Hold On

by Kristen Ashley

  This meant I needed to shut up and listen.

  “Well, whatever. Be gooey, I don’t care,” he declared. “But I’m not gonna be here forever, Mom. Five years, I’m gonna have my license and be on the football team. That means practice after school and conditioning and swimming on the weekends. And I’ll have a babe and I’ll need to take her out. I’ll be gone a lot. Then what are you gonna do?”

  “Ethan,” I muttered, dreading that time, upset that he recognized that time would come and he worried about me.

  “No, I wanna know,” he demanded. “I’m almost eleven. You think I don’t know how hard it is for you to look out for me? But you don’t seem to know I don’t need it. Okay, like, I get it that you can’t leave me at home alone at night and stuff like that. But I’d be good during the day. I could even walk home from school so Gramma or Vi don’t have to come and get me. It’s not like that’s crazy. Other kids do it.”

  Other kids might do it, but they only had a couple of hours to look after themselves before their parents got home. I didn’t get home on early shifts until after eight thirty.

  I was cool for a mom, I could see that, but that was too long for a kid Ethan’s age to be by himself.

  “That’s not gonna happen for a couple of years, kid,” I told him quietly.

  “Right, but you know I’m good, even if you’re not good with it yet, right?”

  I could give him that for sure, so I did.

  I nodded. “I know you’re good.”

  “And, like, that’s gonna be the way it’ll be and then what for you, Mom? If I’m not around, who are you gonna be with? Who’s gonna be around to make you happy?”

  God, my eyes felt like they were growing in my head, pushing the boundaries of their sockets, and it hurt like crazy.

  “That isn’t something you need to worry about, baby,” I said, and his head jolted.

  “If I don’t think about stuff like this, who will?” he asked. “Not you,” he answered himself and kept going. “It’s like you’re all about me, and that’s cool. That’s part of you bein’ a cool mom, you know, bein’ into video games and things like that, but also how you are lookin’ after me. But that’s all you are, Mom. You, like…work, then you, like…look out for me. And that’s it. I mean, Merry’s a super-cool dude and I know he’d be totally into you, but he wouldn’t think to ask because you’re all about lookin’ out for me. He knows he’d get shot down, so why bother?”

  Yep, I was right. Even though he wasn’t entirely correct, still, my kid was too sharp for his own good.

  “And Merry’s the only cool one left,” Ethan informed me gravely. “He’s really tall, and he’s totally funny, and he wears suits like they’re jeans. The girls at school who know him think he’s hot for an old guy. I mean, there’s Marty and he’s all right, but he’s also kind of a goof. And you deserve someone like Merry, not a guy who’s all right but also kind of a goof.”

  This was going on too long, and if it went on much longer, no joke, it might just kill me.

  “You’re about to get around six weeks of gooey,” I returned, hoping to shut him up.

  He knew what I was hoping and shook his head, exasperated. “You’re just sayin’ that to shut me up when you shouldn’t because this is important.” He leaned toward me. “I liked it when Merry woke me up this morning. He was funny and he showed me how that wire got disconnected in the waffle iron, so if it happens again, I can fix it. And we both were bein’ real quiet ’cause you were sleepin’ and he made that funny too. But I know we both felt good doin’ it, knowin’ you don’t get a lot of sleep.”

  God, Ethan really dug having Merry around.

  Damn.

  “Ethan, honey—”

  He threw his controller down on the couch between us and crossed his arms on his little man chest, interrupting me. “I just want you to be happy. I know Gramma does too. She worries. She’s a mom, just like you, but I got you to look after me. She’s a mom with a kid who doesn’t have anyone who’ll look after her.”

  And my kid was good at laying the guilt on too.

  Shit.

  “I’m an adult and I can look after myself, baby. I can look after both of us,” I told him.

  “I know you can, Mom,” he declared impatiently. “But that doesn’t mean you should. Not alone. Not when you’re pretty and cool and funny and like football and should have a guy around who likes you just as much as Gram and me.”

  “I can’t just order a guy off a menu, kid,” I told him jokingly, hoping to cut through his serious vibe because it didn’t sit real well that my son worried about me at all, but especially not feeling it this deeply.

  It was the wrong thing to say, and I knew this when he set his little man jaw and turned his eyes angrily to the TV.

  “You wanna look after me,” I surmised gently.

  He tightened his arms on his chest.

  Okay, I had to do something.

  But God, what I had to do was lie to my kid.

  “I’ll be happy someday, Ethan.” There was the lie. Then I gave him a kind of truth. “You’re right, you’re gettin’ older and I should let go a bit and take some time seein’ to me. I’ll do that, promise.” When he didn’t look to me, I prompted, “Yeah?”

  It took him a second, but eyes still to the TV, he grunted, “Yeah.”

  “I just love you a lot, baby,” I whispered and watched his chin wobble before he got control of it. “You’re the best thing I ever did and I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

  He turned surly eyes to me. “I already won’t.”

  “That’s good news,” I muttered.

  He pushed it. “And I want you to promise that when I turn twelve, you’ll let me walk home by myself so you or Gram or Vi don’t have to come and get me.”

  “How about we talk about that when you’re about to turn twelve,” I suggested. “Deal?”

  “Whatever,” he mumbled, looking back at the TV.

  I let out a sigh, then made a decision.

  “Since we’ve already jumped headfirst into the intense, and you just laid it out to your mom that you’re growin’ up and I need to have a mind to that, there’s somethin’ I gotta talk to you about.”

  He couldn’t hide his curiosity when he looked back to me.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Well…” I didn’t know where to begin.

  When I didn’t speak further, my kid looked more curious, so I threw it out there.

  “I had a not-so-happy chat with your dad not too long ago.”

  Ethan’s eyes got big.

  I kept giving it to him.

  “I didn’t like what he said a whole lot, so I’m thinkin’ on things with him and Peggy. I know you like to spend time with them, but I’m gonna have to ask that you just talk to them on the phone for a while until your dad and me figure this out.”

  “What’d he say?”

  Shit.

  Here we go.

  Okay, he wanted to be grown up? I had to let him.

  Starting now.

  See? The suckage of my life never ended.

  I turned fully to him, lifting a bent leg and putting it up on the couch. “Okay, he said that he and Peggy wanna see you more and that kinda freaked me. But when I told him we’d talk about it after I had some time to think about it, he said other things that weren’t real nice. Peggy wants you livin’ with them full-time, and obviously, I don’t want that. So your dad and me are gonna have to figure out some common ground while Peggy sorts her head out, because she’s not gonna get what she wants.”

  There were not many reactions I would have guessed my son would have outside of being pissed this went down.

  And I was right.

  “Live with them all the time?” he asked, his cheeks getting red and his eyes starting to fire.

  “That’s not gonna happen,” I promised firmly. “She just—”

  “No, it’s not gonna happen,” he snapped, jumped off the couch and cried, “That’s cr
azy!”

  “Ethan, kid, calm down, honey,” I said gently. “It’s not happening. You’re right. Okay?”

  He leaned toward me and yelled, “That’s whacked!”

  “Kid—”

  He didn’t calm down.

  He asked, “So, like, they wanna take me away from you and Gramma and…you?”

  “Ethan, it’s not gonna happen,” I assured.

  He stared at me.

  “Baby, sit down, okay?” I asked gently. “We’re good. This is fine. You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you that you don’t want. It’s gonna be okay. I’m just tellin’ my little man what’s been goin’ down. Now I need you to cool it and talk it through with me.”

  He drew in a breath so big, his chest puffed up with it.

  Then he sat down, eyes to the TV, and I gave him time.

  Eventually, he looked at me.

  “You know, I like him,” he said. “Dad. He’s okay. He can be funny. She’s, like, a really good cook. Tobias and Mary are all cute and do stupid stuff all the time that’s funny. But he’s, like…not Colt. Especially with Peggy. Do you know what I mean?”

  Did I ever.

  “He’s not Merry either,” Ethan went on. “But in a different way because I never saw Merry with a chick. But, you know, Merry’s funny funny, like he doesn’t try. And Dad’s weird funny because you can tell he’s tryin’. But the Colt stuff, it’s, you know, you can tell Peggy totally calls the shots. It’s weird and a little freaky. I mean, it should be like Colt and Feb or, you know, like Mike and Dusty. Like, he’s the dude and he’s a real dude, but he doesn’t walk all over her and she sure doesn’t walk all over him.” He focused intently on me. “Do you know what I mean?”

  “I know what you mean,” I confirmed.

  “It isn’t like I don’t like ’em. It’s just weird,” he told me.

  “Yeah, I bet,” I agreed.

  “But if I had a choice to be around a dude and his chick, it seems more right, the way it should be, bein’ around Colt and Feb or, you know, like, Cal and Vi. Even if Cal is totally badass, Vi still doesn’t let him walk all over her. Dad and Peggy, it’s just…” He shook his head. “Freaky.”

  I loved this. I loved all of it, even Ethan laying it out that I needed to look after myself. I loved it so completely, it made me want to get up and shout at the top of my lungs.

  I wanted to do that because this one conversation proved that somehow, against the odds, those odds mostly created by me, I’d still managed to raise my son right.

  “This is good,” he declared. “I could use a break. Dad asked if I wanted to spend next weekend with them and I was kinda wishin’ I could say no. I’m gonna say no.”

  Well, that was a big honkin’ relief.

  “Okay, Ethan, I’m glad this works for you, because if you say no, he’ll eventually come to me and then I’m gonna say no for you for a while. Are you good with that?” I asked.

  He looked intently at me. “Yeah. And you want, you can tell them I don’t wanna spend more time there and definitely I don’t wanna live with them. He can’t, like, walk into my life when I’m almost grown up and do stuff like that.” He cocked his head and kept talking while studying me, offering, “If you don’t wanna say that to him, I will.”

  “How about you keep things cool between you and your dad and let me do the talking for now? That work for you?”

  He nodded but said, “If I gotta say it, Mom, I will.”

  Oh yeah.

  Mental shout for joy.

  My kid was smart. He was sensitive. He spoke his mind. He was strong. And he was brave.

  I’d raised him right and I was only just over half done. I had more time to set that shit in stone.

  That time wasn’t enough, just because it would eventually end and I wanted it to last forever.

  But it worked for me.

  I nodded to him and replied, “Okay, kid. If you gotta say anything, you should say it anytime. In this situation or whenever. Just be cool about how you say it. You with me?”

  “I’m with you,” he muttered.

  I tipped my head to the TV. “Now, are we gonna annihilate some more bad guys or you wanna help me clean the coffee table?”

  “I’m not done with the M&M’s.”

  Of course he wasn’t.

  Then again, I wasn’t either.

  I had a feeling I missed the boat on broccoli.

  But he liked carrots, so I’d get some of those tomorrow.

  “Right, you get the Pringles, I’ll get the pizza, we leave the M&M’s, then we kick some butt,” I suggested.

  He smiled. “Works for me.”

  He jumped off the couch as I pushed off it.

  I waited.

  He’d grabbed the Pringles and I was gathering up used paper plates, napkins, and the remains of the pizza, timing it just right.

  I was still gathering when I called, “Ethan?”

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  I drew in a deep breath.

  Then I told the pizza, “You’re the absolute best kid on the planet and I love you more than breath, you hear me?”

  “I hear you, Mom,” he replied quietly.

  I said no more.

  We cleared up.

  Then we ate M&M’s and kicked video game bad guy ass.

  After that, my kid went to sleep.

  * * * * *

  I sat cross-legged on my bed, one light on, dimmed by a scarf over it.

  I was barefoot but otherwise still had on my jeans and tee, my makeup, my jewelry, everything.

  I had my phone in my hand, my head tipped to it.

  My texts were up, specifically mine and Merry’s text string.

  The last was from me.

  DONE.

  More evidence of my short fuse and me overreacting.

  I closed my eyes tightly.

  I opened them and allowed my thumbs to move over the screen.

  I’m sorry. I was a total bitch this morning. It was out of hand. You didn’t deserve it. Not a word. I lost it and I really wish I hadn’t.

  I stared at the text.

  Then I hit backspace until it disappeared.

  Ethan totally dug on you waking him up. He liked that you were looking out for me.

  I studied the text for a while before I deleted it.

  He just digs you. He thinks you’re cool and funny and he was hoping you being with us meant you were with me.

  My eyes blazed like fire, a sensation I was getting used to as I hit backspace until the words were gone.

  I woke up liking that you’d looked after me too. Looked after us. I liked that a lot, Merry.

  I erased and then typed.

  Then I did what I’m really good at doing and screwed it up.

  I made it gone and then made more.

  But I’m in love with you and that scares me.

  Quicker than the last, I got rid of that one.

  I’m sorry.

  I stared at those two words on my phone, my thumb hovering over the send button.

  It moved and deleted.

  I turned off the phone and tossed it on the bed, lifting both hands to press the base of my palms to my eyes, trying to soothe the fire.

  That didn’t work, so I unfolded out of bed and went to the bathroom to take off my makeup in order to start getting ready to try and get some sleep.

  I knew this would be an impossible task.

  And when I finally lay alone in the dark, I found I was right.

  * * * * *

  Garrett

  Garrett stood on his balcony having a smoke, his head bent, his phone in his hand.

  He engaged it, distractedly making note he needed to get a new one because that crack was fucking irritating.

  His thumb sliding across the screen, he went to his texts.

  Specifically his and Cher’s string.

  DONE.

  That was her last.

  Fuck.

  He turned off his phone and looked to his view.
/>   She was right.

  When he woke early, he should have woken her to discuss how they’d play the Ethan thing. He’d jumped the gun, made a decision that wasn’t his to make.

  So she was right to be angry.

  But she’d lost it, spewing shit that was completely out of line.

  Which pissed him off.

  He didn’t hide it. She knew it, and it was written all over her by the time he’d walked out the door that she regretted it. And anyway, that was Cher. She didn’t often hold back.

  But since then…nothing. No apology. No Cher being cocky-cute or a pain in the ass in a good way to try to cover it up and move on.

  Nothing.

  The look of her waking up, the way her eyes were on him, the touch of her mouth to his throat, that fucking kiss, it all penetrated his brain.

  He’d gotten in there.

  You got somethin’ worth fighting for, you fight for it. You do not sit on your ass waitin’ for it to come back to you.

  She’d been right.

  But the way things were with them, she was also partially wrong.

  She needed time. He needed time. Cher wasn’t stupid. She paid attention. She knew she took it too far this morning. He knew before he even walked out her door that she wished she could take it back.

  But he was pushing, and he was pushing at a time when any sane, logical woman who knew his history with his ex-wife would have the smarts to push back.

  Cher was pushing back for more than just that, but there was also that.

  He needed to cool it. He needed to give her some space. He needed her to know that he was moving on, and his decision to explore moving on with her, which meant with her and her boy, was a risk worth it for her to take.

  Staring at the parking lot, Garrett made a decision.

  He’d give her a week.

  He took a drag, inhaled, let it go, and decided it was time to cut back in order to prepare to stop altogether. Ethan did not hide he dug having Garrett around that morning like he never hid he dug having Garrett or any of the men around.

  It was over three decades ago, but he didn’t forget what it was like to be a kid that age, drinking up all that was around you, storing it inside to let evaporate the shit you didn’t need so the man you wanted to be could flood out when the time was right.

  He didn’t need to give Ethan the idea anything was cool that was not.