A Thousand Reasons

by Mariah Dietz

  “You’ve been home a lot, and I haven’t seen you message him once since we’ve been here.”

  I release a deep sigh, my posture growing even worse. “My parents waited up for me a couple of weeks ago and accused me of not contributing enough, so I’ve been trying to pick up more shifts and help around the house.”

  “They accused you of not contributing enough?” Jasmine’s eyes narrow with accusation. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I was angry at first, too, but now I just feel guilty. I know you’re going to tell me I shouldn’t, but I do. I know they gave up a lot to help me go to private school. That was a debt we couldn’t afford, and still, they did it for me.”

  “Leela, you’ve been working since you were fourteen to help contribute financially. Ten years! Why aren’t they getting on Troy for not helping? Why don’t they care that Luna doesn’t get a job?”

  Her anger makes me almost regret telling her. While I understand her points and have asked myself the same questions numerous times, I don’t want Luna to have to work. I want her to enjoy high school and attend school dances and activities. I want her to be a kid. And with my relationship with Troy being so strained for so long, I don’t need additional ammunition to be angry with him.

  “Have you talked to Wes about things?” Jasmine asks when I take too long to think of a reply.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know what to say. How do I tell him that our water got shut off and I feel responsible?”

  “So, what does he think is happening?”

  “He knows I’ve been working more.”

  “But he doesn’t know why?”

  “He knows I have three jobs. I’m assuming he knows I need the money.”

  Jasmine drops her chin and stares at me. “You need to talk to him. Tell him you’re struggling to find a balance. You should also tell your dad to pull his head out of his ass and remember everything you do, but I know you won’t.”

  I sigh. “But I have missed a lot. I’ve barely seen you lately.”

  “That has far more to do with the fact that I’m working too many jobs and going to school at night. Besides, even if I weren’t, I’d want you to spend this time with him. This is when you’re supposed to be really excited and having fun in a relationship—the honeymoon phase. You know, before you realize he has obnoxious habits and his feet smell really bad.”

  “His feet don’t smell.”

  “Dammit!” she yells. “Eventually, we’re going to find his flaws. He has to have at least one.”

  A customer comes in, halting our conversation. When they leave, Jasmine turns to me. “What do you think about inviting him to Jordan’s birthday party tomorrow?”

  I stare at my best friend, confused by this suggestion.

  “He could come and meet everyone, and your parents could see how happy he makes you. Plus, I want to meet him. Make sure he’s not fictional.”

  My heart races with anticipation and nerves, considering the possibility of Wes coming and how everyone would react. “Are you sure? I don’t want Jordan to feel like he has to share his birthday crown.”

  “Are you kidding? The more people the better is his philosophy. He’ll love it.”

  “Okay. Let me see if Wes has anything going on tomorrow.”

  Jasmine nods. “Make it happen. I think if your parents see how happy you are, they’ll stop acting so stupid.”

  “Talking about parents acting stupid…” I grab a chocolate chip cookie and break it in half. I hand Jasmine the side with more chocolate chips and ask, “How are things going with your mom?”

  She lifts a single shoulder with a noncommittal shrug. “She got a part-time job with a woman cleaning houses. We’ll see how long it lasts.”

  “Do you think she’ll ever grow up and realize money isn’t going to randomly fall into her lap?”

  Jasmine sighs. “I think she feels like the world owes her something. My dad was a jerk and loser, Jordan’s dad was a jerk and a loser, her dad was a jerk and a loser, so I think she just assumes karma will eventually give her a break.”

  “It did. She has you and Jordan.”

  A thin smile spreads on Jasmine’s lips, and her cheeks blush. My best friend doesn’t know how to accept a compliment any better than I do. “I just remind myself that regardless of what she does or doesn’t do, I’m grateful I have you.”

  “Always.”

  “Come here and give me a hug so we can end this tender moment and I can return to guessing what’s wrong with your boyfriend.” Jasmine wraps her arms around me and squeezes. “I’ve got it! He picks his nose!”

  32

  Wes

  Leela: What are you doing tomorrow?

  Me: I’ve got some homework, but other than that I’m open. Why? Are you free?

  Leela’s been working more than usual, and while I know it’s not personal, it’s been difficult to stop the disappointment from impacting my mood.

  Leela: It’s Jasmine’s little brother, Jordan’s, birthday tomorrow, and we’re throwing him a party. It’s not a big deal, cake, ice cream, some gifts, and games for the kids.

  Leela: I don’t want you to think you have to come, because if you’re not ready to meet everyone, I will TOTALLY understand.

  Leela: I should mention my family will be there, so I don’t want you to feel like I’m tricking you into anything.

  Me: Breathe, Leela.

  Leela: I’m trying.

  Me: I’d love to come. Count me in. What should I get him?

  Leela: Don’t worry about a gift.

  Me: What? You want the kid to hate me? I thought you liked me? Why does it feel like you’re setting me up to fail?

  Leela: I can only have so many dramatic people in my life, and Luna and Jasmine already fill that quota.

  Me: How old is he turning?

  Leela: 7

  Me: Does he like super heroes? Legos? Movies? Video games?

  Leela: Super heroes-yes. Video games-he doesn’t have a system (and I’m not saying you would, but please don’t consider that as an option.) Movies-yes, but PG or under. Legos-I’m not sure, but he likes to build things, so I’m going to say probably.

  Me: Every kid likes Legos.

  Leela: I’ll take your word for it.

  Me: What time should I come?

  Leela: Party is at 1 p.m.

  Me: Should I bring anything else?

  Leela: No. And don’t be offended by this question, but if you don’t feel comfortable driving this far with your boot, just let me know. I’ll come and get you.

  Me: You just keep stroking my ego tonight, don’t you?

  Leela: I take it you want to be stubborn and drive?

  Me: I’ll see you at 1.

  Leela: You’re the best.

  Me: That’s what I’ve been telling you.

  I set my phone down and grin. People are easy for me. It’s easy for me to walk into a room and chat with complete strangers, and even easier when most of them are kids. Plus, having the chance to see Leela tomorrow—even though it won’t be alone—makes my mood shift and I’m a thousand times happier.

  I wake up early, nerves settling in my stomach with the realization that I’ve not met a girl’s parents since high school. I want to impress them. I want them to know that I care for and respect their daughter. I want them to like me.

  I take a shower, and head to the kitchen where Ace is already seated with a bowl of cereal. “Morning,” I say.

  “Hey,” she says. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Like a baby.”

  “You only have a few more days with the boot. Are you doing an official countdown?”

  “Like a kid waiting for Christmas.”

  She laughs. “I bet.”

  I grab a box of cereal from the pantry and sit across from her. “Got any fun plans for the day?”

  “Max and I are going on a date tonight since I have to be at the hospital on my birthday.”

  “That sucks.”

  Ace shrugs. “It
doesn’t bother me. But I’m excited for tonight. We haven’t gone out on a date in over a month. When you finally get to break free from that boot, you’re going to have to take Leela somewhere special. Do the whole flowers, dinner, dessert package.”

  “I don’t know if Leela’s that type of girl.”

  Ace tilts her chin and looks at me incredulously. “Every girl is that type sometimes. Trust me, we all enjoy being pampered.”

  I reach for my bottle of pills, tapping two into my palm. I swallow them and try to imagine if Leela would since I vividly recall her making mention of what would happen when I wanted to go somewhere she couldn’t afford. We’ve eaten together numerous times now, but it’s always somewhere quick and cheap, and she still frowns with discomfort when I tell her I want to pay.

  I’m about to explain this to Ace when I notice she’s staring at me. I raise my eyebrows in question, and she quickly shakes her head and takes the bite of cereal.

  “I didn’t realize you were still taking anything. You seem to be getting along much better.”

  “When I stand for long periods, the blood still pools and makes my foot sore.”

  “Have you talked to your doctor about that?”

  I pull my chin back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. I’m just saying if you’re still experiencing this much pain, you should probably talk to him. Maybe it’s not healing correctly or something.”

  “Or maybe I had my foot cut open and my Achilles tendon stitched back together.”

  Landon steps into the kitchen, calling out a good morning that neither Ace nor I return as we stare at one another for a prolonged moment. She’s the first to look away as she stands and carries her bowl to the sink. “I’m going to go get my nails done with Kendall. I hope you guys have a good day.” She leaves without giving me a second look.

  “Everything okay?” Landon asks, looking to the doorway Ace just disappeared through.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Does she think things are fine?”

  I stare at him. “Why are you allowed to poke around in our heads, but you never talk about what’s been bothering you lately?”

  He shrugs. “Something about my superiority and awesomeness.”

  Ease relaxes my shoulders as I laugh. “I was expecting you to tell me it’s because you know how to kill people with your pinky.”

  Landon pulls his chin back. “My pinky? You’re underestimating my strength.”

  I laugh harder. “Seriously though. What’s been bothering you lately?”

  He sits down across from me with his coffee and a bowl of cereal. “I was offered a new job.”

  I stare at him, waiting for him to continue with the downside. “And…” I prompt him when he starts eating.

  His gaze falls to the table. “It’s in Florida.” He takes another bite.

  “Florida?”

  Landon slowly looks up and nods once.

  “Are you going to take it?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, my family’s there and it’s a great opportunity, but…”

  “Not all family is blood,” I say. “I get it. You guys are my family.”

  Landon’s lips form a line and he nods again. “Damn straight.” He continues eating.

  I stand and clasp a hand on his shoulder. “But, state lines wouldn’t change that.”

  “Hell no.”

  He doesn’t elaborate further, and I don’t press him to. I’ve learned that some decisions we have to make for ourselves by ourselves.

  “You want to watch some football today?” Landon asks. “Or do you have plans with Leela?”

  “I’m actually going to meet her family.”

  Landon stops, his eyes rounding. “Really?”

  I nod. “Yup.”

  “Well, good luck with that, man. Are you ready?”

  “Yeah. It’s for a birthday party, so I’m thinking the mood should be light and this will be easy.”

  “I hope it goes smoothly.”

  “You and me both.”

  I get in my truck and head to the store. I haven’t been down a toy aisle in so long, it takes me three times longer than it should to pick out the right Lego set. I grab a card with a superhero and a bag for the gift, and make my way to the checkout line.

  I text Leela, asking for the address again, and head in the direction of her house with random thoughts bouncing around in my mind. Thoughts of how things will continue to change for us. About Max and Ace taking their relationship to the next step, and of Landon potentially moving. I think of how Jameson seems happier and how he hasn’t mentioned college or going to a part in several weeks now. Then my thoughts drift to Leela, and how her family will react to me.

  I arrive fifteen minutes early, and discover Leela outside tying a bunch of balloons to a mailbox. A smile breaks out across her face as she waves at me.

  It takes me a few minutes to get my seat belt off and shuffle my crutches and the gift free before I hop down, and head toward her, watching her smile grow. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks. So do you.”

  I lean forward and press a kiss to her lips. “You also look nervous.”

  She releases a quiet giggle, confirming my observation. “A little.”

  “Relax. This is going to be great.”

  Leela takes a deep breath. I wish I could hold her hand right now. It feels like that would be the right thing to do as we walk into her friend’s house. Instead, I have to tightly grip my crutches and carefully make my way up the steep and narrow steps.

  Though I’m early, several people are already here. Many have filled the kitchen, cooking and arranging food on different trays and plates. More are blowing up balloons, and others are seated and talking.

  “You must be Wes. I’m Jasmine,” a girl with long, dark hair approaches us, her hand extended in greeting. I already knew she was Jasmine because I’ve seen pictures of her on Leela’s phone.

  I smile, adjusting my weight so I can reach forward and shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I appreciate you inviting me. I’m looking forward to meeting everyone.”

  Jasmine looks from me to Leela, then back to me. “Are you sure you don’t have any brothers?”

  I shake my head.

  “What about cousins?”

  Leela laughs. “Ignore her. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Luna and my parents.” Jasmine follows us to the small group blowing up balloons. “Mom, Dad, Luna, this is Wes. Wes, these are my parents, Tom and Cindy, and my sister.”

  “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Walsh,” I say, again adjusting my weight and one of my crutches so I can shake his hand. He looks nothing like Leela. His hair is a dark shade of brown, and his frame is stocky, his eyes a light brown. He doesn’t smile, enunciating the many differences between he and his daughter. His grip is tight as he shakes my hand.

  “So, you go to school with Leela?” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence like this is a question, so I nod.

  “I do, sir.”

  He takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Wes,” Leela’s mom says. “You can call me Cindy.” She offers her hand to me with a smile that also doesn’t match Leela’s, though her eyes are a similar shade of green, and her high cheekbones are nearly an exact replica.

  “It’s very nice to meet you. Leela speaks of you both often.”

  Her dad looks to Leela with raised eyebrows. When she smiles, his lips quirk into a grin, exposing the first similarity between the two. “Does she tell you I’m a hard ass?”

  Leela frowns, shaking her head. “I knew I wouldn’t need to tell him, because you’d be acting like one as always.”

  Mr. Walsh laughs, and as he fully smiles, I see a little more of Leela. “Well, how about I get him a beer first before I grill him on his intentions and all that other fatherly stuff?”

  Cindy elbows him. “Stop,” she says, a smile teasing her features. “Be nice, he doesn’t
know anyone and won’t know if you’re serious or joking. He’ll go home thinking we’re all crazy.”

  “You all are crazy,” Luna says, sticking her hand out toward me. “I’m Luna.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She purses her lips as though calling my bluff. “Loosen up a little and toss in some sarcasm, and you’ll be fine. But you’ve got to stop being so polite or everyone’s going to give you a hard time.”

  Cindy places a hand on Luna’s shoulder, working to hide a smile. “I hate to admit that my daughter’s right, but it’s true. This group likes to give each other a hard time. But you’re going to fit right in. Just don’t take anything too personally.”

  I grin. “Sarcasm is my first language.”

  Cindy and Luna’s smiles both break free, looking genuine and honest.

  “Well, then you shouldn’t have a problem,” Luna says. “Unless you brought a bad gift.” She eyes the bag. “If you got him something dumb like a book, everyone will think you’re lame.”

  “Luna, will you stop!” Leela cries. “When he opens my gift and loves it, you’re going to be eating your words.”

  Luna shakes her head. “No kid wants books for their birthday.”

  “I did.”

  “But you were born forty.”

  Leela stares at her, tongue-tied.

  “Hey, Sis. Who’s this?”

  We all turn, facing a guy wearing a solid white tee and jeans a few sizes too big over his stocky build.