“I made myself and Allison a lot of promises when we moved to Groveton and more importantly when I brought you back into my life. Your mother is a line I can’t cross.”
No, no, no, no. NO! This isn’t how our talk was supposed to play out. “But you have to.”
The room becomes suddenly restrictive and I stand. I need to get out. Everywhere I turn there’s a window or an entrance to another room. There’s not a damn door to the outside in this huge fucking room.
“Elisabeth,” says Scott real slowly. “Why don’t you sit back down?”
“You have to help her!” Because I can’t, and the realization cracks my sanity. “Send her to a rehab. Get her clean. She’ll be better then. You don’t understand. She never had a shot. We never had anything. No one ever helped us.”
“I sent her money,” Scott says softly.
There’s a roaring in my head and I freeze midstep. I’m in the kitchen and I have no idea how I made it here. “What did you say?”
Scott walks over to the island. “I sent your mother money every month. I opened a bank account for her and every month she drained it.
I wasn’t man enough to call you, but I was man enough to pay for my mistakes. Allison found the account a couple of months ago and thought I was having an affair. I brought her here, to Groveton, to prove to her that I wasn’t lying about you or your mother and when I got here I didn’t like what I found. So we stayed, but I promised Allison I would cut off your mother. She obviously wasn’t using the money to help either one of you.”
“You’re lying.” I slam my hand against the counter. “You’re fucking lying!” He has to be.
“I can show you the statements if you’d like.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t…. I can’t breathe. I can’t.
“Elisabeth,” says Scott. “Sit down.”
I try to suck in air, but my lungs won’t expand. Grabbing on to the side of the counter, I bend over in my search for oxygen. Scott’s wrong. He has to be wrong. Mom would never have done this to me. Never. Why can’t I fucking breathe?
“Elisabeth!” Scott shoves a stool out of the way and catches me as I fall to the floor. He sits beside me as I lower my head into my hands.
“Just breathe,” he commands.
My intake sounds like a wheeze and I feel as if my mind is splitting into halves.
“It’s okay,” Scott tells me.
But it’s not. Nothing is okay.
Ryan
BETH DIDN’T SHOW LAST NIGHT. I’m not surprised. My parents are back in town, plus Beth spent the whole day and into the evening at the hospital Saturday and needed a day to rest. I hoped she would come though. I only saw her for a few seconds on Saturday and that was in front of Scott. She seemed so broken. I need to hold her and tell her I love her and I need to hear the words back.
I’ll catch her before school begins and spend the day trying to put a smile on her face. Lacy, Chris, and Logan will want to help. Between the four of us we can distract her.
I open the fridge, pull out a Gatorade, grab my keys from the counter, and swerve to avoid steamrolling my mother. “Sorry. I’ll see you at the game later.”
And officially introduce Beth as my girl to my parents. There is no way either of them would make a scene in public.
“It’s early. Sit down.” Mom brushes past me.
She’s polished for the day. Dress pants.
Sweater set. Pearls. Mom will be on the social club prowl by lunch. Dad walks into the kitchen from the formal dining room and barely glances at Mom. The vacation was supposed to save their marriage. Last night they slept in separate bedrooms.
My keys jingle in my hand. “I have some stuff to take care of before school. Can we talk later?”
Mom eases into a seat at the table and gestures for me to follow. I cock my hip against the frame of the door instead.
“Fine.” Mom opens her right hand and like an accordion my condoms fly onto the table.
“Would you care to explain?”
My keys dig into my hand as I try to keep my anger in check. “You went through my room?”
“We’re your parents. We have the right.”
I survey Dad and he patiently stares at me from the other side of the room. Panic combines with nausea and adrenaline, but I’ll be damned if they see it on my face. How much did they go through? Did they find my plaque from winning the writing competition?
Did they turn on my computer? Did they find my stories? This is exactly how they treated Mark when he first came home from college this summer. Right before he told them he was gay.
“I counted them,” Mom says. “There’s one missing.”
I’ve never hated my mother before and, right now, I do. “What do you want?”
“Who is the girl?”
“I’m not telling you.” Not when Mom is going to downgrade Beth to the girl I used a condom with. Mom will take something that was beautiful and twist it into something dirty.
“Is it a girl?” Dad asks.
My grip on the Gatorade tightens. “What is wrong with you?”
Dad pushes away from the door frame with muscles tensed. Mom hops out of her seat and directly into the path of me and Dad. “We heard a rumor yesterday when we went to dinner. I know it has to be untrue because you would never go against our wishes. I would have discussed it with you yesterday, but you were out. I did what I had to do to get some answers.”
“You wait for me, Mom. You don’t go through my stuff.”
“Are you dating Beth Risk?” she demands.
“Or is she the girl you’re experimenting with?” asks Dad.
Mom spins. “Andrew!”
“Some girls you date. Others you have sex with. Boys do this.”
“I’m aware of your behavior in high school,” Mom says. “But my son will not be sleeping with one girl and dating another in public. Gwen deserves better than that. I deserved better than that!”
“Stop it!” I’m tired of the fighting.
“It was one night, Miriam!” Dad yells.
“Twenty-five years ago.”
I throw the Gatorade in my hand across the room. Glass shatters in the china cabinet and Mom holds her hands over her head. “Do you guys even hear yourselves anymore? Did you even bother listening to Mark? Do you even hear me? I’m not dating Gwen and leave Beth out of this!”
“Ryan!” Dad bellows, but Mom puts her hand up to silence him.
“Ryan,” she says slowly. Her hand plays with the pearls around her neck. “Beth Risk isn’t who you think she is. Gwen grew concerned when you continued to date Beth at school even after we forbade you to see her, so she went to her parents…again.”
I swear under my breath. Gwen doesn’t even understand the destruction she’s created.
Mom continues, “Don’t be mad at Gwen.
She cares for you and she did the right thing.
See, her father knows the truth about Beth. She didn’t move to New York with Scott all those years ago. Her father went to prison and her mother moved herself and Beth to Louisville.
Gwen’s mother knows the attendance clerk at Beth’s old school in Louisville.
“I’m sorry, Ryan, but sometimes children are destined to become nothing more than their own parents. Beth is a drug user. She’s been arrested and her reputation with boys at her old school…”
I don’t wait to hear anything else. “Does Gwen know any of this?” Because she didn’t before. Otherwise, she would have told me in order to break Beth and me up.
“Yes. She was there when her parents told us yesterday.”
With my keys tight in my hands, I turn my back to her.
“Ryan!” Mom calls from the kitchen. “Come back!”
She’s too late. I race out to the garage, start the Jeep, and peel out of the driveway. If Gwen knows, then that means she’ll tell the rest of the school.
Beth
SCOTT PULLS INTO A SPOT next to the front entrance of school and places the car in park.
We’re early. Neither one of us said much during breakfast. I didn’t eat. Neither did he.
“Are you sure you want to go today?” he asks for the tenth time. “I’m okay if you stay home. Allison and I heard you pacing downstairs so I know you didn’t sleep the past few nights. She’s worried about you and so am I.”
I’m too damned tired to even roll my eyes at the lie of Allison being concerned over me.
Mom and I were supposed to leave today. I was going to cut school and take a cab into Louisville. Then Mom and I would have left.
My insides feel tormented, battered, and bruised. Sort of like if Trent was allowed free rein over my organs. The worst sensation is the tightness in my lungs, the feeling of drowning.
I touch the ribbon on my wrist. “No. I want to go to school.” I need to see Ryan. He said I had roots here. I need to hear him say it again.
I need to laugh with Lacy. I want to smile when Logan and Chris egg each other on. I want to nail the anatomy quiz in science. I want to know that I’m not making the worst mistake of my life by leaving my mother behind.
My backpack sits on the floorboard and I hold my science book to my chest. I’m good at science. Really good. My teacher likes me.
Instead of yelling at me when I accidentally cursed while giving an answer, she laughed and winked. After class she told me to watch my fucking language. I earned a B on my last progress report and last week my teacher told me that I’m close to an A. Me, Beth Risk—I could get an A.
“I never wanted to tell you about the money.”
I shake my head and Scott stops talking. I’d rather not think about that. It still hurts too much. I try to wipe out the thoughts of Mom and money and how I’m leaving her behind with Trent. Instead I try to focus on Lacy. She called me her best friend and she asked me to stay the night next weekend. Since I left Groveton at the age of eight, I’ve never had a sleepover with a friend. She said we’d eat frosting and watch movies. I have a best friend who’s a girl.
“You don’t look good, kid.”
I hit Trent Saturday, which means he’ll hit her. I choke as I attempt to breathe. How can I do this? I can’t leave her behind. “Mom swore to me she’d never do heroin.”
“I’m sorry,” he says in a simple way. Kind of like when a child finds out that Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny doesn’t exist. He’s sorry that the fantasy is over, but happy I’ve entered reality.
Mom doesn’t fight back when Trent hits her.
I should go into Louisville. “Dad shot up heroin. He sold it too.”
Scott turns off the car. “I didn’t know.”
I’m leaving Mom behind, but I owe her. She never left me. “He wasn’t bad when he shot up.
Mostly he slept. The needles scared me. Mom got real nervous if I played too close to them.”
“What happened?”
Why didn’t Mom tell him? Or Shirley? Why do I have to do it? “Dad didn’t want me.”
“Your dad was young. He didn’t know what he wanted. It had nothing to do with you.”
