She kisses me. Softly. Slowly. It tastes like sadness. I wonder if all good-bye kisses taste that way.
Then she answers my question in an odd way. “Going to live with my family is what I have to do. What I want doesn’t matter.”
“Lauren, don’t you see? What you want matters most of all. You don’t have to.”
She changes the subject. “I’m sorry to break our date tomorrow night.”
I sigh. “Well, I did it to you first. I guess we’re even now.”
She’s still holding my hand as she leads me to the door. “Thank you for the gifts. I’ll paint the birds and send them to you. You can hang it in your locker.” She tries to lighten the mood. “All the guys will be so jealous.”
I reach out and hug her again. “I don’t want to go,” I whisper into her hair.
She pulls away. “You have a game to play, Number Twenty. The whole town is counting on you.”
“Benny’s flying in,” I tell her. “For the game.”
“Oh my gosh, that’s awesome!” she says. “See, you won’t miss me tomorrow night. You two will be up at Murphy’s Hill. Just like old times.”
I stare at her. “Lauren. I’m going to miss you. More than you know.”
She bites her lip. Looks at the floor for a moment before she finally says, “You should really go.”
“Stay in touch?” I ask.
She nods. “Absolutely.”
She holds up her hand, like she’s swearing. “I promise.”
It makes me think of my promise to Benny. To be happy. Right now, that seems completely and totally impossible.
When josh and Erica
come to my room later,
they appear uneasy.
They sit and tell me
that we’re making a big
mistake, rushing into this.
Josh called my mom
and talked to her some more.
“She’s living with some guy she met online,” he says.
“That’s why she moved there.
Lauren, I think she’s pretty messed up.”
I argue with them. I tell them it’s
because she’s missing her family.
I try to convince myself
as much as I try to convince them.
They ask question after question,
like I’m on trial for murder.
No, I don’t know for sure if she’ll get Matthew back.
No, I don’t know why he was taken away in the first place.
No, I don’t know when we’ll move back to Seattle.
Is it a crime to want to feel wanted?
Is it a crime to miss your little brother?
Is it a crime to try to fix your mistakes?
Finally I scream, “Why are you doing this?
They’re my family. I belong with them!”
“But maybe you belong with us,” Erica says softly,
like she has to be careful or
the words will crack and break.
I want to grab on to those words
and hold them tight. But I can’t.
The guilt and worry and sadness
I feel about everything
that’s happened won’t let me.
“Stay and let us help you. Let us be your family.
Don’t you see, Lauren? We love you.”
“But, you don’t trust me,” I say.
“Maybe at first, we didn’t,” Josh says.
“Because of things your mom said.
But we do now. Let us prove it to you.
Stay and let us show you.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” I say,
tears pooling in my eyes.
“I don’t want your pity.”
“No,” Josh says. “This is not pity.
This is so much more. Just ask the kids,
who are downstairs,
wishing and hoping you
don’t get on that plane.”
I think of the three of them, huddled
together, wanting a happy ending,
like one of their storybooks.
“But . . . my mom. And my brother.”
Erica takes my hand. Holds it.
“Your mom will be okay.
We’ll make her understand.
And we can visit your brother
as much as you want.”
It’s like a whirlwind of thoughts
in my brain and I’m in the middle,
trying not to get swept
away in the wrong direction.
“I really want to go to college.”
“Of course you do,” Josh says. “And you should.”
“I’ll get you lots of books to read.
About applications and financial aid.”
I smile through the tears.
“It’s not too late? To apply?”
“Not at all,” he says. “And we’ll help you.”
“I know it probably sounds weird,
but I think I want to study birds.
Like, I’m fascinated by them, and maybe
I can’t make a living doing that,
but I’d like to find out. To learn more.”
“Going to college is a great way
to explore your interests,” Josh says.
“Did you know we have a pair of mourning doves
nesting in the bushes in our backyard?” Erica asks.
“It’s almost winter,” I say. “Do they stay here?”
“Yes,” she says. “They don’t migrate.”
They stay here. Right here.
“Please, Lauren,” Josh says.
“Stay with us.”
Maybe I had it all wrong.
Maybe I’m a mourning dove.
Maybe I am
supposed
to stay.
I keep hearing the words I said to Lauren.
How can I be such a hypocrite? Telling her that, and yet not believing it for myself?
