Forever for a Year(83)

I scooted over on the couch and curled up and laid my head on her lap like I was just a kid. I wasn’t just a kid anymore, I know. But my mom saying that made me feel it would be okay to be a kid again for at least tonight.

*

Valentine’s Day was on a Thursday, a school night, and Trevor had a basketball game on the 15th so we were going to celebrate on Saturday the 16th. We were going downtown on the train and back to the Metropolitan Club. It was our favorite date, and I think we wanted to go back in time. We were so young then. And virgins. And young.





74

Trevor buys two sweaters

My parents went out on Valentine’s Day. Dressed up, all that crap. Lily and I stayed home, ate sandwiches and cookies, watched cartoons. My parents came home looking so happy. Like they were in love. Like they were the perfect couple. It annoyed me—because of course they were a total sham—but it also made me smile, and it made Lily smile, which made me smile even more. Because I wanted my parents to think they could be the perfect couple even if they couldn’t be.

Then my mom sat down next to us, hugged Lily, and starting watching TV.

My dad said, “Lily, time for bed. Ashley, why don’t we go to bed too?”

“I want to watch cartoons with the kids for a bit. You go. I’ll be there soon,” she said.

My dad almost argued. You could see he was sad. He wanted sex, didn’t he? Holy crap. I could tell my dad wanted sex. And he was sad his wife didn’t want to have it with him. Now that I had had sex, I could see stuff like this. He turned around, disappeared up the stairs.

“I think Dad wants you to go spend the rest of Valentine’s Day night with him,” I said to my mom once my dad was out of sight.

“I think you should mind your own business,” my mom said. Didn’t even look at me. And there was something about how she said it. Like it was about more than what I’d just said. Like she knew I had sent that note or seen her texts. Her knowing and telling me to mind my own business made me want to yell, Fuck you, Mom, but I didn’t. I would never swear like that in front of Lily. So I got up, went to my room, and debated how and when I would tell my dad his wife was having an affair. But I knew I couldn’t do it. Because if my dad knew, he’d divorce my mom and we’d probably move back to California with him (because he was the only one even remotely qualified to be a parent). And I’d rather die than go to California without Carolina. I’m not even joking.

*

My dad went on another trip early the next day. At breakfast, my mom said she was going to visit her friend Paula in Indianapolis Saturday night and wouldn’t be back until Sunday. She said we’d be fine alone for one night, that I was more than old enough to take care of Lily by myself, and we could all go grocery shopping to make sure there was plenty of food.

I said, “I’m celebrating Valentine’s Day with Carolina tomorrow. I can’t babysit.”

“Yes, you can. Have Carolina come here. Have her spend the night here. That will be special.”

“Her parents would never let her spend the night here,” I said.

“Her dad wouldn’t care,” she said.

“How do you know her dad wouldn’t care?” I said. That shut her up. For two seconds.

“Trevor, you used to pride yourself on not being a cliché. Well, you’ve become the cliché of a smart-ass teenager with your attitude.” Then my mom walked out of the kitchen. After she was gone, Lily came over and hugged me.

“She’s sad Dad left,” Lily said. Yeah, right. But I couldn’t tell Lily that. I had to protect Lily from the truth just like I had to protect Carolina. Only I could handle it. Only I should have to handle it.

*

On Saturday night, I decided Carolina, Lily, and I would all go downtown. We’d make it an even more special night in spite of my mom’s lies.

The train station was too long of a walk in the cold, so I drove us there in my dad’s car even though I only had my permit. I knew I’d be careful. And I was. Lily kept saying, “This is very wrong, but I won’t tell.” I knew she wouldn’t. Lily was too good a person to be a tattletale.

I couldn’t get reservations at the Metropolitan Club without telling my dad or mom what we were doing, so instead we took a cab from Union Station to Michigan Avenue. We window-shopped and I bought (using my dad’s credit card) both Lily and Carolina sweaters from the Gap. Neither of them wanted sweaters all that much, but I wanted us to buy something. Just because. Yeah, my dad might notice the charge weeks from now. But probably not. The man was goddamn blind to everything that was around him.

If I hadn’t insisted that we go to the Gap, the night downtown might have been awesome. Because I swear, right before that, Carolina and I were feeling so close. Holding hands. Or each holding one of Lily’s hands. Like we were a family. We were adults. And it felt good to be adults. Because we were real adults, taking care of Lily like she was the most important thing in the world. Unlike our own parents, who took care of their own stuff first.

So. Yep. As we were walking out of the Gap, me holding a bag filled with two sweaters Carolina and Lily didn’t want or need, I heard Lily yell, “Mom! Did you decide to surprise us?”

Crap.

Then I looked up. And I saw our mom standing there. Looking so terrified. Like she wished she had succeeded in killing herself two years ago.