Don't Let Go(87)

Becca’s expression changed as her thoughts took off. “Did you—have to go there?” she asked.
“Briefly,” I said, my stomach going sour at the memory. “My parents thought a weekend there would change my mind about keeping him.”
Becca’s eyes filled. “Did it?”
“Probably,” I whispered.
“Seth volunteers there once a month,” Becca said. “Talking to people who need it.” She wiped away two tears. “Takes on a whole new meaning now, when you know him,” she said. “I wish I could have grown up with him.”
“You wouldn’t have, baby,” I said, swiping under my eyes. I’d come to terms with that. “If Noah and I had stayed together and got to keep Seth, I wouldn’t have met your dad and wouldn’t have you now.” I took a deep breath. “Everything happens for a reason.”
“That’s messed up, Mom,” she said, more tears falling.
“Life generally is, baby.”
“I don’t want messed-up crap like that,” she said, hiccupping through her tears.
I laughed and hugged her head to me. My baby girl. “I don’t want messed-up crap for you either, baby. Let’s hope for the best.”

? ? ?

The next week went by in a haze of the normal things most people take for granted. I used to. It was hard to remember that. Just weeks earlier I’d gotten up and gone to work every day, made sure Becca had what she needed, made sure our little world was in order, ate, slept, and did it all again the next day.
Things may not have been shiny, but they made sense.
Now, Becca and I were doing better, but it was taking large amounts of pretend patience on my part. Trying not to be my mother proved harder than I even wanted to acknowledge. And then there was that other thing.
That thing I kept trying to ignore or forget or at least not care about, when in reality some part of every hour seemed to ring a little Noah chime in my head.
Interestingly enough, where he’d been friggin’ everywhere before, now he and Shayna had both disappeared off the grid. Which probably didn’t help my chiming. I had no idea what their status was, where they were, and there was no way in hell I was going to ask anyone. The closest I’d come was chatting up Linny on the sidewalk one evening, and she talked about everything else but Noah. I know. I waited it out.
What I did have was photos. I’d printed out the ones of me and Seth and of him and Becca, and framed them for the living room tables. Finally, I had both my kids there, without hiding or secrets. I could look at him every day. Twice, I attempted to do something with some of his baby pictures, but I couldn’t do it. I was glad to have them, but they represented pain and betrayal to me. Of a time where my mother got to know of him but kept it all from me. So I put them all back in the book box, put the whole thing in a plastic tub to protect it, and set that back on the shelf. I could go there if I chose to, but I would rather look at the photos taken now, where everything was out in the open. There would be more. I’d make sure of it.
There was another photo I still hadn’t seen. But just knowing it was there was enough.
On Friday night, I decided to take Becca out for dinner before she headed off to spend the night with Lizzy and her family. They preferred that so that they could get an early start with the float the next morning. Good grief.
Of course, Becca picked the damn diner for our dinner out, which blew my mind. Of all the good places to go, she wanted the same crap we ate for lunch all the time. Or I did. And she did when she wasn’t eating at school. Which was more frequent than she admitted.
I didn’t want to go there at night—not that I was afraid of someone being there, but then again maybe I was. I was accustomed to the lunch crowd. He didn’t show much for that, and I could relax. I had no idea who to expect for the dinner crowd. Geez, I had to move on.
“You sure you don’t want to go get Mexican or Italian or something?” I said as we pulled in front of the diner.
Little snowflakes frosted the glass, and red flyers were on a box outside the door. Red flyers were everywhere now. On every street post and every corner. On the far end of the park, the carnival rides were already set up, just waiting for the next day to kick things off. Just two more days of this, I told myself. Tomorrow would be chaos and crazy people on cheap floats, kids waiting for candy and carnival rides, and the chili battle would commence. The next day would be more of the same, but wrapping up at nightfall.
“We could even go to Katyville,” I said. “We don’t have to stay here.”
“Nah, I want to go here,” she said. “This is home.”
True, and I loved that, but home was kind of beating me with a stick lately.
“Okay,” I said on a sigh, getting out of the car.
A quick perusal of the other parked cars didn’t produce any heart palpitations, and I mentally kicked myself for feeling disappointed by that. Good Lord, I was losing it.
Linny was getting off as we walked in, and she met Becca with a giant hug.
“You don’t get enough of this place already?” she asked, laughing, her round face looking softer with her hair pulled down.
I realized I hardly ever saw her that way. Like her sole existence was in that diner. I gave a little shiver at that thought, hoping no one ever looked at me that way. Like I was a walking bookstore.
“Becca’s choice,” I said, shrugging.
“Well, at least you get a discount,” she said, winking as she walked out the door.
I frowned, confused. “Discount?”
“Counter tonight?” Becca asked, her eyes all giddy.