Liars and Losers Like Us(8)
We wait on a bench while I give my mom a double take. She’s wearing a shimmery black shirt I’ve never seen before and has heels on with jeans. Guess she really was dying to get out. She does need to get out more, not that I’m sure she’s ready to date yet or if I’m even ready for that. Seeing her with someone else would be weird. It doesn’t feel that long ago when she told me her and Dad were finally calling it quits.
It was the Fourth of July. Mom woke me up with a box of donuts. I knew something was up since she’d been on an anti-processed sugar kick for a while.
“Honey, we have to talk.”
My stomach went into instant knots as I prepared for her to tell me she had some incurable disease. My breath started getting away from me, which is something I’ve started getting used to the past couple years. If my parents were fighting, or sometimes even out of the blue, my throat feels like it closes up and my heart starts beating harder and faster.
Mom laid her hand on my knee. “Your dad and I are getting a divorce.”
I let out a sigh and said, “Finally.” Immediately I wanted to snatch the word back and even the sigh. It’d come out so sharp that my mom actually jerked back, as if I’d slapped her.
Before I could explain, she was making excuses for all her and Dad’s fighting so I tuned her out. I’d been getting pretty good at that. Her and Dad were constantly arguing over stupid shit for at least the last three years. My dad works nights as a police officer for the county and Mom works at Melbrook Elementary with special needs kids. On Dad’s off days, he was always hanging out with my uncle Mike. Uncle Mike’s a mess and a few years younger than Dad so he says he has to watch out for him. I’m not sure how sitting around an apartment, drinking beers, and watching sports really helps someone get a job or find happiness, and neither did Mom. Usually, while Mom was yelling about having a part-time husband, I’d be in my room with my music cranked up. A lot of times, Dad would just leave in the middle of her yelling and take off in his truck.
I checked back into my mom’s long-winded explanation to hear her say, “I’m sorry. I can’t believe we’ve been putting you through all of this for the last year.”
I wanted to say it’d been at least three years, but I stayed quiet. I was fixated on my now tasteless donut, taking tiny, clean bites to avoid a powdery red goopy mess on my flowered down comforter.
“I’ve been waiting on something to change or something to give, but it hasn’t. I love your dad, honey, I really do, but we’ll be better off apart. And most importantly, it’ll be better for you. You’re going to be a senior. You’ll have so much going on and the last thing you need is two parents fighting all the time.”
I imagined throwing the jelly donut across the room and watching it splatter, stick, and slide down the wall. I wanted to scream, “Geez Mom, thanks for finally thinking of me. Thanks for giving me the gift of a ‘fight-free’ senior year. Now I can sleep in peace or maybe hang out in our living room instead of holing up in my room with Maroon 5 trying to drown out your crying screaming bullshit.” But I didn’t say any of that.
“I just want you to be happy, Mom. I gotta take a shower, though. I’m meeting Chip for a breakfast date.” I walked into my bathroom, leaving her sitting on my bed with the donuts and then spent the rest of the day at the library avoiding calls from everyone.
As I’m picking up my Azumi menu, one of my worst-case scenarios walks into the restaurant. Chip and his whole family. His dad, stepmom, and little brother.
“Quick Mom, trade places with me. I want to be closer to the exit just in case there’s a fire.”
She laughs, trades seats, and then leans in. “In case of a fire started by your ex-boyfriend Chip and his gang of arsonists?”
“Pretty much.”
“If you want to leave, just say the word. We can always grab a pizza and head back home.”
“It’s fine, Mom.” I only say this because she got dressed up for dinner and if I can stay in my seat, with my back to Chip’s table, I can avoid any sort of scene. We’ll have to wait until they leave first, though, so I don’t have to walk past them. I skim the menu, volleying between sushi rolls or chicken teriyaki. Or their Pad Thai. It’d be easier to decide if I didn’t have my ex-boyfriend seconds away from noticing me.
Mom says, “Oh cool, Bree. Look! They’re going to have music. Some guy’s getting ready to play an acoustic guitar. Looks about your age. Look hon, he’s a cutie.”
“Who says cutie, Mom?” I laugh and think wouldn’t it be just my luck if Sean was at Azumi too?
I turn my head and the second-worst scenario happens. Sean Mills is at Azumi. I freeze. There’s no way he’s not going to notice me, he’s sitting three o’clock from me, on a tall stool to the left of the hostess and cashier stand. He tunes his guitar as I wonder how this could get any worse. Then Chip notices me because my head is turned. The good thing is that he looks surprised, which means he wasn’t legit stalking me. Which is good since stalking someone with your family in tow would be over the edge. I’ve seen Chip at the edge, but I for sure don’t need to see him go over it.
“Bree!” Chip yells across three tables.
Sean glances up from his guitar, meets my eyes, looks away and then right back again. He waves and smiles, as if he sees me in here all the time.