by Chris Cannon
“Yeah, I’ve been spinning that problem around in my head since he told me. And fair warning, no knocking on their door because it might wake his mom up.”
“So, no stopping over for coffee or dropping off cookies… There has to be something we can do.”
I picked up one of the cinnamon sugar donuts and blew on it before popping it into my mouth. Yum. “Let me know if you figure something out, but don’t do anything without talking to me first, okay?”
“I wouldn’t want to mess things up for you.” She went back to making doughnuts. “When we first signed the lease and moved in, I thought his dad was a single parent, like me. I had hoped we might bond over raising kids alone.”
Uh-oh. “Please tell me you didn’t hit on West’s dad.”
She laughed. “I might have tried if he’d ever given me the time of day, but he made it quite clear that he wasn’t interested in talking to me, except to remind me that I needed to pay the rent on time.”
“He’s definitely not a social guy. But hey, being a single parent isn’t all bad, right?”
“No, and considering I’ve ended up happier than your father, I feel like I’ve won the game of life, even if I didn’t end up where I thought I’d be.”
My dad was an over-the-road trucker, so it was natural that he was gone for long periods of time. What wasn’t natural was the fact that he had another wife and family two states away. A midlife crisis wife, as my mom liked to refer to Sheila, since she was ten years younger than him. He’d lived a double life long enough to have a four-year-old and a two-year-old before my mom figured out what was going on.
I didn’t understand why he thought he needed another family, why we hadn’t been enough. It was bad enough that he cheated on my mom, but the fact that he’d created a whole other family…that cut deep.
He’d been gone so much of the time that having him completely cut from our lives didn’t take much getting used to. At least that’s what I told myself.
“Heard anything from him lately?” I liked to think that he might miss us.
“He’s broken up about Sheila leaving him,” my mom said. “And he’s annoyed that I’m happy, which works for me.”
So nothing about Jason or me. That sucked. “Do you think you’d ever trust a guy enough to get married again?” Because from my viewpoint, marriage was a lost cause.
She picked up one of the donuts that had cooled off and took a bite. She chewed and stared off into the distance like she was really thinking about the question. “I’d be happy to date someone if I happened to find the right guy, but I have no desire to pick up after a man ever again. No matter how wonderful a guy may be, all males seem to be missing the gene that tells them the dirty socks are supposed to go in the hamper, rather than on the floor.”
My brother performed that same maneuver. Maybe I’d give him crap about it in an effort to help his future wife. My mind shifted to West. I bet all the socks in his house landed in the hamper. His dad had probably painted a square designating exactly where the hamper had to sit.
“Are you doing anything with West today?” my mom asked.
“Not unless he asks. It’s two weeks until the Valentine’s Dance. I suspect he’ll look for an easy out before then.”
“Why do you say that?”
I didn’t know him well enough to think he’d keep his word, but I couldn’t tell my mom that. “I don’t know. I think he was joking when he asked me to the dance. I don’t want to force him to take me, if he doesn’t want to go.”
“Wrong.” My mom sounded adamant. “He needs to stick to his commitments. You may not end up dating him for long, but he needs to learn that he can’t duck his responsibilities. You’ll be doing his future wife a favor.”
“Like someone should have done with dad?” I asked.
“Yes.” She frowned. “Exactly like that.”
The worst part about my dad’s defection is that none of us had seen it coming. He and my mom had seemed so happy together. I’d thought we were the perfect family. Turns out, I’d been living the perfect lie.
Chapter Six
West
“Big plans for Saturday night?” my dad asked as he handed me the kitchen trash bag to carry outside.
“Not sure yet.” I exited through the glass patio doors and carried the bag to the trash cans on the side of the house. We’d learned the hard way that if we put the trash in the garage, my mom tried to sneak it back inside. Two-week-old garbage sealed in a plastic storage box had a gag-inducing stink all its own, which was also why we locked the garbage bins. I worked the combination lock that held the metal bar in place over the trash can lids. After disposing of the trash, I shut the lock and spun the dial, tugging on it to make sure it was closed.
Back in the kitchen my dad poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. “I think your mom and I will watch a movie tonight.”
He said this like it wasn’t the same thing they did every night. I’d given up on trying to get them to leave the house. He’d been antisocial before my mother went around the bend. Since then, it had only become worse. “If you need anything while I’m out, text me.”
“Thanks.” He stirred sugar into his coffee. “Anything else I should know about?”
Talk about a loaded question. “School is good.”
He waited and sipped his coffee. Sometimes I wondered if he had surveillance cameras installed around the house, and he was waiting for me to confess something. On the off chance he did, I fessed up. “I talked to the neighbors.”
He set his coffee down and sighed. “We discussed this.”
I rushed in to explain. “It’s not a big deal. I told Nina that Mom is sick and housebound so no visitors or gifts. I warned her never to stop by and knock on the door because it might wake Mom up. It’s not like Nina and I are dating. We just talked. I even gave her my number so she can text or call me. No surprise visits. I promise.”
“I don’t like it,” my dad said. “But what’s done is done.” He stood and headed for the hallway. “I’m going to read the paper.”
That went better than I expected. I pulled out my cell and texted my cousins, Matt and Charlie. They were pretty much my best friends, my only friends, really, because they knew about my mom, which meant I didn’t have to lie or keep my guard up around them. We planned to meet at the movies in a few hours.
…
I pulled up to the four-way stop in front of the multiplex and watched the people swarming through the parking lot. Had a movie ended or was everyone arriving? As I turned into the parking lot, a stream of cars started backing out of their spots. I found a spot near the front row and looked around for Matt and Charlie. I checked my cell. The show didn’t start for another forty minutes, so they probably weren’t here yet. I’d left my house as early as possible, something I always did, which made me feel guilty. But pretty much everything made me feel guilty when it came to my mom and her hoarding, so what did it matter?
I texted Matt and Charlie that I was in the parking lot, since their dad had finally relented and given them cell phones for Christmas. Before that, he’d refused to pay for them. I guess every family has its quirks. Mine were just Olympic-level compared to everyone else’s.
I read a book on my cell while I waited for them to text me. Fifteen minutes later my cell buzzed. I met them in the lobby.
…
The show was crowded, so we ended up going halfway up before finding three seats together. Not that I cared. I never understood people like my father who had to sit in a certain spot. Not that he went to the movies much anymore. As long as I could see the screen, I didn’t care.
I checked out the people seated around us. There was a familiar brown ponytail in front of me and to the left. She glanced over her shoulder and saw me. Smiling, she gave a small wave and then turned back around.
“Who’s that?” Charlie asked. “She looks familiar.”
“Nobody,” I said. “She lives in the rental house next do
or.”
“And?” Matt asked.
“And nothing.” I didn’t need them busting my balls over this.
“She did the cute little wave thing,” Charlie said. “That means she’s interested.”
“Did you read that in your how-to-know-what-girls-are-thinking book?” I asked.
“No.” Charlie laughed. “But if a guy ever wrote that he’d be rich.”
“Dating your neighbor seems kind of lazy,” Matt said.
“Or convenient,” Charlie shot back. “Depending on how you look at it.”
“We’re not dating. She’s not my type.”
Charlie leaned over, trying to see her. “She’s cute in a hippy-chick kind of way.”
“Hippy chick?” I snorted.
Matt laughed.
Charlie punched me on the shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
The previews came on glaringly loud, saving me from any further conversation about Nina.
…
We went for pizza after the show. I scanned the area for Nina but didn’t see her, which was a relief. I didn’t need her becoming too friendly and complicating my already complicated life. I needed to find a way out of the stupid Valentine’s Day Dance and be done with her.
I glanced around the restaurant looking for an uncomplicated girl who didn’t live next door to me. There were a few possibilities, but nobody that stood out. Funny, but Cole and Vicky sat together at a table across the room. They seemed to be having a good time.
“So Vicky’s moved on?” Matt said.
I nodded and grabbed another slice of sausage and pepperoni pizza.
“She always seemed sort of pushy,” said Charlie.
“That was one of our problems. She asked too many questions.”
Charlie and Matt made eye contact, and then they both looked at me. “How’s your mom?” Matt asked.
“The same,” I said.
“Have anything you need us to drop off at Goodwill?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, I have a couple of boxes in the shed out back.”
At eleven thirty, they followed me back to the house. Working as quietly as possible, we loaded three cardboard boxes into the back of their pickup truck. The boxes were filled with old dishes and clothes my mom had picked up at garage sales back when she used to leave the house. I collected random items I could sneak out of the house a little bit at a time, and Charlie and Matt took care of them for me. This didn’t begin to put a dent into my mom’s collection, but at least it felt like I was doing something.
Chapter Seven
Nina
Monday morning at school, I was surprised to find Cole waiting by my locker. “Hey, Cole. What’s up?”
“I wanted to thank you for introducing me to Vicky. She’s great.”
“I’m glad you two hit it off.” And I meant it. He was a good guy, despite the fact that he didn’t understand the Harry Potter fandom.
“Since you and West are the reason we met, Vicky thinks we should go on a double date.”
“She does?” Because that was kind of odd. Why would she want to double with her ex? “I’ll mention it to him.”
He nodded like he’d accomplished his mission and then walked off.
“You’re dating West?” A girl two lockers down who was a known gossip moved closer to me with a sly look on her face. Great. News of my non-relationship was going to make the rounds of Greenbrier High before the end of the day.
“It’s nothing official,” I said, trying to throw her off the scent. “No big deal.”
“Don’t you live next door to him?” she asked, like it was some sort of conspiracy.
“I do.”
“So are you like neighbors with benefits?” the girl asked.
Seriously? “No. No we are not. He asked me to the Valentine’s Dance. That’s it. No benefits involved at this point in time.”
The bell rang, and I headed to homeroom, making a mental note to find West as soon as possible to make sure he understood that the neighbors with benefits story, while entertaining, was not to be encouraged.
I sat near Lisa in first hour and filled her in on my strange morning.
“Why would Vicky want to go on a double date?” Lisa asked. “Unless she’s being passive-aggressive. And the neighbors thing? That’s ridiculous.”
“Agreed.”
…
By lunch, enough people had given me the side-eye that I wanted to track the gossiping girl down and strangle her with the strap of her neon pink backpack. Not that I gave a crap what people thought, most of the time, but lies really ticked me off.
Lisa and I sat at our normal table in the smart girl/bookworm section of the cafeteria. West usually sat a few tables away, bordering the cool kid section, but today he walked past his table and came to sit with me.
“Not that I mind, but what prompted this lunchtime visit?”
He smiled. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’re not the one telling people we’ve been sleeping together since you moved in next door and that’s why Vicky and I broke up.”
“What?” I ripped open my bag of Cheez-Its with a little too much force, and they went flying in all directions. Why are people so stupid? “Nope. Wasn’t me.” I gathered up the Cheez-Its that landed on my sandwich and my napkin and put them back in the bag. The ones that had landed on the table were now suspect, so I shoved them in a pile off to the side.
“Did you tell anyone anything?” he asked. “Because I don’t think Vicky would start that kind of rumor.”
“I mentioned to someone that we were neighbors.”
“Maybe she thought you were speaking in code,” Lisa teased.
“Not funny.” I flicked one of the contaminated Cheez-Its at her. “Speaking of Vicky, did you hear she wants us to go on a double date with her and Cole?”
“No way,” he said. “I broke up with her, which means I don’t have to deal with her anymore.” He pointed at me and then back at himself. “And we are not dating.”
“Did you really think you needed to clarify who you were talking about with a gesture? There are only three of us here, and I love Lisa, but not in a let’s-shack-up-and-raise-poodles sort of way.”
“I just wanted to be clear.” He pushed his chair away from the table.
“We’re still going to the dance,” I told him.
“No. We’re not,” he said.
“Yes we are, because otherwise I lied when I agreed with you,” I said.
“So?”
“I don’t lie,” I said.
“Never?”
“No. I think you should always tell the truth, no matter how painful it is.”
West looked at me like he didn’t believe me. He checked out the people at surrounding tables. “See that girl over my shoulder who looks like she put on her makeup with a spatula?”
I nodded. “What about her?”
“If she asked how you liked her new makeup, what would you say?”
“I’d say her lipstick is a pretty color and then suggest she might want to wear a little less eye makeup during the day.”
“Which means you’d avoid telling her the truth,” West said. “Which is the same as lying.”
“No. It’s not. We’re going to the dance. End of story.”
“Why?” He scooted his chair back toward the table. “Seriously. Why do you want to go to the Valentine’s Dance with me?”
I didn’t. Not really. “Whether I want to go with you or not, doesn’t matter.”
“So you don’t want to go with me?” He tilted his head and studied me.
“It’s not you that I don’t want to go with.”
He closed his eyes like he was trying to figure something out. “Does what you’re saying actually make sense to you?”
“Of course it does. It’s not that I don’t want to go with you. I don’t want to go with anyone. Valentine’s Day is a stupid tradition. Valentine’s Day dances doubly so.”
“If it’s stupid, then why a
re you insisting we go?”
“Karma, truth, justice, and the American way. Take your pick. You said we were going, so we’re going.”
“Isn’t there some guy out there with a huge library you’d rather spend your time with?”
“Awww.” I patted him on the shoulder. “Are you insecure about the size of your library? I’m sure it’s fine.”
West glared at me. And then he stood up and walked over to where he normally sat.
“Well, that was entertaining,” Lisa said. “What do you think the odds are of him taking you to the dance?”
“Who knows?” While I was sure I wasn’t his dream date, I wasn’t a troll. There were worse things than going to the Valentine’s Dance with your stubborn, argumentative, bookworm neighbor. I’d do my best to convince him of that. If it came down to a battle of wills, I was pretty sure I could out-debate him and outlast him in the stubbornness department.
Chapter Eight
West
Vicky approached me at my locker after school. Before she could get a word out, I said, “The answer is no. We’re not going on a double date.”
“Well, that’s rude,” she said.
“No. It’s normal.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “People don’t go on double dates with their exes.”
“You’re taking this all wrong. I really like Cole.”
“Good for you. Be happy with him and stop tormenting me.” I slammed my locker and turned to go.
“So are you and Nina a couple, because I heard the strangest rumor.”
I turned back around. “No, you heard a stupid rumor.”
“Same thing, really.” She grinned like this was all a big joke.
“Vicky, bottom line, what do you want?”
“For all of us to be friends,” she said.
“I doubt that.”
“Honestly, you were a bad boyfriend.”
“Thanks for clearing that up.” I turned to walk away from her.
“But I still care about you, and you need friends,” she said.
That brought me up short. I turned back to her. “I have friends. And you’re not one of them.” The look of hurt on her face made me regret my words. Whatever. It was too late now. I headed for my car.
