’t worry because even though she no longer wants to be with him, it doesn’t mean she cares any less about me.
But I say, if she can stop loving him just like that, who’s to say she hasn’t stopped loving me as well?
They both look up at me at the same time, and Daddy gives me an encouraging smile but I know it isn’t real. There haven’t been any real smiles around here since she left. The dark circles under his eyes are proof of that. The past five weeks have been agony for him. He tried to hide his sadness from me but the harder he tried, the more I sensed it.
You can’t hide something like that.
“Are you ready to go, sport?”
I give him a look. But either he doesn’t catch on, or he doesn’t care. Or maybe there’s just nothing he can do about it.
She’s still my mother, after all. So I have no choice but to go with her.
Plodding downstairs, I stiffen when she hugs me, silently pleading with my eyes as I look up at Daddy. I don’t want to go, and I’m about to tell them both just that when something in his expression stops me. He looks so tired. So defeated. In spite of what he says, none of this is his fault, so I decide I won’t make matters worse by begging for something he has no control over.
When Mom speaks, her voice is way too bright. “My goodness, I’ve missed you! Look at you. Have you been a good girl while I was away? Been keeping up with your summer reading list?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I stare glumly down at my pink Keds.
“How’s day camp going?”
Is she serious? “That ended like, two weeks ago. School is about to start back.”
“Oh. Really, has it been that long? Wow, the summer’s sure flying by, isn’t it?”
I give her a strange look. How can she not realize how long it’s been?
“You could use a haircut,” she comments, brushing the bangs back out of my eyes.
“I guess.”
There’s an awkward silence, then she glances at my dad and clears her throat. “Okay. Well…I’ll bring her back Sunday. Sometime around six work for you?”
“That’ll be fine.” He’s watching me instead of her though, and I get the feeling he doesn’t want me to go either. But all he says as he ruffles my hair is, “Behave for your mother, Taz.”
“I will.”
Carrying my bag, I follow her outside in silence. I can’t help but scowl when I see what she’s driving. Not the red Honda Accord anymore, but a shiny silver SUV. Is she trading in everything in her life? Can’t even one single thing stay the same?
“Like it?” She seems proud of it. “It’s a Tucson. Nice, huh?”
If she thinks I am going to be impressed by her stupid new SUV, she is wrong. I hate it. I hate it because I know that Daddy didn’t help her pick it out. What was wrong with her red car? Nothing, that’s what.
After we are buckled in and on our way, I figure she’s going to break the ice by asking me how I’ve been or whether I have any questions. Or at the very least, fill me in on where the heck she’s been all this time.
But she doesn’t. She doesn’t say anything. She just flips on the radio and starts humming along to some dippy seventies song. Unbelievable!
I finally can’t stand the suspense anymore, so I ask, “Where are we going?”
“The Holiday Inn.”
Turning the volume down some, she glances over at me with a vague smile. “We only flew into town for five days so I could take care of a few things, but I thought it would be nice to spend a little time with you while we’re here.”
We? Who else is with her? “In town from where?” The shiny silver SUV must be a rental, then. Maybe she still has her car after all, I think hopefully.
“Lisbon. Didn’t your father tell you?”
“No. Where is Lisbon?”
“Portugal, silly. You should know that.”
“Portugal? You mean like, the one next to Spain?”
“Well, of course. Which Portugal did you think I meant?” Stopping at a traffic light, she stares at the red glow with a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes. “Oh, sweetie…you wouldn’t believe how beautiful it is there. Words can’t even describe it. Cobblestone streets, Gothic cathedrals, gardens blooming everywhere, architecture that looks like something straight out of a fairy tale. And you ought to see the beaches along the Serra de Sintra coastline…”
“This is Florida. There are beaches around here, too,” I remind her defensively. I can’t believe what I’m hearing! Is this where she’s been for the past five weeks? Living it up on the beaches of Serra de whatever?
“Not like these. They’re so rugged and windswept…well, you’d have to see them to understand what I mean. Maybe sometime you can come visit and I’ll show you around. Give you the grand tour. Would you like that?”
My mouth falls open, and I feel a sick knot twisting like a pretzel in my stomach. “You mean you’re going back there?” I almost wail.
“Don’t whine, Leah. You know how I hate that.” Mom seems to be concentrating very hard on the road, but I think she’s only trying to avoid looking at me. “Yes, I’m going back. Renaldo has an international trade business in Lisbon, so that’s where I’m going to be living for the time being. It’s only the other side of the Atlantic, not outer space, you know. You can still call me. Or we can Skype.”
Bewildered, I shake my head. “Who has a business in Lisbon?”
Giving me a sidelong look, she purses her lips. “Hmph. Your father really didn’t tell you much of anything, did he?”
“No. All he said was that you needed a little time by yourself to work some things out. And that we should be patient. That’s pretty much it.”
She rolls her eyes, and I can see her hands tightening around the steering wheel. That’s when I notice she’s wearing a new opal ring where her wedding ring used to go. “I might have known. It’s just like your father to leave all the explaining to me.”
“So you’re not coming home? Ever?”
We’ve arrived at the hotel, and Mom pulls into an empty parking spot and shuts off the engine. But instead of getting out, she just sits there looking at the dashboard.
“Mom?”
“Leah, honey…” Frowning, she drops her hands to her lap and laces her fingers together. “So many times, especially as we get older, we have to deal with things in life that are unexpected. That’s part of growing up. I know that change isn’t always easy, and it isn’t always the most pleasant thing, but it’s better that you learn now how to adapt to diversity. You see, things don’t always go exactly the way we want them to. All you can do is be strong and make the best of the situation at hand. Without complaining.”
“Why? Why can’t you just come home? Why do you have to go to Portugal?”
“I have to do this for me. For me, Leah. I’m sorry, but everything in my life can’t revolve around you. That’s just not realistic. You’re not a baby anymore, and I have to have a life, too. Can’t you understand that?”
I stare at her wordlessly. No, I don’t understand. Not at all. Am I supposed to feel guilty for wanting my mother to stay with me? Am I a terrible person for wishing things didn’t have to change? I know I’m not a baby, but I am only ten years old!
“It’ll be all right,” she assures me. “Trust me.”
In a small voice, I say, “But…what about Daddy?”
“Your father will be just fine. I promise.”
“He doesn’t seem fine to me.”
But Mom has already opened the door and is getting out, and she doesn’t answer so I don’t know if she heard me. Or maybe she just wants to pretend she didn’t.
I grab my bag and slide down out of the huge SUV, trying very hard not to cry. This isn’t working out the way I’d hoped. And I definitely don’t want to be here. I want to be back at home, and if Mom doesn’t want to be there then maybe she should just go back to her wonderful, magical Lisbon!
Concentrating on the hotel instead, I try and force myself to cheer up as we walk inside. I’ve always liked staying at hotels, and this one seems nice. There’s even a sign that says they have an indoor pool, which is pretty neat. It might not be so bad. Maybe it will even be fun. Maybe we’ll have so much fun while Mom is here that she’ll forget all about Lisbon and decide to stay, after all. I just have to make sure everything goes perfectly.
We take an elevator to the third floor, and I follow behind Mom until she stops at one of the doors and swipes it with one of those key card things. When she pulls the door open, I get a blast of freezing cold air from the air conditioning.
“After you,” she chirps pleasantly, and I give her a halfhearted smile as I walk into the room. Maybe everything will be okay. If I can just convince her I'm not a horrible kid, maybe she'll think I'm worth sticking around for…
But my smile fades and I nearly trip over my own feet when I see what’s inside.
There is a strange man sitting at the small table by the window. He is very tan and has these really thick eyebrows and longish black hair that looks messy but is probably done that way on purpose. His clothes are casual, too. He looks like one of those magazine ads for vitamins or protein drinks or something. You know, the ones that always show some guy running along the beach with a dog.
The man straightens, and I watch in amazement as my mother goes over and gives him a one-armed hug before allowing him to kiss her. Right on the lips, too! I don't even know who this man is but I hate him already. Who does he think he is, kissing my mom like that? Doesn’t he know she is married?
But she just turns and beckons me over like everything’s perfectly normal. “Leah, I’d like for you to meet a very dear friend of mine. This is Renaldo Madeira.”
I am frozen. I can’t move.
“Ah, so this is the infamous Leah I have heard so much about!” Walking swiftly towards me, the man reaches for one of my hands and then lifts it to his mouth and kisses it. Nobody has ever kissed my hand before. I thought they only did that stuff in corny movies!
Behind him, Mom points both index fingers to the corners of her upturned mouth, indicating that I should smile.
I don’t. I have never felt less like smiling.
“Hi,” I mumble, jerking my hand back. Yuck! I want to go into the bathroom and scrub it with soap. I also can’t help but wrinkle my nose because he is wearing a lot of cologne, and by a lot I mean enough to attract flies. Like he spilled the whole bottle all over himself by accident. Does he think everyone on this floor wants to smell him?
He smiles broadly, and his teeth are way too white. “What a beautiful young lady! It is clear to see where your mother gets her good looks,” he teases, winking at me as if it’s some kind of private joke between us. He rolls his R’s, which I might have thought was cool coming from anyone else. The accent sounds Spanish or something like it. I guess that makes sense if he lives in Portugal.
I don’t know what they expect me to say, so I just look over at Mom questioningly.
“Renaldo has a daughter, too,” she informs me. “Gabriela is six. You’d love her. She’s a little doll – has the biggest brown eyes. Smart as a whip, too. She can speak two languages already, can you believe that?”
I stare at her speechlessly, and the knot in my middle tightens uncomfortably. So this is why my mother disappeared without a word to me? So she could go spend
time with someone else’s daughter rather than her own?
What’s wrong with me? I want to ask, but I’m afraid to.
“W-where…um…did she come, t-too?” I flush with embarrassment at my nervous stuttering. It only happens when I am agitated. It know it gets on my mom’s nerves, but I can’t help it. The more she scolds me about it, the worse it seems to get.
“She is back in Batalha with her mama,” the man tells me. “But perhaps one day you two will have the opportunity to meet. I am sure Gabriela would like that very much.”
“You’re married?” I ask hopefully.
Furrowing his bushy brow, he looks quickly at my mom before returning his attention to me. “Of course not. Carlota and I have been divorced for three years now.”
“Really, Leah,” Mom reproaches me. “That was a silly question.”
“Well, you’re m-married,” I point out.
Renaldo or whatever-his-stupid-name-is startles me by bursting out laughing like that was the funniest thing he ever heard. “The little one has made a good point, Ellen. She is a blunt one, sim?”
“She is that.” The tone of her voice indicates that she is not as amused as he seems to be.
“I think you are much like your mama, querida.” He ruffles my hair, and I instinctively stiffen. “Not only beautiful but very outspoken. Tell me, are you as smart as you pretend to be?”
Pretend to be? What’s that supposed to mean? I bristle defensively, ready to fire back with an insult of my own.
Before I can say something snarky, my mother takes over. “Actually, Leah does quite well in school. She’s never once brought home a bad grade.”
Relieved that she has come to my defense, I shoot her a grateful smile.
“Of course, she could be doing even better if she’d spend more time studying and less time tearing about the neighborhood on that dirt bike her father bought her. I swear, sometimes I believe she thinks she’s a boy and you know, he only encourages her!”
