A Special Obsession
Page 18
“Stoppppp! Honey B, pleeeeaaase staaahhhpppp!” His legs fly out kicking as I pull up his shirt and blow a raspberry. Mokey is barking like mad. When we finally stop, because both our cheeks hurt from laughing, we flop on our backs to find Weston and Jeb as our audience.
Weston asks Jeb, “Does this happen a lot?”
“Oh, usually every Sunday that I’m aware of.”
“Hmm. Looks like fun. Are we allowed to join in?”
Jeb eyes Weston and says, “You could probably get away with it.”
Out of the blue, Cody says, “Hey, Spesh, will you tell me a story about my mom?”
All the air rushes out of me. I see Jeb motion to Weston they should leave us, and they do. Cody and I lie on the chilly grass, and I start talking about my best friend. The one I shared everything with, from periods to sex—the person who I still miss every day.
“Your mom was amazing, big guy. She was the best. The greatest friend in the world. But what she wasn’t was a good athlete. She couldn’t throw a ball for anything.”
“How come?”
“I dunno. She couldn’t even run without falling flat on her face.”
Cody’s eyes widen as he bursts out giggling. “She wouldn’t have done good in football then, huh?”
“Nope, not at all. One time we decided to try out for cross country. Sasha never made it past the first day. She tripped, fell, skinned her knees, and was a bloody mess even before the practice started.”
Cody giggles again.
“Big guy, you shoulda seen her. She was covered in Band-Aids from her knees to her elbows.”
“Were they the Batman ones?”
“Nah, I think they were the Superman ones. But it was like her feet were on backward. Sports and Sasha were not friends.”
“Did you make the team?”
“Yep, I did. And hated it because my best friend wasn’t on it. But Mimi wouldn’t let me quit. She said, ‘O’Malleys aren’t quitters.’ And you need to remember that, dude.”
“I’m not a quitter.”
“No, you’re not, and your mom wasn’t one either. She never gave up trying.” And she didn’t. “Even though she wasn’t good at sports, she wasn’t afraid to try.”
“I’m not afraid.” He sits up and wears a determined look, one that reminds me of his mother. “I’m never going to be afraid of anything.”
“Is that so? What about dog poop in your lunchbox?” I go in for a massive tickle as he screams bloody murder.
By the time we get back inside, Mimi has the table set. She’s corralled Weston and Jeb into helping her and I can tell she loves the attention.
“Are we ready?” Cody asks.
“I think so, but you two need to wash your hands,” Mimi says.
Cody and I go into the bathroom to quickly scrub our hands. When we return, we’re ready to eat some delicious food.
Mimi stands at the table and asks, “Who would like to cut the turkey?” She gazes pointedly at Weston.
He flushes, stands there awkwardly, then he admits he’s never sliced into one before.
“Well, how about I show you how then?” Mimi asks.
I’m standing next to Weston, so I grab his hand and say, “Mimi’s the best turkey slicer in Georgia. If you want to learn, she’s the one to show you how.”
“I’d like that very much.” He moves next to her and she instructs him as he does the honors.
“Oh, Mimi, I can smell it over here,” I say.
“Me too,” Jeb says.
“Me, three,” Cody chimes in. Then he claps his hands and says, “Are we gonna say Grace? And who’s Grace anyways?”
Mimi answers him by saying, “Cody, it’s not a who but a what. We are thanking God for all our blessings.”
“Oh.”
Once the turkey is sliced, we sit and join hands for the blessing. Mimi does the honor, and at the end Cody gives us a loud Amen. That kid. I wish I could bottle him up and carry him everywhere.
The dinner is delicious. As we’re eating, Cody yells out, “Don’t eat too much or else you won’t have room for punkin sprise!”
Weston finishes swallowing and asks, “What’s that?”
“I don’t know, but that’s what we’re having,” Cody answers.
Weston glances at me, and I have to bite down on my lips to keep from laughing. Punkin sprise is Cody’s translation for pumpkin pies. I have no idea how he came up with that, but I’m not going to correct him.
Then Cody asks, “Mimi, may I have some more mashed potatoes?”
Weston hands me the bowl, and I scoop up another serving for him. “Cody, one day I’m going to come into your room to wake you up, and when I pull back the sheets, I’m going to find a potato in your bed instead of a boy.”
He’s puzzled for a second, but then lets out a hearty laugh. I have to gently remind him not to laugh with his mouth full of food.
“Sorry.”
After dinner, we all decide to wait until later for our dessert, and we end up watching the movie Christmas Vacation. Cody laughs, but the adults find it funnier. We have an intermission for dessert, and Jeb takes off right when the movie ends.
Cody is nearly falling asleep, so Mimi puts him to bed. He says goodnight to us both as he drags his feet to his room. Weston and I sit up talking. When Mimi returns, she tells us she’s going to bed. But her next words throw me for a loop. “Weston, I think you should spend the night here. You can sleep in Special’s room, and she can sleep with Cody. That way you don’t have to drive back into town tonight. Well, goodnight, you two.” She disappears, leaving the two of us staring at each other.
25
Weston
Special and I gawk at each other after her grandmother’s suggestion. It’s a little more than awkward and quite obvious Mimi’s trying to play matchmaker.
“It’s probably best if I leave now.”
“Is that what you want?”
Talk about a loaded question. Of course, that’s not what I want. “No. I want to spend more time with you.”
“Then why would you leave?”
After an exaggerated shrug, I answer her. “I get the feeling you want me to.”
“You do?”
“You don’t?” I ask.
She laughs. “Not at all.”
It takes everything in me not to touch her silky hair or the smooth skin on her cheek.
“Hey, did you bring any other clothes?”
She must be able to tell by my facial expression I think it’s an odd question.
She elbows me, saying, “There’s a reason for my asking.”
“Actually, I did. I usually carry around a change of clothes when I go to my parents’ house. They stress me out so much I end up in the warehouse afterward trying to relax.”
She swivels around on the couch and rests her arms on her thighs. “I have an idea. That is, if you don’t mind getting a little chilly. Did you bring a jacket because the temperature has probably plunged by now?”
Holding my finger in the air, I say, “Got one of those too. I drove the truck and I have all kinds of things in it.”
“Perfect. Go grab your things. I’m going to throw on a sweatshirt, some boots, and get my coat.”
By the time I get back inside, she’s waiting in the living room. She shows me to her room where I can change and tells me I can leave all my things in there. It doesn’t take me long to jump into a pair of jeans, sweater, and work boots. Grabbing my jacket, I meet her back in the living room. She grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. It’s impossible not to notice how much larger mine is than hers.
“I want to show you something. It’s one of my favorite places here.”
“I’d like that.” I don’t go on to tell her I’d like to learn about every one of her favorite places. We need to go slow.
She leads me through the barn and up a ladder to the hayloft. Once there, she opens a set of doors used to toss out bales of hay and we sit with our legs dangling off the edge. Th
ere’s an old quilt up there that she covers us with. It’s a cloudless night, and hundreds upon hundreds of sparkling stars lighting up the inky sky.
“Wow, this is quite a gift,” I say.
“Isn’t it? You can’t get this living in the city. Sasha and I used to come here all the time. We were a lot alike. At first I envied her because she had a mom and dad. I didn’t. My mom is a flake. She rolls in here periodically when the urge strikes. She’d pop in when I was a kid, then leave. I used to cry like crazy when she left. Now that I have Cody, I can’t imagine how she did it. It kills me to leave him all week. How could she do it over and over?
“Sasha and I used to say we’d rather live at each other’s house. As we got older, I finally understood why she would want trade places. Nothing was ever good enough for her parents. She wasn’t tall enough or pretty enough. They were so critical. I saw the trouble coming before it began. I even had Mimi call her mom and dad. Wanna know what they told her?”
I don’t say it, but I can only imagine how rude they must have been. “Tell me.”
“They said, ‘Mind your own business, old woman.’ I’ll never forget it. All she was trying to do was help. We both worried Sasha was going to commit suicide one day.” She rests her head on my shoulder. “But I never imagined.”
“I know I’ve asked before, but how did you find out? About Sasha?”
She chews on her nail for a second, and then words spill from her like water out of a faucet.
“I got a call, then a text, begging me to come to L.A. That’s where she was living.” She stops, becoming nostalgic for a moment. “Sasha had that kind of ethereal beauty you rarely see. Pale skin, ice blue eyes, blonde hair and not from a bottle either. We were complete opposites. She was the light to my dark. She said she was going to L.A. to model or act. But I knew better. It was to escape her parents. I begged her to stay, where I could keep watch over her if she got into a bind. But she was already using by then. She wouldn’t listen.”
“And?” I nudge her.
“And she left and never returned.”
“But you must’ve spoken with her.”
She clears her throat. This must be brutal for her to tell. “I did. She got into trouble with the wrong people.” Her fingers fidget with the quilt. “You know, I haven’t been up here since …” She stops suddenly and I glance over at her. It’s clear the memories upset her.
I put my arm around her to offer her comfort and say, “You don’t have to say any more.” I don’t notice she’s crying until her body trembles from the force of her sobs.
She scrubs her cheeks with the backs of her knuckles. “But that’s just it. I never talk about Sasha to anyone other than Mimi. You’re the only person I’ve ever brought up here.” She cries a little more, then reins it in somewhat. “Today, Cody wanted me to tell him a story about her.” She chuckles through her tears. “I told him about the time she tried out for cross country and what a disaster it was.”
“Cody needs to hear those things. Keeping his mother’s memory alive is important.”
“Weston, I miss her so much. When Cody asks me about her, it’s so hard not to break down in front of him.”
“Why can’t you get emotional sometimes? Why can’t he see how much she meant to you and how you still miss her?”
“Because I don’t want him to see me cry.”
“Why? Crying doesn’t make you weak. It shows you loved and cared about her.” I pull her hand into mine and give it a squeeze to let her know I’m here for her.
“God, I just wish it would stop hurting so much. Every day I think maybe the big gash in my heart will finally close. But it’s still there after all these years. I’m not sure there are enough stitches in all the hospitals in Atlanta to sew my heart back together.”
Jesus, she’s really been through hell. “How long has it been?”
“Three years. But it seems like yesterday. This barn makes me miss her so much. It’s why I stopped coming up here. I thought being with you would make it easier.”
“Maybe you’ve been wrong in not coming up. Being here brings you closer to her, so maybe you should do it more often. Some people believe you can feel the presence of a loved one in places that were special to them.”
Using her free hand, she swipes her face again. “I guess. I want to raise Cody and try to create some happiness in his life. I don’t want him to be a troubled kid like his mom was. I’ll do everything I can to ensure his life is as good as it can be, even though his mom won’t be here for it. I know that’s what she’d want.”
“Can I tell you something?” I ask.
“Anything.”
“Cody is one lucky kid. I would’ve given anything to have been raised by two women like you and Mimi. You are the most loving, wonderful people I’ve ever met. And the way that boy looks at you. Well, the sun rises and set with you, Special. He adores you. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Special looks up at me, and even in the dark night her eyes sparkle. Whether it’s from the sheen of her tears or the reflection of the bright moon, I can’t say.
“That’s a sweet thing to say. And I agree with you about Mimi. I know firsthand because she raised me. But Cody’s young, and who knows what’ll happen when he hits the teen years.”
“You’ll do the best you can. I have a feeling you won’t put up with any crap and you’ll continue to love him with all you’ve got.” The more we talk, the more I realize what a big heart Special has.
“Yeah, I imagine I will. That kid has me wrapped around his little finger already, even though he doesn’t know it.”
As I listen to her, I wonder why she chooses to live apart from Cody. It seems like a simple solution to move him into the city. So I ask, “Why don’t you move Cody in with you?”
“I’d love to, but with my long hours, I’d have to hire a nanny.”
“Seems to me you already have one.”
She looks at me sideways. “And who might that be?”
“Mimi. Move her along with Cody.”
Special raises a hand to rub her neck. “Could you give up your warehouse?”
“Okay, I see where you’re going with this, and Mimi wouldn’t give up the farm. But maybe if you explained it to her. Told her how much you miss him and how it would make everyone’s life easier.”
Special isn’t buying it. She crosses her arms as her brows arch. “You don’t know Mimi and her history with the land.”
“Mimi did mention to me that Cody needs more friends and that she was afraid she was getting too old to handle him. She said he needs more activities, like sports. He would get that in the city.”
She nods. “Tell me more.”
“He could enroll in club sports—football, soccer, basketball even. There are plenty to choose from. People at work talk about it all the time.”
“Isn’t he a little young for that? He’s only in kindergarten.”
“You’re right. But if you move within the next year, it would give him a chance to settle in before joining a team.”
“He does love sports,” she says. “He’s always begging to play catch. And Mimi can’t bring him in from the farm to participate during the week.”
“And it’s easy to see how much you love him. I can only imagine how much you two miss each other.”
Her arm sweeps out in front of her. “But all this would be gone. I’d never be able to see these stars again.”
“Not true. You could get a blanket and take Cody to the park. And you’d have Cody every day instead. Isn’t that worth the price?”
“Worth every star up there.” Her hand reaches toward the heavens.
“I can talk to Mimi if you want. Maybe I could influence her,” I say.
“Maybe Jeb can talk to her too.”
The silence of the night envelopes us, and I think about how content I am sitting here with her next to me.
“Hey, thanks for listening tonight.” Her hand gives my thigh a gentle squee
ze through the quilt. Glancing at her, our eyes meet and lock. Her face is upturned and I know I should stop, but I can’t. My lips start to descend. All the while we stare at each other, the moonlight reflected in her irises. When my mouth touches hers, I hear the soft intake of breath. With great restraint, I pull back, only to return again with gentle brushes over every part of her lips. It’s only when those lips part that I allow myself to kiss, really kiss her. My brain screams at me to stop, but I ignore it. Special is the balm for my wounds, to my soul that’s been scraped raw. She’s the air for my oxygen deprived lungs, the water for my parched body. But she’s also my friend, and if I don’t end this, I will destroy what we’ve built.
“I’m sorry,” I say, releasing her.
She places a hand on her lips, but doesn’t speak.
“I didn’t mean—”
I don’t have a chance to say another word before she jumps to her feet and climbs down the ladder. I watch as her shadowy figure sprints across the field.
The magic of the moment is gone. What remains is a hollow pit at the bottom of my stomach.
26
Special
My brain tells me to keep running, so my feet carry me across the pasture straight to the woods that border Mimi’s property. I don’t stop until I hit the creek. It’s still dark, but the sound of water rippling over rocks lets me know where I am. As my eyes adjust to the surroundings, I stop where the gray ribbon of water winds its way through the dense growth of trees. It reminds me of Sasha.
I see us as young girls, splashing around in the heat of the summer, cooling down in the creek. We loved to come here. Mimi would scold us when we’d get home, dripping wet and laughing. Then as we grew older, we would spend hours here, our feet on the sandy bank, toes immersed in the cool water, as we talked about the boys we liked. Finally, it was here where Sasha would come when she had nowhere else to go. I’d find her strung out and would drag her home. Mimi and I tried to coax her to go to rehab. Our last-ditch effort had failed, and that’s when she went to L.A. instead.