In Sight of Stars(73)

“Klee!”

“What? We should.”

My mother laughs fully, now, and so I laugh too, because, seriously, that is one butt-ugly piece of art.

Finally, my mother shakes her head at me, and wraps her arms to her chest, fighting back another round of long-held tears. “I’m glad we’re having this conversation, Klee,” she says. “I’m glad to have you back home.”

I think of Dr. Alvarez saying that sometimes it’s better to just let it all out, get it over with, and I’m about to say that to my mom, but she turns her gaze back out over the water. When she turns back again, she says, “He tried to help Armond out that way, at first, apparently. By buying paintings, being a patron. But it wasn’t enough. So he started paying his rent, too. Just for the gallery, at first, but later, for his apartment … I found receipts, credit card statements, or else I never would have known. I suppose that’s partly my fault, for letting your father handle it all, putting it all on him. Initially, he said it was only because the gallery was going to go under, it was a business decision…” Her voice trails off. After a moment she shrugs and continues. “Maybe that was his way to hold on to his art.”

“If he had told us, if he had wanted to be with Armond, we would have found a way to deal with it, right?” I ask. “We would have understood? No matter what, I mean. If he had given us a chance, then maybe everything would have been okay?”

“Maybe,” my mother says. “To be honest, Klee, I just don’t know.” Her eyes meet mine again. She looks vulnerable, weary. “I’d like to believe that, yes. It wouldn’t have been easy, but, we sure would have tried. Yes,” she says, more firmly, “we would have found a way.”

“We would have still loved him,” I say. “That’s all I mean. That part would have been easy. We would have wanted him to be here, on earth. Alive. Happy.”

“Yes. Yes. Of course.” Mom blows her nose. “But, all we can do now is go forward.”

“Yeah,” I say, standing. “I just wanted to say that, I guess. And that I’m sorry. Sorry for not knowing. Sorry for thinking you were the one…” My voice breaks. I can’t say any more about that part yet. “I’m glad you got your water view,” I offer.

She waves me off like I’m silly, like she’s had more than enough out of me for now. “Let’s be clear, Klee. That’s not something that should have ever fallen on you.”

“Well, still—I’m going to do better from now on,” I say, not knowing exactly what that means. And how will I do anything when I’m leaving in a few short months for school? I hope to be, anyway. But what if she needs me here? What if she wants me to stay? Or what if I don’t get in? I’ve fucked things up so much. My final portfolio piece is long overdue. I need to walk and think. I need a few minutes to clear my head.

“I was thinking of going for a drive,” I say, glancing outside. “Get out for a bit before it gets dark. Just for an hour or so.” My mother’s face shifts, contorts with alarm. “It’s okay,” I reassure her. “Dr. Alvarez said no restrictions, that we need to be as normal as we can.” I laugh a little. “Presuming we can be normal at all.” My mother forces a smile. “Not far,” I add. “Just a drive up River Road? I’ll be back in an hour. Promise.”

“Klee…”

“It’s okay, Mom. Really. One hundred percent for sure.”

“One hour, not more, and you come right back, yes?” I nod. “Bring your phone and answer it, or I send out the troops.”

“Fair enough,” I say.

*

I make my way up our long driveway toward the road. It feels good to be in motion, and strangely good to be on my own. In a few short months, if all goes well, I’ll load the car up with all my worldly crap and head off to college in Boston. School of Fine Arts. My father’s alma mater.

I turn onto Old Basin Road and head in the direction of River’s Edge, the first place that Sarah took me. Our very own place to fool around.

Am I sorry for everything with her, or only the bad parts?

Will I ever get over loving her?

The back roads are quiet like they always are up here. Thankfully, I pass no one I recognize, only a few sporadic cars zipping by. When I reach the unpaved road that leads to our spot, I turn in, heart pounding, and drive up toward the empty clearing, and the guardrail.

I just want to be here and remember. One last time what it felt like to be with her.

I lock up and start down to the water. At the edge of the river, I gather a handful of stones. One after another, I skip them in. Some go six whole skips before sinking down. Something else good my father taught me.

*

“An old man walks along a riverbank until he comes to four pools,” Dad says. “At the first pool stands a young boy. He’s throwing a handful of stones.

“‘Hello, what are you doing?’ the old man asks the boy.

“‘I am scaring birds,’ the boy replies.”

I giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Dad asks.

“I just think it’s funny he’s scaring the birds.”

“Ah, I see,” Dad says. “Well, the boy must be very good at it, because there are no birds whatsoever near the pool. So, the old man walks on and comes to a second pool, where another young boy is skipping rocks.