by Sadie Allen
“You could come with us. We could be roomies,” I whispered to Molly as I squeezed her tightly.
“You got Jackson.”
“He won’t be staying long. The dorms will be open next month, and he’ll be living there.”
She pulled back and gave me a look. “I have a feeling he won’t be at those dorms very often.”
I gave her shoulder a shove, and then pulled her back in for another hug.
“Going to miss you, Sunny Sunshine.”
“Promise me that you’ll at least visit,” I said when I pulled away.
She gave me an unconvincing smile. That was all I was going to get for right now.
Telling Sally good-bye was going to be the hardest. She was like a second grana to me, and I really was going to miss her. She and Grana had taught me everything about the kitchen. Well, maybe Sally more than Grana, at least about cooking.
I leaned down and hugged Sally’s small frame, inhaling the scent of Virginia Slims and Aqua Net. I had held it together with Molly, but I didn’t think I could with Sally. I knew that was true when I felt the wet on my cheeks.
“Hush, darlin’ girl.”
I let out a shuddering breath and was going to say something, anything, but my throat was tight and my eyes were still leaking.
“Wanda would be so proud of you.” She waited a beat then said, “I’m proud of you.”
It hurt, but I managed to hold back the sob that wanted to escape. If I let it go, I would break down completely. I knew they were proud. Grana and Sally had told me often. However, hearing it again always made something inside me glow.
“You’re strong, girl, and brave. You’re going to be fine. I know you’re going to do great things. Just don’t forget where you came from and come visit me when you can. I’m gonna miss you.” When she hiccoughed, I realized my tough old broad of a boss was fighting back tears.
“I’m going to miss you, too. And thank you. Thank you for everything.”
“You hush.” She gave my back a couple of pats then held me out at arm’s length.
I looked into her blue, bifocaled eyes when I told her, “I wouldn’t be where I am today without you. You and Grana got me this far, and I promise I’ll keep making y’all proud.”
She nodded and patted my bicep before stepping back.
Then I turned to Judd, who had been standing there, watching us.
“Y’all take care,” he said as he lifted his hand toward Molly and Sally. Then he leaned toward me and gave me a quick press of his lips. Looking straight into my eyes as he pulled away, he said, “Be careful and stay close.” I was supposed to follow him and the trailer all the way to the apartment, with Raina following me. Then he lifted his hand again and traced the backs of his fingers from my temple to my jaw, the intensity in his eyes cranking up to a jillion when he said, “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I told him as he turned away and walked toward his Jeep.
Then I looked over at Sally and Molly, who were standing side by side, and gave a little wave before I climbed into the cab of my truck and cranked the ignition.
As Judd started to pull away, me following behind, I glanced in the rearview mirror and watched my friends, my childhood home, and my former life shrink in the distance. Then I looked forward and concentrated on the scenic picture of the Rockies painted on the back of the small white trailer in front of me. Frankie Ballard’s version of “You’ll Accomp’ny Me” blared from the free radio station on my phone, the beads and feathers of the dream catcher Judd had given me swaying as they hung from the rearview mirror, as I left it all behind. Now it was all just a memory in a rearview mirror.
Judd
EVERYONE ALWAYS SAID THAT your teenage years were supposed to be the best time in your life, but I knew that was a crock. For some, that might be true. For others, the teenage years were about survival, whether that was at home, school, or both. We learned our greatest lessons from that short time in purgatory, and it shaped us into better human beings than we would have been without it.
What we always had to remember was that we had a choice. No one could make those for you. We had the choice to let those who treated us like trash define the rest of our lives, or you could move on. Everything was temporary, even when it felt like eternity, like high school. Some of us moved on, and some of us didn’t. I was choosing to move on. Maybe I would get it over it, which I figured would happen, or I might never.
Almost losing Sunny had changed me. Being with her had started the process, but with her love and gentle hand, I was ready to move forward with my life. I hadn’t realized it, but I had been living in a stagnate environment, moving neither forward nor backward. Just existing.
I had been holding on to so much anger and hurt that it had been affecting the way I saw the world. Before my dad’s transition, my narrow world had been colorful, but just that—narrow. Then, when my dad’s secret life had come to light, that world had leeched of all color, graying to nothing but blacks and whites. Finally, when Sunny had come into my life, she had been like a prism, reflecting light and color everywhere. She hadn’t just colored my world; she had broadened it, making me see past myself and the hurt that had been slowly eating me alive.
If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be sitting here at a Starbucks, waiting for my dad to show up, waiting to see him for the first time since he had left.
Sunny had helped me discover that I wasn’t angry at my dad for what he was. I was more upset that he had left me and never came back. That was what I had a hard time accepting. Not his lifestyle choice, but his abandonment.
Him not picking up the phone and calling me to see how I was or to let me know that he was okay. Not coming to visit. That was the biggest blow of all.
Sunny had tried to explain what it must have been like for him all those years, living a lie and hiding it from his family. How that must have eaten him up inside because he couldn’t be his true self with the people he loved the most. That he let the fear of rejection rule his life, and that after he had been outed, he had probably thought we would be better off without him. Out of sight and out of mind.
Yes, what my dad had done was wrong. My mom and I didn’t deserve it, but maybe he wasn’t the only one at fault. We had never made our home a safe place for him to be himself. Maybe if I had taken the time to think about my father more and myself less, then I would have noticed his depression, or noticed that the face he had presented us with day in and day out had been a mask. That he had never been comfortable being the person he pretended to be.
I didn’t know. I had a feeling the signs had been there, and that my mom and I had been too self-absorbed to see them.
Sunny made me want to reach out to him and try to figure things out. So, after a long talk with my mother, she had given me his phone number with her blessing.
She had been sober since Sunny had been in the hospital and hadn’t missed an AA meeting. Her sponsor had also recommended counseling. I was seeing hints of my old mom, but I had a feeling that the person she used to be was gone, and a stronger one was taking her place.
Was she over my dad? I didn’t know. How could you move on from the love of your life? Maybe you couldn’t. I hoped I didn’t ever have to find out.
When the bell sounded over the door, I looked in that direction and saw the tall form of my father glide my way. I didn’t know whether to call him a him, or her a her, or to call him dad or Joanie, the name he had told me he went by now. I knew I wasn’t comfortable calling him mom.
It was strange, though, seeing him as Joanie. He had grown his blond hair down to his shoulders and had some streaks of lighter blond added to it. He was wearing makeup, but it didn’t make him look like a drag queen. It was subtle. And he was dressed in women’s clothing: a long, flowy dress, paired with heels and a blazer.
I didn’t understand any of this, but I was hoping that, after today, maybe I would. It was going to take time, but I knew I loved my dad; I missed my dad; and I wanted him to
be happy, whether he was Coach Dan Jackson or just plain Joanie Jackson.
Therefore, when he sat down in the chair across from me, I couldn’t help grinning, knowing everything was going to be okay; no maybe about it.
The End.
First and foremost, I have to thank God for blessing me with this life and the opportunity to do something I have always dreamed. Without my faith in Jesus, I wouldn’t be here, writing stories.
To my husband, thank you for everything you do for me, which is a lot. Thank you for making me coffee when I need it to stay awake at night to write. Thank you for taking the kids with you to run errands so I can stay at home alone and write. Thank you for being quiet in the car on road trips so I can make my deadlines. Thank you most of all for being my dream catcher and making my dreams come true. I love you more than I can ever tell you.
I want to thank my children for their unconditional love and support. Thank you for all the movies watched, days at Nana’s, and takeout dinners so I can sit down and write whenever I can. I love you all more than words.
My best friend, Amanda, thank you for everything. If I had to list all the things to thank you for, I would have written another book. Thank you for believing in me when I didn’t believe in myself. If it wasn’t for you, I would have probably given up writing a long time ago.
Kristin Campbell, thank you for holding my hand and putting up with my codependency throughout this process. This book wouldn’t be complete without you. You are amazing, and I’m glad we are friends.
Jessica Gibson, if wasn’t for you, Maybe Never would still have a hole in the middle. Thank you for going above and beyond being an author coach and becoming my friend.
My parents, thank you for giving me life. Mom, thank you for buying me books and sharing your love of reading with me. Thank you for reading Charlotte’s Web to me when it was too sad for me to finish on my own. Dad, thank you for teaching me about hard work and standing up in the face of adversity. You always did what you wanted, took risks, and achieved your dreams. Thank you for giving me that.
Sadie Allen lives in Texas with her family and her dog Penny. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, catching up on her favorite shows, or chasing her family around the house.
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Spotify Playlist: Maybe Never
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