Puddle Jumping(35)

Such is first love, I suppose.

Everyone was worried. But I wasn’t. I didn’t care. If I could have faded into the walls, I would have.

A couple weeks before my birthday, my mom made me go see our family doctor. I didn’t fight, even though I knew nothing was physically wrong with me. I was about to turn nineteen and instead of celebrating with my boyfriend; I had a tongue depressor in my mouth. My doctor’s really cool and she ended up sitting down with me, asking what was going on. And when I described what had happened, in as little detail as possible, she looked sympathetic.

Not sympathetic enough to give me a Valium or anything . . .

When I pulled up to my house and saw Sheila Neely’s car outside, it made my insides nosedive straight through my floorboard.

It’s funny how many scenarios went through my mind. One where I marched into the house and demanded she make Colton stay. One where I just drove and drove and drove until I ran out of gas and had to find a job waiting tables somewhere, like a character in a Nicholas Sparks book. One where I rammed my car through the front door and aimed straight for her kneecaps.

I guess I had some pent up aggression toward her I hadn’t let myself acknowledge until that moment.

But it seemed as good a time as any to get it off my chest. With more courage than I thought I possessed, I opened the front door to my house and what I saw in the living room shocked the hell out of me.

Sheila . . . face to face with my parents . . . holding a wrapped gift that was almost as tall as she was.

There was only one thing it could have been. Judging by the tears on her face and expressions on my parents’, I knew Colton had painted me a gift.

And I knew he wasn’t doing well. At all.

“What’s going on?” I’d asked, suddenly hurting not just for me, but for the boy who had sent the gift.

“Colton wanted me to bring your gift over for your birthday. Since he will miss it.”

My eyes barely met hers while I stared at the festive paper. “Why isn’t he here to bring it?”

“He couldn’t . . .” Her voice cracked and I just knew . . . he understood. He got it. The limited contact with me was wearing on him just as much.

I wanted to yell at her. I wanted to tell her all of the heartache could have been avoided, if things had just been handled differently. But I was as much to blame as she was, because I allowed my own feelings of self-pity to override what I knew Colton needed of me. He needed me to be supportive. He needed me to say congratulations and . . . just . . . shit, ya know?

I nodded and stepped forward, noting how my parents shifted protectively as I did.

“Do you mind if I talk to Lilly alone?” Sheila was breaking my heart with how genuine she sounded. But I knew what she and I had to discuss shouldn’t have been overheard by my parents. I let them know it was fine and took a seat on the opposite couch, facing her as she settled back down, almost deflating right before my eyes.

“Do you not care about me?” It slipped out faster than I could stop it.

Her eyes got all big and she shook her head. “No. God, no. I can’t believe you would think . . .”

“Then why didn’t Colton tell me he was leaving? Or you, for that matter?”

Sheila held her breath for a moment before speaking. “In hind-sight, that is exactly what should have happened. We had no idea the internship even existed because . . . it didn’t until he started there. They developed it specifically for him, and so as not to give false hope and take it away if it didn’t pan out, they didn’t mention it until it was final. Clearly, I would have liked to have known about it earlier, but I can’t turn back the clock and do all of these things over again. I asked if he was going to tell you first. He was so proud, Lilly. He wanted it to be an announcement. He wanted you to be there along with everyone else. And you know once he has his mind set on something, it takes a crowbar to change it.” Her brow furrowed. “When you showed back up in our lives at that craft fair, I was worried it would upset him. But after just a few minutes with you, he was calmer. He seemed so, at least.”

“You didn’t see me there.” It was hard for me to believe what she was saying.

She laughed then. “I’m a mom. I see everything.”

That was disturbing.

“I told you that I thought he had forgotten about you, even though I knew it would be virtually impossible for him to. From then on, he talked about you. Drew you. Painted you. I have an attic full of renderings of your face . . .” Her eyes went wide with panic. “I didn’t want to upset you, so I never brought them down. But you were like the one point of light in a tunnel he could see so clearly. I guess, what I meant to say is, you’ve always been in his life. I’m shallow enough to have thought you always would be. Even after a year’s worth of separation.” There was a little smile of defeat. “You’ve been apart longer than that before. You’re going away to college. It never occurred to me the distance would be an issue.”

I saw her then. The real her. She was just human. Flawed. Sheila Neely was not a Super Parent. She was trying her hardest just like everyone else in the world. I’d put her up on such a pedestal that it was difficult to wrap my brain around the truth.

Searching for words wasn’t easy. It took me a few minutes to get a steady train of thought before I could speak. “Has he been freaking out?” She nodded. “Breaking stuff. All of that?” Again with the nod. “I love him, you know. And not in a puppy love or teenage love sort of way. I know what it’s like to be with someone because it’s easy.” I let that sentence sit for a moment. “Being with Colton is not easy. It’s hard. It’s work. But if I think about my life before him, and my life with him . . . the struggle and work is worth all of it.”