Before I Say Goodbye

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  I thought I detected a hint of a smile at the corner of Kyle’s mouth. Maybe we were finally getting somewhere. Her anger gone, the shrunken look had returned, and she was a child who desperately needed a hug. I wished I could give it to her.

  All at once something clicked inside me, something that didn’t come from me but from above, and I knew where Kyle had been taking James, where she’d been going on Allia’s bike, and what it meant to her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kyle

  Allia’s mom was trying to make me feel better, even though she didn’t know that I really did have a reason for trying to steal the candy and the fancy markers. It wasn’t that I wanted something new to wear or that I felt any weird compulsion to take things that didn’t belong to me. I had a reason.

  Yesterday at school, I’d manage to sell the jeans and the cool blue shirt with the necklace I’d stolen the Monday before school started. It wasn’t like I could wear them, anyway. I felt sick even thinking about it. That might have something to do with those lessons in Allia’s class at church and that annoying teacher who kept smiling at me, but regardless, they did me no good at home under my bed.

  I’d gotten fifteen bucks for the set of clothes—half the original price. It wasn’t a lot, but if I took more, I’d have more to sell. I might begin to make enough.

  Enough to pay for the lessons.

  Except I’d been caught, and now there was no hope at all. There was nothing except watching and longing and dancing alone when Mom was upstairs with James. My muscles already hurt from hours of practicing the new moves—and from riding that bike. Muscles I never knew I had.

  Something inside me was breaking, and I felt I couldn’t hold it all together. More than anything at that moment, I wished Allia’s mom were really my mom and that she could take me in her arms and hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay.

  My mom would be here soon, and she’d hold me and say those things, but I wouldn’t believe her. She was hiding something from me. I think I knew why she’d come here, out of all the places we could go, and why she’d wanted to find her old friend Dante. I didn’t like knowing, and I didn’t think they’d be pleased when they found out either.

  Sister Rushton came around the table and sat in the chair next to me. Her hand reached out to my arm. “Kyle,” she said. “You dance, don’t you? Like your mother? I remember her saying something like that the first day we met you.”

  A huge, impossible lump formed in my throat. I nodded.

  “You took James to a dance class, didn’t you? Are you taking dance?”

  “No.” I tried to hold them back, but the tears fell, in large drops. Her face was distorted, but I could tell she wasn’t upset, and that made it okay. “Well, I had one free class, but that was all.”

  “So all these other days you’ve just been watching?”

  I nodded. “I practice the moves later. I thought if I could sell some things, I could pay to really be in the class.” I rushed on, explaining how my teacher at school had recommended the class and how she only recommended it to girls with talent, how good the new teacher really was, how wonderful the lesson had been, and how much I wanted to attend. It all tumbled out. Even if I’d wanted to hold it in, I couldn’t have.

  Her eyes widened, blue eyes like my mother’s, but darker, more oval-shaped. Or maybe the dark lashes made them seem that way. Pretty. She hadn’t connected dance with the shoplifting before I told her, but I wanted her to know I had a reason. I wasn’t just scum.

  Except maybe in the end that’s all I really was.

  “Oh, Kyle.” Tears shone in her eyes now. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “It won’t ever be enough.” I could barely push out the words now. “Never. And I’m getting older, and soon I’m going to be exactly like my mother.” Washed-up, a has-been, or in her case, a-never-quite-there. Why hadn’t I seen it before? That was my destiny. What I’d been born to.

  I wanted to die.

  “Kyle,” Sister Rushton slid a hand over my shoulder. “I—I know what it’s like to want something.”

  How could she know? With her rich house and a husband who supported her? Then again, she was looking at me as though she did.

  “I didn’t know what else to do.” I didn’t want to add that Mom couldn’t come through, that she would try, but it wouldn’t happen. Not this. She would want to, but there was too much else. There were her headaches, the medicine, the tears in the night. She’d feel terrible, and I would feel worse for wanting so much. I was a lousy piece of garbage. I wanted it all to end.

  “It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” She pulled me close to her. James was right that she smelled good. Not sweet like that cheap perfume Mom kept putting on lately, but she smelled like food, like the earth, warm. She smelled like safety.

  Stupid.

  But I let her hold me as I sobbed. I saw the woman police officer peek in and leave hurriedly. Still, I cried.

  Sister Rushton kept holding me, and when I peeked at her face, I saw she was crying, too. Dante had said in his office that the ward was a family. For the first time, I dared to think it might be true. Maybe we could stay in this place. Maybe long enough for me to grow up. Mom would be happy, and James wouldn’t be around scary people.

  Yet if I couldn’t dance, I didn’t know if I really cared.

  The tears finally stopped, and Sister Rushton found tissues in her purse to wipe my face. “You are so beautiful without that black stuff,” she said softly, almost in a dazed voice. I knew she wasn’t saying it to hurt me but because she thought it was true.

  Dante came through the door with the officer before I was finished mopping my face. Or the bishop, I guess I should call him. He wore dress pants and a shirt, but no tie or jacket today. He looked from me to his wife. “Are we ready to go?”

  “They’re letting us take her?”

  He nodded. “Rikki’s on her way. She gave permission, and they’re releasing her to me. Thankfully, the store isn’t pressing charges since it’s her first offense.”

  “That’s a relief,” said Siser Rushton.

  I agreed. Such a relief that I wanted to cry again.

  Sister Rushton put a hand on my back. “Ready?”

  I nodded. The bishop put a hand on my shoulder as we walked out. It felt weird to have a man there, a man who wasn’t hung up on my mom. Well, he might be, but I didn’t think so, not with the way he looked at Sister Rushton.

  He walked us to her van, where he put Allia’s bicycle in the back. “I’ll meet you two at home.”

  Home. I wished it were my home.

  An old blue truck drew our attention as it squealed into the parking lot. Mom. She didn’t park properly before she hopped out the door and ran toward us. “What were you thinking? Kyle, you are in so much trouble I don’t even know where to begin!”

  Okay, this was weird. I’d expected her to be sympathetic and the Rushtons to be disgusted.

  “Maybe you could begin by signing the papers inside,” Dante said.

  Her glare didn’t leave me. “This is so not what I need right now. You have to be more responsible, Kyle. Shoplifting? Is that what I’ve taught you?”

  “Come on,” Sister Rushton touched her arm. “I’ll go in with you. Dante will stay with Kyle.”

  Mom’s face swung between the bishop and his wife for several seconds before she nodded. “Okay. But don’t go anywhere, Kyle.”

  I watched them walk across the parking lot. “Don’t worry,” the bishop said. “Becca will help her calm down. That’s not saying this isn’t serious, because it is. I’m glad to see your mother’s upset about it. I would be far more worried if she weren’t. It means she cares—about you and about doing what’s right.” He paused. “But I want you to know that we’ll get through this, and th
ings will be okay again if you’re willing to make amends. I’m glad you had the officer call me.”

  I didn’t have anyone else to call when Mom didn’t answer her phone, but he probably knew that. Silence stretched out between us.

  “Did you know my dad?” I asked. It was worth a shot.

  “No. I never met him.”

  “Me either.” It wasn’t something I thought much about, but at the moment it seemed huge. I ducked my head to hide fresh tears.

  “He was someone Rikki met after she left Utah.”

  After she left him, he meant.

  “She only wrote me once on my mission,” he added.

  I’d learned what a mission was on Sunday. “You went on a mission?”

  “When your mother and I were nineteen. That’s when she left Utah.”

  I’d had it all wrong. I thought my mother had left him, but it looked like he’d been the first to go.

  “I knew she wouldn’t wait,” he said, “but I think a part of me always hoped.” He chuckled. “That single letter she sent me cured me of that notion. She’d told me she was married. I was glad she’d found someone.”

  Someone who’d eventually left. Mom had been married twice, and both times had ended in divorce. Neither time had been to my father or James’s. She would have been better off waiting for the bishop. Of course, then she’d have had religious junk shoved down her throat each week. He was high on that sort of thing.

  The bishop’s cell phone rang, and he answered. “Hello? Hi, hon. Yeah, go ahead and feed them if it’s finished. We’ll be a bit longer. Kyle? She’s okay.” He paused to listen. “Okay. Love you, too, honey. Bye.” He put the phone away and smiled at me. “Allia. She says the boys are dying of hunger. Can’t have that.”

  I smiled. But how could I smile when my world had ended? When a few minutes ago, I wanted to be dead?

  More seconds ticked by, and I couldn’t help focusing on my own stomach that burned with hunger. “Do you think I could still go to that class tonight? Young Women’s?” I hadn’t eaten my free school lunch today, having sold it to someone else who’d forgotten his. Every little bit for my dancing fund. Homemade chili and bread sticks sounded better than anything my mother or I could whip up from a can.

  He smiled. “That’ll be for your mom to decide.”

  She’d probably ground me, and though most of the time that made no difference because she wasn’t around to enforce it, it would make a difference tonight.

  His eyes went beyond me. “Ah, here they are—finally.”

  My mom hadn’t been gone long enough in my opinion. My muscles clenched, the sore ones screaming in objection, ready for what she would do. This time Mom hugged me, enfolding me in her arms and her flowery aroma, and I didn’t mind the smell. Tears threatened to fall, but I didn’t want to cry anymore. Crying was exhausting.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I muttered. A part of me hoped Sister Rushton had told her why I’d done it, but another part of me didn’t want her to know. I knew it’d hurt Mom that I hadn’t gone to her, even though she’d always taught me to depend on myself. That’s the way life worked.

  Mom turned me toward the truck and gave me a little shove. “I’ll be by in a minute to get James,” she told the Rushtons. “Thank you for coming.”

  “No problem,” Dante said.

  Sister Rushton’s hand went out to my arm, and she leaned down to whisper in my ear. “It’s not over yet. Something will work out. Give it a few days.”

  I nodded and tried to smile, but it hurt too bad. She was only being nice. I hurried to the truck and watched them as my mom drove away. The bishop was hugging his wife. It made a beautiful, safe picture in my head. Allia was lucky for more than just having a hot brother.

  “So,” my mom said after a few moments of silence. “Why did you do it?”

  That meant Sister Rushton hadn’t spilled everything, maybe because she thought I should tell Mom on my own or because there hadn’t been enough time inside the station. Unless Mom was playing one of those parent’s traps on me. “It was stupid, that’s all. I’ll never do it again. I promise.”

  “Honey, if you need something for school, you need to tell me.”

  “I know. It was just a few pens.”

  “Eight packages?”

  I shrugged.

  “Kyle, this is serious—uh, stuff.”

  I couldn’t help smirking inside. She’d been going to swear again. Old habits and all that.

  “I know.”

  “I don’t want you to grow up and go to jail.”

  “I won’t.”

  She pulled over to the curb and killed the truck. When she spoke again, there was a coldness in her voice that made my stomach twist. “Your dad and I broke up because he couldn’t keep his hands off things that belonged to others.”

  “I thought you said he just left.”

  “He did, but only because I told him to choose us or stealing. I was tired of bailing him out, of people banging on our door looking for him. He didn’t make the right choice.”

  The knowledge stunned me. “My father was a criminal?”

  “He had a compulsion. I always thought he’d love us enough to overcome it and come back.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No. And I don’t know what happened to him. I looked for him a few months ago, but I couldn’t find him. He might have died. Or maybe he’s in prison.”

  I stared at her. There went my dream of finding my dad and having everything be miraculously okay. “And when were you going to tell me all this?”

  “I’m telling you now. How could I bring up something like that out of the blue? Look, Kyle, I made a poor decision when I chose him. He wasn’t ready to be a family man. Maybe he never would be. He was exciting, handsome, and kind of dangerous-looking. I thought it was love. I was wrong. He wasn’t a good person inside, where it counts. He felt the world owed him a living and he had every right to take what he wanted if he could get away with it. But what he did doesn’t reflect on you or me.”

  “Then why did you even look him up? If he’s such a jerk.” Maybe she was lying.

  She sighed. “I thought you might be curious. I was hoping he might have changed.” She started the engine again. “We’d better get James.”

  “I can’t believe you! You should have told me.” I folded my arms across my chest and glared out the window. I was never going to talk to her again. Hiding information about my father like that was lower than low. Worse, she probably wasn’t lying, and that meant I really did have a criminal for a father. My mind was in turmoil, and my stomach was still churning something awful, though that might be partly because it was empty.

  Mom started the truck, and when I glanced at her she seemed small and sad. I don’t care, I thought. But I did, and a little piece of me hated my father for hurting her, and I hated myself for being exactly like him.

  Except right now my stomach seemed more important than almost anything. I didn’t want to think about my mom’s feelings, about my dad, or how I would never be able to get the money I needed. “They’re having a meeting for the church girls tonight.” I tried not to sound angry as I spoke, but I failed miserably. “They’re learning to make chili and bread sticks, but I guess I’m grounded, right?”

  She didn’t immediately say no, so I pressed. “It’s not like it’s going to be any fun with those girls. More stupid church. But I need to learn how to cook.” I thought about adding something about how she never taught me, but that might be going a bit far.

  I waited as she thought it over. “Okay,” she said at last. “You can go, as long as you come right home afterward, but otherwise you are completely grounded. I’m letting you go only because it’s religious and because right now I’m rather upset with you, and I think it’s best that we aren’t together
for a while. But this isn’t over by a long shot, Kyle. We’re going to have a serious discussion about a punishment when you come home. And so help me, if I ever catch you stealing anything again, I will make your life miserable. We may be poor, but we are not cheats.”

  Not that kind of cheat, she meant, because I’d heard her lie plenty to get something she wanted for us or for herself, but if I wanted that chili and bread and to get away from her, arguing wasn’t going to get me far. Besides, I really didn’t care what she did to me. I couldn’t have what I wanted most, so what else mattered? “Okay,” I mumbled.

  At the Rushtons’ house, James came running out and Allia as well. “I’m about to walk over to Young Women’s,” she said as I opened the door for James to climb in. “I’d like you to come with me. Uh, that is if it’s okay with your mom.”

  I glanced at my face in the mirror. I looked horrible since I’d been crying. Big surprise there.

  “You can wash your face inside,” Allia said. “I’ll do your makeup.”

  That wasn’t promising—not that it really mattered what I looked like.

  “She can go,” Mom said to Allia. “What time is it over?”

  “We should be finished by eight or so. I think. Plus walking home time.”

  “Be home by eight-thirty or call,” Mom told me. “We’ll talk when you get home.”

  “Okay.” With relief, I slipped down from the cab of the truck and started to follow Allia, but James threw his arms around my waist.

  “I love you, Kyle.”

  I smiled. “I love you, too, James.”

  He released me and climbed into the truck. I saw Mom’s face over my shoulder, staring at me with an expression I didn’t understand. I never understood her anymore. Was that because I was growing up? I used to think I was lucky to have the best mom in the world, like James still believed she was, but different things were important now that I was growing up. I saw differently.

  For a moment I wished I could be seven again, that I could adore my mother without reserve. I love you, Mom, I thought.