Part 14 (2/2)

Ten minutes before Amy's supposed to pick me up, there's a series of raps on the front door. I glance up from my Twitter feed, where I've been posting like crazy.

sixteenthings.indd 89 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

J a n e t G u r t l e r Ever feel like you're diagonally parked in a parallel universe?

#Ido #roadtrip Josh is still snoring under his blankets, but Jake's out in the living room. I hear him answer the door. With a deep breath, I tuck my phone into my backpack and stand, slinging it over my shoulder with one last look around my bedroom. Next time I'm in here, I'll have met my father. I walk out, stopping in the hallway in front of Mom's, room and tap at her door. There's no response, but I push it open anyways.

”Mom?”

She's lying on the bed, on top of her covers. She's wearing a fitted T- s.h.i.+rt and the black velour shorts she bought me for Christmas last year.

She coughs, sounding fragile and tired. ”How're you feeling?” she asks me.

”I'm good,” I tell her. ”How are you feeling?”

She coughs again. ”I miss my cigarettes.” She pushes her bottom lip out. The hospital stay seems to have cured her of her lipstick addiction. With her pale face and untidy hair, she looks like a little girl who woke up from a nightmare.

”You're doing great.”

”I'm scared,” she says with a sigh.

I don't know if she's scared because of her heart condition or because I'm starting out on a trip to finally meet my dad. I don't ask. She could have pulled out everything in her a.r.s.enal to stop me from going to Victoria- pity, fear, guilt, whatever it took. But she hasn't. I know she wants to tell me not to go, and I respect her restraint even though 90 sixteenthings.indd 90 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e resentment swirls around my overactive brain. She hasn't brought up his name again. We haven't discussed him once- or why I'm going to Victoria. We're following family protocol by not discussing it.

”I want to smoke so badly,” she says.

Jake's laughter floats into the room from the front hall.

”That's your friend with Jake?” She places her book on the bed beside her and slowly moves into a sitting position and then swings her feet over the side of the bed.

I almost tell her Amy's not a friend exactly, that she's more like a chatty coworker with a car. But it makes both of us happy to think I have friends again, so I nod.

”What about the boy? Adam? Is he coming here too?”

”No. I told you. We're picking him up after. He lives closer to the outside of town.”

She sighs. ”I'm still not happy about you traipsing off with two kids I don't know.”

”Liar,” I say lightly. ”You're happy I'm going somewhere with real people.”

She stares at me as she pushes on the bed and slowly stands. ”It has been a while, but this isn't exactly the way I would want it.”

I swallow the sarcastic responses that pop in my head.

She takes a shaky step forward. ”Can you bring me my robe?”

”Sure.” I put down my backpack and reach for the pink terry cloth robe on the door handle behind me. Everything about it is familiar, even the faint odor of smoke that clings to it. I hold it, proud of her for giving up her cigarettes even though she loves them so much.

91.

sixteenthings.indd 91 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

J a n e t G u r t l e r For a fleeting moment, I wonder if I could give up the Internet if I had to. But that thought makes my head and stomach hurt, so I take a deep breath and hand her the robe.

She stares me down with her practiced Mom glare as she puts her arms into the sleeves, and when she pulls the belt around her, it emphasizes her tiny waist. She's incredibly thin, and I remember how physically fragile she is right now.

”It's going to be all right,” I say softly and move to help her walk, but she shakes her head and wobbles forward.

”Just be careful.” She touches the side of my face. ”Be careful.”

She opens her mouth as if she's about to say more, but then clamps it shut, shakes her head, and clears her throat. ”Well, come on, I need to meet this Amy girl.”

I pick up my bag and follow her to the hallway. When we turn the corner to the living room and front foyer, Jake is leaning against the wall, smiling down at Amy. She's talking a mile a minute. He's watching her as if she's explaining the meaning of life.

Jake is handling Mom's condition and recovery well, but Josh seems to be dealing by ditching his '70s vibe and becoming more responsible. Before Mom came home from the hospital, he shaved off his moustache. He's selling his cla.s.sic car and getting a more reliable one. I heard him talking to a girl on the phone and asking her to dinner- a girl he'd already taken out once. And yesterday he was talking to Jake about putting some money into the down payment of a condo.

Jake was the one who said he didn't want to move out yet or leave until Mom was feeling better. It's a role reversal. Josh was always a 92 sixteenthings.indd 92 9/9/13 2:21 PM.

1 6 t h i n g s i t h o u g h t w e r e t r u e mama's boy. Josh is still the one who keeps the lawn trimmed so the neighbors don't complain, but it's Jake who doesn't want to leave me to handle Mom on my own yet. He has no idea how grateful I am.

Amy spots my mom and me and stops talking midsentence, but Jake doesn't take his eyes off her.

”Hey,” I say. ”Amy, this is my mom. You've obviously met Jake.”

”How old do you have to be to cross the border?” Mom asks instead of saying, ”Hi, Nice to meet you,” like a normal person might.

”I'm eighteen,” Amy says and straightens her back to stand as tall as she can. She barely comes up to Jake's armpit. He doesn't appear to mind, based on the goofy grin on his face.

Mom shuffles forward and stops beside Jake, leaving just enough room for me to squeeze by them in the hallway.

<script>