Counting Goodbyes

by Whitney Cannavina

  “Oh my god. Oh, I am so excited. Thank you, mom. Oh my god. You are the best.” We hug and jump excitedly in a circle laughing with elation. My mom deserves this. She has worked hard all her life supporting and taking care of us and she needs this break.

  “I’ve already mapped out some routes we can take but it just depends on what stops you want to make along the way.”

  “Let’s commemorate this with a photo.” I suggest. I didn’t want to forget the look on my mother’s face. It’s the look of finally getting to relax with all her hard work and hours she’s put in as a mother and workingwoman.

  I pulled my phone out and snapped a picture as she turned her face to see what time it was. The smile on her face was reached with not only her lips, but also her eyes and the glow of happiness she radiated.

  “We should go out, Kayla. We need to celebrate with dinner at our favorite restaurant.”

  “Tokyo sushi.” We both say at the same time causing us to crack up.

  I remember that day like it was yesterday. I had never seen her so happy. Now, she doesn’t even get to experience the one thing she worked so hard for. This summer was supposed to be the best summer we’ve ever had. Mom wouldn’t have to work, and she would get to go where she wanted and relax.

  I continue looking at the rest of the photos that are spread all over seeing all the smiling faces of the people in them with mom, but she outshined every one of them.

  Julia had sandwiches brought in and snacks for everyone who came to the wake in case anyone wanted to stuff their sorrows. Julia is my lifesaver right now speaking with everyone and making sure that all those who wanted to come to the funeral and wake knew where to go. She’s also made sure to give me as much time as I need to myself when things get to be too much. As I walk around trying to make sure to say thank you for being here to everyone, it’s hard to listen as they try to console me or tell me stories of my mom. I love hearing stories of her but that doesn’t make it easy to remember that she’s gone now. The stories are just reminders of my loss every time they say, ‘your mother was’.

  The man that was last to leave my mother’s grave never showed at the wake and honestly, I don’t blame him. Nobody really knew who he was, and I didn’t see him converse with anyone when he first showed up before the ceremony began. I’ve asked about him to all of my mother’s friends but none of them have a clue as to who he is.

  My mother’s family didn’t show up either, not that I’m surprised. Not once did they call, write or visit when my mother needed them most, so I shouldn’t have expected they’d come to the wake. I don’t know the whole story but what I do know is her parents were not happy about hearing she was pregnant. I figured if my mom never visited them and they never visited us that maybe there were more than just being unhappy about her pregnancy. Maybe they disowned her, who knows but I am not going out of my way for them when they couldn’t even stick around for the wake and apologize for missing out on eighteen years of our lives.

  I have no idea how long the wake lasted for but about two hours in I was done. I couldn’t take it anymore and I went to Lacy’s room to be alone. Just as I laid my head on my cushiony pillow, Lacy peered in and saw me laying there, looking desolate. She snuck in quietly and came to console me. Facing the wall, I scooted over to make room so she could rest behind me. Wrapping her arm around me, Lacy gave me comfort without words.

  I have never had a drop of alcohol, nor have I contemplated doing drugs, but today I want to drown myself in something to take away the pain. I heard that if you drink enough the pain goes away, or if you smoke enough you start to forget. I want that, the problem is my mother raised me right and I know that I am supposed to go through this without masking the pain so that I can come out stronger in the end. Tomorrow is a new day and I plan to start moving forward and push through the hurt. But for today, I am just going to feel it.

  All of it.

  The next day Lacy and Julia take me back to my house and help me go through all of our things. I’m moving in with them until child services decide what to do with me. Normally, children are thrown into foster care until they find a relative willing to take them in, but because I begged them to let me stay with Julia and Lacy they gave in and agreed to let me stay there until they find a relative willing to take me in. Julia immediately signed the temporary guardian papers without hesitation.

  Lacy packs up my room making sure everything boxed and bagged had a label on it while Julia went through the kitchen and living room. Most of the stuff in the house will be donated, but all of our pictures and personal items will be going with me. Julia knew this, so she’s made sure to pack only the requested items.

  Apparently, my mother had a will that I didn’t know about. I was contacted by a lawyer a few days ago saying he would like to meet with me to go over what is written in the will. I will be meeting him at my place with the other parties listed this afternoon, so I am trying to get as much done as possible before they get here. I go through my mom’s room bagging up her clothes to give to Goodwill while all her personal effects such as letters, photos, and anything else that’s personal gets boxed up for me to go through later. I have a truck coming to pick up all of the furniture and clothes tomorrow to take to the Goodwill store, so I don’t have to deal with trying to sell it.

  Once everything has been packed, Lacy and her mom load up their cars with all the bags and boxes that I’m taking with me and leave to drop it off at their house while I wait for the lawyer to show up. I have no idea who all is on this will, but I know Julia and I are listed, so Julia will have to hurry back after they unload the cars.

  About twenty minutes later the doorbell rings and I open it to see an old portly man in a grey business suit with a briefcase standing on my front porch. Ushering him in, I introduce myself and offer to grab us both a glass of water. He informs me there will be one other person who is listed meeting here too, aside from Julia and me, and I become curious as to whom else my mom would add to her will.

  The lawyer goes over the basics with me explaining that there really isn’t much listed in the will but there is information that is important to my livelihood. I nod, not really caring about what my mother is giving me because all I need is the photos of her, so I will always be able to look at her as time goes by. We chat for a little while before I hear Julia announce she’s here and that a man is outside whom is also here for the reading of the will. I ask her to let him in and am curious as to who this man is, and what he means to my mother.

  Once they step in the living room and I turn to great this mystery man I’m surprised it’s the same guy from the funeral yet, at the same time I’m not. Obviously, he meant a lot more to my mother than I thought just as she meant a lot to this man. I decide it’s time I introduce myself and figure out what he has to do with my mom.

  “Hi. I’m Makayla Fitzgerald and you are?”

  “Nice to meet you Makayla. I’m Levi Fitzgerald. I’m guessing I’m your father.” He speaks quiet and slowly so I understand the severity of his words.

  Shock.

  Completely, numbing, shock.

  My world tilts and slowly starts to fade to black as I fall into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 3

  We don’t meet

  people by accident.

  They are meant to

  Cross our path for a reason.

  -Unknown-

  “Are you alright Kayla? You scared me half to death.” Julia worries over me as I start to sit up after my fainting spell.

  Father.

  I have no idea how I am supposed to feel at this moment. Shock and confusion are all I can come up with. I always thought that if I ever met my father, it would be under my conditions. I would be the one to choose when and where I would meet him and if I wanted to meet him. I expected that I wouldn’t hate him, but I wouldn’t want to know more than just who he was, so I could say I met my father and I’ve moved on. He’s never given reason for me to not want to see him, but I always
was content with having just my mom, so it was never a big deal to me to have him in my life or not.

  These feelings that are running through me are confusing because I never thought I would have so many emotions as I do now. The feeling of relief and curiosity are most prominent with some apprehension. Relief that I finally have some sort of family again, curiosity for why he’s here when none of us had any clue as to whom my father was, aside from my mom, and apprehension; not knowing if he is here for me or for himself. Maybe he doesn’t want me and is just here to let me know that he doesn’t want me disrupting his life. I’m also nervous about if he does want me. Where will I live? Does he have a wife and kids of his own? Is he taking me in because he wants to or because he feels obligated to? There are so many things to consider with him showing up here and now.

  “I’m fine. I think I was just surprised and with all that I’ve gone through this week that was the last straw.”

  I was moved into the living room and laid onto the couch when I fainted. As I sit up, I see that everyone is looking at me with worry in their eyes. Even the man who claims to be my father seems worried about me.

  “I probably shouldn’t have been so blunt with my admission, but I just don’t know how to go about telling someone that I’m their father. I’ve never had to do it before.”

  “It’s fine. I just was not expecting you to be here. Well, here at my house. I always thought you never knew about me.”

  “I didn’t know about you until just a few days ago. Your grandmother called me to tell me about Alexis and she said that I needed to come and meet my daughter.” My father seems genuinely hurt that he never knew about me and I feel bad that he never got the chance. I know why my mother did this, but I never considered how my father would feel.

  “I’m sorry. I honestly never thought much about meeting you. I just never saw the point when my mom was everything I needed. I don’t think my mom hurt you intentionally though. If you want, we can… I don’t know… go to lunch and I can tell you a few of the stories my mom used to tell me about you and her and why she left.”

  It’s a step I’m not sure I’m ready for but my mouth apparently has no filter. The shock of everything seems to have fogged up my brain as I offer to spend time with him when I still am unsure what his agenda is.

  “That would be great. We have a lot to discuss and lunch would be the perfect time to do that.”

  I nod knowing he’s right. He smiles at me with reassurance that all will be ok, and I know now that the feeling I had while standing next to him at mom’s grave was true. My life has been forever changed and I have no doubt there will be even more changes to come.

  ****

  That night, Lacy and I stayed at my house in my mom’s bed. I’m not ready to let go just yet. I need to hang on just a little bit longer, so I can memorize her scent that clings to the pillowcase. I want to feel the warmth and comfort of her bed. When I sleep in here, I can almost forget that she is no longer with me. I can pretend for just a little while that I am five years old and sleeping in her bed after waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. Lacy stays with me making sure I don’t have another panic attack and for moral support. Having her here with me is comforting and I’m grateful I have her as my best friend. I don’t know what I would have done without her or her mom.

  “So, what do you think about your dad?” She quietly asks.

  “I don’t know. I never really thought much about him. I asked my mom when I was little, then as I got older I always figured I’d meet him eventually but on my terms with no pressure. But hearing what the lawyer said about him needing to sign papers to have legal custody of me or give me up and let Julia care for me, I’m worried. What if he only signed them because he felt bad for me? What if he doesn’t actually want me? Maybe he’s a jerk. Or maybe he has a whole other family and they hate me.” Lacy squeezes my arm in reassurance. “There are just so many what ifs and unknowns.”

  “I’m sure everything will be fine. And so, what if he has a family. Do you know what that means? It means your family has grown. They might not be so bad. You gotta give it a chance though.”

  “Ok Yoda.” We chuckle.

  “You bet your ass Luke!”

  “Shut up. I know I need to give him a chance. He seems kind. I don’t think my mom would have dated him had he not been at least a little nice. But it’s been years since she had seen him and maybe he’s changed.”

  “You will know more about him tomorrow. You can grill him about his likes, dislikes, his home, family, life… Anything.”

  “I know. But that also means he can ask me anything.”

  “What questions are you worried about, Kayla?” Lacy furrows her brow. It’s not like I have anything to hide.

  “The questions about my mom.” Then it dawns on her that this may be difficult, more difficult than we imagined.

  “I see. Do you want me to go with you? I can be your moral support and deflect him when you get uncomfortable. You know I can distract anyone with my quick wit and funny anecdotes.” I chuckle. If anyone could divert someone’s attention and make them forget what was being said, it’s Lacy. She could give an interrogator a run for their money with her deflection techniques.

  “No. You’re right that I need to do this. It’s the only way I can get any answers. I’m just nervous. There are so many things that can go wrong.”

  “There are also so many things that can go right. Think positive. And if it’s horrible, then we will run off together. Head to Australia, France… Wherever we want and make our money painting pictures.” Lacy always knows how to put things in a new light for me and I am grateful. Her optimism helps alleviate my fears.

  “Thanks bestie.” I hug Lacy tight.

  “Any time. Now let’s watch some horror films with lots of gore and death.”

  “Oh yes. Because that’s healthy.” I reply with sarcasm apparent in my tone.

  “You know you love them.” She’s right. I do love horror films. They tend to make you realize at least you didn’t get chopped up by crazy people. I guess it’s my way of looking up.

  The next day, I meet my dad at the café a few blocks over. It’s one my mom and I went to once a week for breakfast every Sunday since I could remember. I need my mom with me and this is the closest I can get. I need all her strength and comfort while I have my first real conversation with my dad that doesn’t include apologies and legal papers. When he came to the reading of my mother’s will, there wasn’t much said after the initial shock of finding out he was my father. We introduced ourselves a second time, and then after the legal papers were signed, we made a lunch date for today to get to know each other. That was pretty much it.

  He’s still not here and I start to fidget with my notecards as I wait. It’s nerve wrecking, the anticipation of getting to know someone. He’s my father and in a week or so I will be living with him officially. That’s not much time to get to know each other, especially since both of us have so many last-minute things to go over. Receiving my transcripts so I can sign up for school when I move with Levi to Texas. Changing all my information over to my soon to be new address. Making sure everything else gets forwarded to me. Packing my last-minute supplies and boxing the rest up officially to be shipped to my dad’s house. Saying goodbye to all my friends. There’s just too many things and not much time to digest.

  I go over my notecards for the millionth time wondering where I should start with my interrogation. There are so many things I want to know but that could take all day if I asked. Trying to decide which ones are most important is the issue because I am sure that all of the answers I am seeking will be long and detailed. As I try to decide which questions to ask first, I pay little attention to the hustle and bustle of the people around me. It’s lunchtime so the café is busy and loud as usual, which suits me just fine. I would rather not have the patrons around me be able to hear our conversation. I know. It’s ironic to want privacy in a café filled with customers, but I a
m not quite ready to have my father in my home with all the memories of my mom and I growing up.

  “This place is packed. Is it always like this?” Levi’s voice startles me as I gape at him wide eyed. I didn’t even notice him walk up let alone slide into the booth across from me.

  “Oh, umm… yeah sometimes. Usually for breakfast and lunch.” I glance around me, trying to see it from his perspective. “This is moms and mine go to place I guess you could say.” Understanding lights his face as I try to keep the tears at bay. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.

  “Did you order already? I’m starving. What do you recommend?” My father effortlessly changes the subject and lightens the mood with just a few simple questions and I am grateful. Answering these questions is easier than what I am sure he plans to ask later.

  “No, I haven’t ordered yet. Mom and I usually get the double stacker pancakes with bananas or the burger combo.”

  “Sounds like Lex. She’s always loved bananas on her pancakes. I thought it was weird that she lived by it.”

  “Yup. She got them every time we came for breakfast.” I smile at the memory. God, I miss her.

  We order our food when the waitress stops by as we both sit back staring at each other, gauging one another and waiting to see who will go first. I decide to get right down to it. I need this. I need some answers and now, only my father can give them.

  “I, uh, I guess I have some questions.” He nods with a small, encouraging smile. “How come you never searched for my mom… after she left I mean.” This has always bugged me. My mom talked a lot about my father when I was little, and I was curious, but she never answered a few of the whys. Like why he never came after us, why she never told him later on, why we couldn’t be a family.

  “I did. I begged her parents to tell me where she went, I questioned her friends, and went to several places I thought she might be but found nothing. All she left me was a letter telling me she was sorry but that she loved me, and she had to leave.”