So, I suck for disappearing for so long. It wasn't intentional, never is, lol. Although at least this time it's more good news than just work keeping me busy though it was mostly work. I got a big promotion (yay, money!) so I've been working a lot trying to figure out new systems and policies and just new things in general. So please bear with me as I try to balance new work hours and responsibilities with my (still more fun) writing.
"I have a girlfriend with her own apartment. This is so cool!"
Angela smiled and linked her arm through Eric's as they walked through the parking lot. The entire morning had been quite the ordeal. After dealing with the landlords in person and constantly calling her dad on the phone going over prices, she was glad to be done with the search. "It is a cute little place, right? I can't believe I have a balcony."
"Calling it a balcony might be a stretch. I'd say your living room has a nice looking hole in the wall."
"Really? You're just going to diss my balcony like that?"
"It's half the size of my fire escape. Hell, my closet is bigger."
"I can sit out there and read. That's enough for me, a little oasis in a big city." She leaned into him as they walked. "It's not a hole in the wall."
"Hey, I said nice hole in the wall." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry. Your apartment kicks all kinds of ass."
"I hate that the loft didn't work out though. Can you imagine living there?"
"Oh, that loft was amazing. Utilities would've been a bitch with the high ceilings and gigantic windows, so I get why your dad wouldn't want to budge with his price limit. But it had everything a person could want in a place."
"Don't rub it in."
"I'm not trying to. All I'm saying is when I finally have enough money to not need roommates, I know where I want to live. I didn't know I had a dream apartment, but we walked into it today."
"At least in the place I got I'm on the top floor, so I don't have to worry about loud neighbors above me."
"Yeah, you can be the annoying upstairs neighbor!"
"I'm not annoying."
"No, but you have the option now is what I'm saying." He reached into his pocket and dug out the car keys. Yes, keys. Though it wasn't officially his yet, he'd been driving her grandmother's car for a few days now. Lucille was still in his parking space though. He didn't have the heart to take the old girl to the junkyard just yet. It would have to be done in the next few days though. Eric wanted whatever money the junkyard would give for his upcoming trip with Angela. "I still don't understand why you passed on the apartment in my building." He practically ran over to the house earlier in the week to tell her about the available unit on the fifth floor. He'd even talked the landlord into holding off on listing it until she could see it. "It would've been great having you right upstairs, almost like living together."
"I know. That's a big part of the reason I didn't take it."
The metal of the seat belt hit the inside of the car door with a clank when Eric let it go and turned in the seat to face her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I love you and I love spending time with you," Angela insisted in a soft tone, "but I also need me time to focus and recharge. I don't want to rush things between us. If and when we ever decide to live together, I want it to be because we want to and it feels right." She took his hand in an attempt to soften the blow of her words. Angela wasn't trying to hurt him, but she didn't want to mess this up…mess them up. "It's not something to do because it's convenient and I'm already there."
"I didn't suggest it because it would be convenient. I mean, it would be, but I just meant it would've been nice after how hard it's been for us to spend a lot of time together this summer. An early breakfast before class or hanging out on the fire escape at midnight would be nice."
"I know things have been kind of crazy lately, but we've spent quality time together in the middle of it all. Focus on that."
Eric resumed putting his seatbelt on and started the car. "Can I come over whenever Jack and Cory are driving me crazy?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
"You're the one who said you need me time so I didn't want to assume anything."
"That's not what I…I didn't mean it like that." She looked over the lease as he drove. When the baseball game on the radio went to commercial, she spoke up. "Are up mad at me?"
"I was about to ask you the same question."
"Why do you think that?"
"I might not have a lot of relationship experience, but I know someone needing space is almost never a good thing."
How was this getting so twisted around? "No, I don't need space from you. I just meant when life in general gets nuts it'll be nice to have a place, an oasis of my own where I can shut the door and leave all the crap on the other side." She put her hand on his leg. "And for the record, I am not including you in the crap."
"Does that mean you'll make me a little doggie door?"
"I was going to give you the spare key, but if you'd rather have a doggie door I can ask the landlord if it's allowed."
"A key to your place?"
"Yeah. Why is-damn. I blew it, didn't I?"
"What?"
"Giving a key is supposed to be romantic, a big relationship milestone, and I say it like nothing." She hid behind the lease. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," he said, chuckling at her reaction.
"It didn't even occur to me that this should be a moment."
"Good."
"Good?"
"Yeah. We don't need to have a special dinner or speeches to say we trust each other. When you think about it, that's what the key means, right?"
"I wouldn't know. I don't have your key."
Shit. "Uh, I um…if it was just my place I'd-"
"I'm just kidding. I'd feel weird about it, too."
"Mean to scare me like that."
"Revenge for you scaring me for thinking I did something wrong for needing a little escape sometimes."
"Because the way you said it made it sound like you needed an escape from me. I thought I screwed up."
"It's not healthy for a couple to be together 24/7. I'm sure there's going to be times we get on each other's nerves and need a breather, right?"
"There's no good way to answer that, so I'm not going to."
She laughed and shook her head. "Coward."
"Absolutely."
"Is Cory staying with you and Jack after the summer or going back to the dorms?"
"No clue. Now that he's got that film project I don't know if he'll be able to work enough to cover rent and I don't see my parents fronting him rent money every month on top of tuition. So, he's probably back in the dorms."
"Wow, and with Shawn working full time he'll be rooming with a stranger."
"Remind me to send this person a sympathy card on the first day."
"That's horrible," she said, laughing anyway. "You and Jack will need a new roommate, too."
"I haven't given up hope on Jason."
"I thought he took a job in New Jersey."
"In Newark, but he's having trouble finding a place he likes and is staying with his parents right now. They're driving him crazy. He said the commute is only about an hour on the train so he's trying to suck it up for a while to save some money, but if I can get Cory out and Jason in…everybody wins! Okay, I win, but a win for me is a win for humanity."
She nodded. Aunt Lois's husband has commuted from Philly to New Jersey for years. "Just don't forget to talk to Jack first."
"I know. Speaking of roommates, have you told Topanga about your apartment?"
"It's hard to do when she won't call me back. But I found a way around it."
"How?"
"Cory and Shawn are visiting her. Cory knows I was looking at places. He can't keep a secret."
Eric nodded. "You figure blabbermouth will spill the beans and-"
"-and I'll either have a very understanding Topanga on the phone or a pissed one."
"What does she have to be pissed about?"
"I'm leaving her all alone."
"No, you're not. You're still going to be around and see her on campus."
"I know, but it's going to feel like she's being deserted. Trust me. Divorced kid 101: you want your friends around."
"But she's the one who left for the summer."
"Doesn't matter."
"Hopefully she'll be understanding."
"I hope so. She's had tunnel vision ever since her parents separated. I don't think she knows if she's coming or going. This is going to sound bad, but after all the crap I've had to put up with lately, I'm really excited about this. Part of me feels guilty because I was so wrapped up in stuff with Shawn and avoiding Cory and Topanga's efforts to get us back together that we never got a chance to really enjoy sharing a dorm. We had plans and talked about how much fun it was going to be. It didn't turn out anything like I thought it would."
"It wasn't your fault she wouldn't quit playing matchmaker and that Cory and Shawn were…Cory and Shawn."
"I know, and maybe this makes me a bad friend, but I'm so happy I don't have to go back to the dorms. If a never have to wear shower shoes again it will be too soon."
/
/
"So you're giving up?"
Topanga turned around and saw Shawn standing behind her, leaning against the doorframe. "What did Cory tell you? Wait," she immediately continued, "stupid question. He obviously told you everything."
"Actually, no, for once he's been keeping his mouth shut." He moved away from the door and sat next to her on the stairs. Cory had been oddly quiet ever since his talk with Topanga the previous day. That combined with him wanting to leave half a day before they were scheduled let him know something was horribly wrong. Normal Cory would want to bask in every second of Topanga time he could get. "That's enough to tell me everything."
"My parents aren't together anymore, Shawn."
"I know. It sucks."
"That's the understatement of the century," she scoffed. "Jedidiah and Chloe Lawrence are not supposed to get divorced."
"Chloe? Who the hell is Chloe? Is she another sister? Do your parents have one of those setups where there's more than one wife?"
"Chloe is my mother."
"I thought your mom's name is Rhiannon."
"When she took the job in Pittsburgh she started to go by her middle name, Rhiannon. She said it sounded more professional." She shook her head. "That should've been my first clue something was off. Why do you care what name she goes by anyway?"
"I'm just trying to keep up."
"My parents- by any name- they're the ones who were supposed to stand the test of time and defy all the odds of young love." She played with the fringe on the edge of her skirt. "You know those hokey, feel good stories they show on the news about a couple celebrating their sixty or seventy-something wedding anniversary?"
"The two clueless old geezers being pushed in their wheelchairs towards the cake and punch?"
Topanga laughed at his description. "I thought my parents would be those old geezers."
"Just because they're not going to be anymore doesn't mean it still can't be you and Cory." He leaned against the railing and crossed his arms. "There's still plenty of time for you and Cory to buy walkers and wheelchairs and shuffle arthritic hand in arthritic hand into seventy plus years of marriage. You guys will be the dopey news story."
"I don't know. I grew up believing in the lie of my parents' love story. Who's to say all love isn't a sham?"
"Wow, is this what I look like when I spin out, totally self-destruct and sabotage every good thing in my life? Because right now you're reading right from my playbook."
"I'm not sabotaging anything. I'm simply facing reality."
"You're giving up on you and Cory. That's nuts."
"You don't understand what I'm going through." His laughter only agitated her more. "What is so funny?"
"I don't understand? Where would you like me to start: the first time Chet and Virna split? Chet dying? Me ruining things with Angela-"
"You're used to dysfunction! It's new to me." She winced when her brain caught up with her emotions and mouth. "I'm so sorry, Shawn. I didn't mean that."
"Whatever. Look, all I'm saying is don't blow up your life because of what other people did. Take it from someone used to the dysfunction: it never ends the way you want it to and there's always a lot of pain."
"What if I'm not doing it because of my parents, or not just because of them?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know who I am. Cory doesn't know who he is. We haven't been individuals in a long time. We've just been a couple creature."
"The best couple creature I know, babe."
"Still, is it fair to him or me to promise ourselves forever when we don't know what that's going to look like?"
"No one knows what forever is supposed to be. That's kind of the point of life. I don't know shit about this stuff, but I think it'll be a lot easier going down that…forever road with someone holding your hand."
She wrinkled her nose. "Forever road? Not your poetic best."
"Cut me some slack. I'm new to the pep talks. Usually I'm getting them, not giving them."
"And you haven't picked up a pointer or two by now?"
"Watch it, Tippy." She growled at him. "Hey, no more scary voice. You promised."
"Don't call me Tippy." Topanga sighed and stared out at the water. "Does it get better?"
"Does what get better?"
"All of this…when do you feel normal again?"
"Normal…I'll have to let you know when I get there."
"So what, you get used to the dysfunction?"
"Kind of."
"That's not very encouraging."
Shawn took a seat beside her on the stairs and put his arm around her shoulders. "Sorry."
"Thanks."
/
"Here." Nebula held out a bag to Shawn. "I made some more barbecue pulled jackfruit for the road. This way you guys don't have to stop for food."
Despite not wanting to, he snatched the bag out of her hands. "Sneaky vegetarians."
"I could take it back."
He held it close and backed away from her. "Not a chance." He looked around at the scenery, trying to fill the silence while they were waiting for Cory and Topanga. "So…are you going to talk to Topanga?"
"What do you mean?"
"About her and Cory?"
"We've talked about her and Cory."
"Great job. She seems super confident."
Nebula rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to tell her?"
"That she can't throw away the love of her life because of your parents."
"Oh, she already knows how I feel about her basing decisions on the actions of Jedidiah and Chloe."
Shawn shook his head. "You know when we were kids we all made fun of you two for calling your parents by their first names."
"That says more about the rest of you than me and Tippy."
"Are you going to talk to her or not?"
"If you mean encourage her to follow what she truly believes is the right path for her to take at this moment in life, then yes, I will talk to her."
"What about Cory?"
"Like I said, I will encourage her to follow her path. Whether it's time for her to go it alone or remain by Cory's side is up to Topanga."
"They're the best couple in the history of forever. We should be doing everything we can to keep them together."
"Wow. No wonder Tippy is feeling so much pressure."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"She doesn't need everyone around her telling her what to do. She's having a crisis of faith. You don't know what that's like."
"Yeah, I do. My dad in January. I took off and abandoned everything and everyone while I traveled around for a couple of weeks."
"I'm sorry."
He nodded at her condolences. "One thing I learned was that you shouldn't let go of the people who matter. I did that and now she's dating Cory's brother."
"Angela, right? She was there at Aunt Prue's when I picked up Tippy."
"Yeah, best girl I ever met. She made me change the way I viewed dating and love. She's the first girl I ever loved…hell, I think I still love her." He didn't know why he was telling Nebula this. What was taking Cory and Topanga so long? "Sometimes I think I don't want to love her anymore, but the only thing that scares me more than still loving Angela is not loving her."
"Why did you break up?"
"I got scared. Feelings were too intense. Combine that with all the new people in college and…I don't know. It felt dumb to be tied down to one person at this point in our lives." He ran a hand through his hair. "She agreed with me and acted like it was mutual, but it wasn't. I had chances to go back and she would've taken me back, but I blew every one of them. I just couldn't. I wasn't…"
"You're still on your path."
"What path?! What is with you and paths?! Does yours' lead to the looney bin, because I'm ready to book you a room."
"Everyone has a path, Shawn. Everyone has a destiny, a purpose for being. Sometimes you have to get lost, be truly lost and alone, to find yourself."
"What do you know about being lost? You don't seem bothered by your parents' divorce. You've been gone for years. You don't know anything about pain."
She took a step back. "I don't know anything about pain?"
"Not as much as me." When Nebula disappeared into the cabin Shawn almost expected her to push Cory out of the door so they could leave. Instead, she reappeared seconds later and shoved a picture in his face. "Who is this?"
"His name is Phoenix. Well, I named him Phoenix but the couple who adopted him call him Dylan. They kept Phoenix as his middle name, so at least I have that."
"I…you had a kid?" He stared at the photo, a candid of a little blond-haired boy holding a stuffed dog with a big grin on his face. "He's got Topanga's eyes. The rest is you but those are Topanga's eyes."
"I know."
"He looks happy."
"Yes."
He did the math. The kid, Phoenix…Dylan…looked about 4 or five and he didn't remember Topanga ever mentioning her sister being pregnant. It was something she would've been excited about. "Is he why you left Philadelphia?"
"I had a lot of reasons for leaving, but ensuring my son had the best life possible was one of them."
"And have you found your path yet?"
"No, I'm still searching for my purpose."
"So you're still searching but think it's cool to tell Topanga to break up with Cory?"
"I haven't told her what to do once. She talks, I listen, and offer advice. Believe it or not, we do agree on one thing: the decision should be made based on what's best for Cory and Topanga."
"What's best for them, for the universe, is them being together."
"I guess time will tell."
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Cory and Topanga emerged from the cabin, neither of them looking happy. "Finally! What took so long?"
"We were talking." Cory had hoped to talk some sense into her, that the thought of not seeing each other again for several more weeks until classes start again would make her miss him, but they just spun around in the same circles until they were both dizzy. "So I guess I will see you when school starts up again."
Topanga nodded. "Yeah."
"I can help you move stuff back into the dorm. You know we'll probably still be right across the hall from each other."
"I think Angela and I can handle it."
He frowned. "Angela didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"She's looking at apartments. According to Eric, her dad's feeling big-time guilt over having to be so far away from her all the time. Combine that with the stuff with her mom and he offered to pay rent on an apartment. Eric was supposed to help her look all weekend."
"What? Why wouldn't she tell me?"
"I told you to return one of her calls," Nebula said. "She said it was important."
Topanga glared at her. "Could you not be the annoying big sister who's always right for once?"
"Sorry, gotta go with my strengths."
/
"Aunt Lois's granddaughter is going to convert Nan's recipes onto a disc to preserve them. It'll be nice because this way we can all have copies of her recipes whenever we need them."
Angela thumbed through one of Nan's notebooks, reading over a recipe for Doro wat, something- she wrote in the margin- that was an old family recipe taught to her by her own grandmother. Her dream had been to create a book and tell the stories of her family through the recipes. It seemed wrong to just stick all her work onto a disc and shove the books into a box to get old and dusty, forgotten with time. They weren't just cookbooks. They were family history.
"And I know you've already claimed the ones you wanted," Camille continued, unsure if her daughter was outright ignoring her or lost in thought, "but I hope you don't mind that I'm taking the rose bundt cake pan and the one that resembles a crown. Those were always my favorites." Still no response. "Angela?"
Her head snapped up. "Huh? No, I have the pans I wanted."
"Are you okay?"
"As if you care."
Camille suppressed a sigh. Talking to Angela and trying to get anything from her other than hostility was like beating her head against a brick wall. "Is there something in your grandmother's books that upset you?"
"Berbere."
"Nan's spices?"
"Yeah."
"What about them?"
"There are recipes for them in here. I assumed she used store-bought spice mixes she put in her own jars. I didn't realize she made her own or that spices needed recipes. Her grandmother called them the family's most sacred secrets."
"Maybe I'm missing something, but what is it about the spices that upset you?"
"It's not the spices, it's the stories they tell. Nan wanted to write a cookbook to celebrate our history, but she was too scared to make it happen. A lot of good dreams did her."
"You make it sound like she lived a miserable life. She chose security over risk. She bet on the sure thing. She's hardly the first person in the world to do that."
"Is that what you did when you married dad?"
"I loved your father when we got married. It was love at first sight when we met." She picked up a photo album and flipped through until she came to a wedding picture of her and Alvin. He looked so handsome in his uniform and she…while she looked deliriously happy, one could never pretend the late 70s were the epitome of wedding fashion. She did love the lace and bell sleeves, though. "Part of me will always love him. Love leaves an impact even if the relationship doesn't last."
Angela was quiet. Her dad had said the same thing about always loving her mother. Heck, she even said something similar to Shawn when she let him know she'd had enough of his back and forth games and that they were done for good. "Love at first sight," she mocked. "I can't imagine dad buying into that. He's too practical, a realist in every way."
"All I can say is he bought into it at least twice that I know of, granted in very different circumstances."
"What are you talking about?"
"Once with me and the other with you."
"Me?"
"It felt like I barely got to hold you after you were born before your dad took you and paraded you down the halls, showing you off to any and everyone with a set of eyeballs. There I was, having just spent seventeen hours in labor and pushing out a baby, and he whisked you away before I even had a chance to count all your fingers and toes."
It was difficult for Angela to imagine her dad outwardly expressing that much emotion. She pictured him more as the sit in a rocking chair, hold her like she's made of glass, and tell her a story type of new dad.
"I'm half convinced Disney got the idea for introducing Simba in The Lion King from how your dad showed you off to all of his friends and colleagues." Camille laughed when a forgotten detail came back to her. "Two nurses chased after him because they had rules about babies being carried, especially by non-medical staff, outside of the room. It was protocol for the babies to be pushed in the little incubators and your dad…," she shook her head and smiled, "your rule-following, protocol loving, never a crease in his uniform father forgot all about the rules the second he laid eyes on you, his baby girl."
"Really?"
"You had him wrapped around your fingers from day one. I imagine you still do." She dug out another album. On the second page, next to a copy of a grainy ultrasound image Camille had sent to her mother to announce her impending grandchild, was the traditional new family picture: mom, dad, and baby huddled together on the hospital bed. "You see that smile on his face? It was like he swallowed a Christmas tree it was so bright." She ran her hand over the image. "You were the missing piece that made us a family."
"Wasn't enough to keep it together though, huh?" Angela continued to flip through the album, some pictures familiar, others not so much. "What's this from?" She was a toddler, clearly unhappy with tear-stained cheeks, and her parents were smiling, though obviously just doing it for the camera. "Why was I crying?"
Camille sighed. "You didn't want your dad to leave. He was going to be gone for a few months, of course, you didn't understand that. For all you knew he was just going to the grocery store, but you were a mess because you wanted him with you. You stole his hat and refused to give it back and then you spoke your first full sentence and broke his heart."
"What did I say?"
"Dada no bye-bye. You kept repeating it over and over. By the time he had to leave I'm not sure who was more upset."
"I can see why you'd want a picture of such a touching moment."
"We always took a family picture before he left long term. I didn't care if it was supposedly safe or he was deployed to a warzone. I wanted there to be pictures just in case."
Angela stared at the photograph, at her one or two-year-old self in particular. Dada no bye-bye. She's been screaming that her whole life and her dad still didn't seem to hear her. "Why are you showing me all this? It's not like I need you to hype up my father to me. You're the one with the damaged reputation."
"I was trying to show you how much you changed his world from the moment you took your first breaths."
"Well, I don't need you to."
"Okay. I'm sorry." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Byron will be here to pick me up any minute, so I'll just say this. I'm not sure the next time we're going to see each other again and I-"
"If I have it my way, I'll never have to see you again."
"Never is a long time."
"You managed just fine before. I think you'll survive."
Camille realized it was pointless to argue. She certainly held no moral high ground and Angela was still too angry. "I want to say I'm sorry."
"I've already heard everything you've had to say, including sorry. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't make what you did okay."
"I know. I just wanted to tell you-"
"Don't. Please? Just…just don't. I can't do this over and over again. I thought hearing your side of things would make me feel better and bring me closure after all these years, but it just hurts and I can't hear anymore."
"Okay. If that's the way you want it."
"You think any of this is what I want?"
She nodded. "I'm just going to get my things together. I've already arranged to ship for some of the larger items so you don't have to worry about that."
"Fine." Angela tucked her grandmother's books under her arm and hurried upstairs to her bedroom. She glanced out the window and spotted Camille's blue rental car out front. Part of her was curious and wanted to look. Her mother's kids were in that car. She was almost curious to see how she greeted them. Would they be excited to see her? Did she sing silly car songs with them, too? In the end, she didn't have the heart to look. She breathed a sigh of relief when the front door slammed and she could feel the tension leaving her body. Though she also felt like she could cry, so it wasn't a total victory. But that didn't matter. Soon Camille would be on a plane back to Atlanta, far away from her.
"Hi."
She sat up with a start and found herself face to face with her sis- with Camille's daughter. It wasn't fair how much she and Mercy looked alike. "What are you doing here?"
"Your name is Angela?"
"I…what? What are you doing in here?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"I asked you first," Angela responded.
"Oh. What was the question? I forget."
"What are you doing here?"
"I had to go potty."
"There's a bathroom downstairs."
Mercy wandered over to the dresser and picked up a necklace. "This is pretty."
"Don't touch that!" She jumped up and retrieved the jewelry from the little girl. "My dad gave this to me."
"Oh."
"Look, kid-"
"You don't know my name? But you're my sister."
"Who told you that?"
"My mommy."
"What did she say?"
"She says that me and Spencer have a big sister named Angela but you have to live with your daddy so that's why we don't get to see you."
"When did she tell you about me?"
"Always. My whole life she tell me about you. Mommy says you are smart and pretty and very special and she misses you lots."
She was prepared to hear her mother pretended like she didn't exist and shut her out of the second phase of her life. But to hear that wasn't the case? She wanted to vomit. "Yeah, well, your mommy doesn't know me very well anymore."
"Who is this in the picture?"
She went to her nightstand and removed a photograph of her and Eric from the girl's hands. "His name is Eric."
"Is he you're boyfriend?"
"Yes."
"Do you hug and kiss him," she asked through giggles.
Angela smiled despite her current mood. "Yes."
"A lot?"
"Kind of."
"But boys are yucky!"
"You might not always think so."
"Mercy," Camille exclaimed, appearing in the doorway, "there you are. You were supposed to come right back outside." She was almost afraid to look at Angela. "I'm sorry. She really had to go to the bathroom."
"Whatever. It's fine."
"Come on, it's time to go."
"Mommy-"
"Now, Mercy."
"But-"
"Mercy Malaika I am not asking you again. We've been in Angela's room long enough."
"But I didn't give her the sweater."
"What sweater," They asked in unison.
Angela watched as she put her little backpack down and unzipped it. After pulling out a few various items: rocks, hair bows, a miniature baby doll, a golf ball, and an…oven mitt? She remembered Amy's talk about random items in kids' pockets and decided it was best not to ask questions. She gasped when Mercy pulled out a little sweater covered in ladybugs. "That's mine."
"I didn't mean to steal it. It was a accident."
The mature thing to do would be to let it go, to let the kid who could wear it keep it. "Nan made it for me." Apparently, she wasn't as mature as she thought she was. She ran her hands over the garment, remembering the day she got it in the mail. Nan made it especially for her very first school picture day.
"I didn't know it was yours'. I'm sorry."
"That-that's okay."
"Mercy, go downstairs by daddy, okay?
She crammed her belonging into her backpack. "Can Angela come when I have my party?"
"What?"
"My birthday is September number two. You can come to my party."
"Um…I have probably have school."
"Mercy, downstairs now, honey."
"Okay, mommy." Before she left the room she ran over to Angela and threw her arms around her legs. "Bye, Angela!"
She froze up, not knowing what to do or say. "I-uh-bye."
"I'm sorry again," Camille apologized. "She wasn't supposed to come upstairs."
"Whatever."
"You can come you know."
"Excuse me?"
"To Mercy's party. It's going to be on Labor Day Weekend. She knows all about you, both she and Spencer do. I've never hidden you from them."
"Funny, I can't say the same."
"I'm just saying if you want a relationship with your siblings you can have it independent of me. Mercy adores you."
To see her mom with Mercy was like going back in time and watching herself. It was all the same. Camille's soft smile, gentle tones when not upset, and harsher ones when she was, was exactly as she remembered. Was she teaching her to play the piano, too? When Angela finally found her voice, it was barely above a whisper. "I can't. Maybe that makes me a bad person who's taking this out on them, but oh well." She played with one of the ladybug-shaped buttons on the sweater. "I can't watch you be their mom. I know they're innocent, but I can't do it."
"What do I tell them when they ask about you?"
"I'm sure you'll think of something to cover your tracks and emerge with a glowing halo."
"Angela-"
"If they want to look me up when they're older, like eighteen or twenty-one…fine. We can compare notes. I'll tell them my side of the story."
The car horn from outside interrupted anything else Camille was going to say. They did need to get back to the hotel and pack if they were going to make their flight back to Atlanta tonight. "It was so good to see you, Angela. You don't have to believe me, but it's the truth. And I love you." She shook her head and said, "you probably don't believe that either, but-"
"No, I believe it."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"I don't suppose-"
"Isn't your family waiting for you?"
Camille was going to launch one more argument, give one more defense, but she didn't want to hear it. She didn't deserve to sit through it again. "Right. If you ever change your mind or want to talk-"
"Please leave."
She stood in the doorway for several long moments and watched her daughter, practically stared a hole through Angela and took in every detail. From the braids piled atop her head in a messy bun to her grandmother's tiny gold hoop earrings, all the way to her boyfriend's t-shirt and the pop of metallic blue polish on her toes, Camille memorized it all. She was the epitome of a strong young woman on the cusp of taking on the world.
She tried to ignore the fact that Angela couldn't stand to look at her, that she was sitting cross-legged on the bed and almost hunched over, curled into herself as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. And that sweater…her eyes had been locked on it since Mercy handed it over. That ladybug sweater was clutched in her hands as if it was some sort of lifeline. In this light, Camille didn't see a young woman ready to take on the world. Angela was a sad little girl with a broken spirit, worse yet- a little girl she broke. Maybe for the first time, she was finally seeing what Aunt Lois spent the entire visit telling her, what her mother had spent the last ten years of her life trying to tell her, but she was too afraid to believe it. "Angela, I'm sorry."
Angela slowly raised her head and stared at her mother, surprised by the emotion- genuine emotion- in her voice. Tears were shining in her eyes and she seemed to be truly pained by whatever she was feeling. "There are some things you can't just take back. You did one of them. You hurt me so bad, but you can't turn around and make it better with a few I'm sorrys, even if I think you might actually mean them this time."
"But can't we-"
"Goodbye, mom."
This time Camille didn't linger. There was no taking any moments in or memorizing details. "Goodbye."
And with that, she was gone.
Angela closed her eyes when she heard the front door slam and she heard her mother walk out of her life again. She thought she'd be happy. After all, she got to tell her off and say everything she's kept bottled up for the last decade. Unlike before, Camille didn't simply vanish. She said goodbye this time. And yet, despite all that Angela wasn't happy. She didn't want to throw a party or dance in the street the way she imagined. Was it too soon? Was the hurt too fresh? Maybe she'd feel like celebrating tomorrow? Or maybe, she realized, when she woke up tomorrow she'd be the same person she was today…the person she was yesterday. She was still the girl whose mom walked away, who chose something other than her. It wasn't her fault though. Angela didn't break her family. While that insight didn't provide any solace right now it did help to know she'd survive. She survived Camille leaving before and she could do it again, no matter how much it hurt. She didn't have a choice. It was what she did.
I'm going to try to be more prompt with the next chapter but here's a little preview:
*we meet Jack's kinda/sorta girlfriend Boudicca
*Eric finishes summer school
*Angela and Eric finally (FINALLY) leave on their vacation