Where the Road Takes Me
Page 65
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
I wanted to care, but I just couldn’t find it in myself to do so. “I don’t know what to say . . . that it’s about time?”
She laughed.
“I mean I get that he’s my dad and all, but he’s kind of an asshole. If you knew that he was cheating, why did you stay married? It’s not like you guys lived together—not really. And I was old enough to know what was happening . . . so it’s not like you did it for me.”
We stopped walking and sat on a bench. She turned before speaking so her entire body was facing me. “I don’t know, a lot of reasons. It’s hard. We got married under the wrong circumstances, I guess. We weren’t really dating when I got pregnant with you, and he wanted to do the right thing. So he proposed, and we got married. I don’t know that we ever loved each other, not in the true-love sense.” She sighed. “I used to believe so much in the idea of love that I thought we’d get there someday.”
“And now? You don’t believe in love anymore?”
“Oh no,” she said quickly. “I still believe in love. Just not between your father and me.”
“Is that why you started drinking?”
She nodded. “I didn’t mean for it to get so far out of hand—for it to turn into an addiction the way it did.”
“I’m not judging you, Ma.” I settled my arm on the back of the bench. “You fought it right? You knew it was a problem and that it had affected your life, and you fought it. You beat it, and you came out on top. I can’t really ask for much more.”
She laughed quietly. “Who raised you?”
“You did,” I assured her. “When it was important, you were there.”
“I don’t know, Blake.” She brushed something off my shoulder. “I think you raised yourself, and you did a pretty good job of it.”
Silence fell upon us as I watched a sadness take over her. Her eyes misted, and she visibly swallowed. I knew she was on the verge of tears. I’d seen it before but not like this. When I’d been in middle school, I’d gotten most improved and MVP in this tiny junior league. Back then, basketball had been just a sport, not a future, but she’d still been so proud of me. Before I’d gotten my license, she’d been the one driving me to practices—early mornings, after school—and all my games. She’d always been my endless support and probably the reason I am where I am, and I’d never even thanked her for any of her encouragement. I’d never even told her about how it helped to get me to where I was.
She sniffed and wiped her cheek.
“Ma?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“Thank you.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “For what, sweetheart?”
“For being my mom. For supporting me, even when you had no idea how much it would pay off.”
“I don’t really understand what you’re talking about, Blake.”
I released all the air in my lungs. “I got into Duke, Ma. I got a full athletic scholarship. Basketball.”
She raised her hands to her mouth. Then she cried into them. She wrapped her arms around me so tight I could barely breathe. But I didn’t care.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she laughed.
I shrugged and looked away. “I still don’t know if I’m going to take it.”
“What?” she screeched, then understanding dawned. “Because you want to enlist?”
I faced her again, and nodded slowly. “I want to do both. That’s the problem. I don’t know which one I want to do more.”
“Wow,” she said slowly. “I wish I could make that choice for you. Either way, I’ll support you. You know that.”
“Yeah, Mom. I know.” I tried to smile, but I could still see the sadness in her. So I changed the subject. “So, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
Chloe met us outside the hotel to say our good-byes.
Mom hugged Chloe longer than necessary, but Chloe didn’t seem to mind. “Thank you for coming to see us, Mrs. Hunter. Oh, and the car, thank you so much for the car.”
Mom patted the side of Chloe’s face and smiled. “Anything for you two,” she said, then to me, “Get a haircut, Blake. You look like a gigolo.”
I closed Mom’s car door and watched as she drove away.
“Yeah,” Chloe said from behind me. “My own private gigolo.” She smacked my ass.
“Should you have been paying me this entire time?”
She winked. “Maybe you’re not worth it!” Then she bolted, running away from me and back to the hotel room.
She got about ten feet before I caught her. “What the hell makes you think you can outrun me?” I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder. “You can’t even do two push-ups!” I smacked her ass and carried her back to the room. She laughed the entire time.
Chloe
I was sitting up in bed, with his head on my lap, playing with his hair. We were supposed to be watching a movie, but I didn’t think either of us was paying attention.
His eyes caught mine when he turned to look up at me. “What are you thinking?”
My eyebrows bunched.
“You always play with my hair when you’re lost in thought. What’s up?” He moved to get into bed and under the covers, tugging me down so we were lying face-to-face. “Talk.”
What could I say? I love you, but I’m scared that I’m dying? I faked a smile. “What did you and your mom talk about today?”
His eyebrows rose, as if he knew I was talking bullshit. He sighed before answering. “Her and Dad are getting a divorce—”
“I’m sorry, Blake.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Mom and I are fine with it. She thought I’d be upset about it, but I’m not. I’m happy for her.”
His eyes drifted shut when I reached for his hair again, moving it away from his eyes. “What else?”
He leaned in closer, kissing me softly. I opened my mouth, inviting him. But he pulled back before he could get there. “I told her about Duke.”
My face lit up. “You did? And?”
“She said she would support me, whatever I choose.”
“Was she proud of you?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I also told her about how much I love you,” he whispered against my lips. His own moved to my neck. “I love you so much, Chloe.” His deep voice vibrated against my skin. “So much,” he repeated.
She laughed.
“I mean I get that he’s my dad and all, but he’s kind of an asshole. If you knew that he was cheating, why did you stay married? It’s not like you guys lived together—not really. And I was old enough to know what was happening . . . so it’s not like you did it for me.”
We stopped walking and sat on a bench. She turned before speaking so her entire body was facing me. “I don’t know, a lot of reasons. It’s hard. We got married under the wrong circumstances, I guess. We weren’t really dating when I got pregnant with you, and he wanted to do the right thing. So he proposed, and we got married. I don’t know that we ever loved each other, not in the true-love sense.” She sighed. “I used to believe so much in the idea of love that I thought we’d get there someday.”
“And now? You don’t believe in love anymore?”
“Oh no,” she said quickly. “I still believe in love. Just not between your father and me.”
“Is that why you started drinking?”
She nodded. “I didn’t mean for it to get so far out of hand—for it to turn into an addiction the way it did.”
“I’m not judging you, Ma.” I settled my arm on the back of the bench. “You fought it right? You knew it was a problem and that it had affected your life, and you fought it. You beat it, and you came out on top. I can’t really ask for much more.”
She laughed quietly. “Who raised you?”
“You did,” I assured her. “When it was important, you were there.”
“I don’t know, Blake.” She brushed something off my shoulder. “I think you raised yourself, and you did a pretty good job of it.”
Silence fell upon us as I watched a sadness take over her. Her eyes misted, and she visibly swallowed. I knew she was on the verge of tears. I’d seen it before but not like this. When I’d been in middle school, I’d gotten most improved and MVP in this tiny junior league. Back then, basketball had been just a sport, not a future, but she’d still been so proud of me. Before I’d gotten my license, she’d been the one driving me to practices—early mornings, after school—and all my games. She’d always been my endless support and probably the reason I am where I am, and I’d never even thanked her for any of her encouragement. I’d never even told her about how it helped to get me to where I was.
She sniffed and wiped her cheek.
“Ma?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“Thank you.”
She let out a nervous laugh. “For what, sweetheart?”
“For being my mom. For supporting me, even when you had no idea how much it would pay off.”
“I don’t really understand what you’re talking about, Blake.”
I released all the air in my lungs. “I got into Duke, Ma. I got a full athletic scholarship. Basketball.”
She raised her hands to her mouth. Then she cried into them. She wrapped her arms around me so tight I could barely breathe. But I didn’t care.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she laughed.
I shrugged and looked away. “I still don’t know if I’m going to take it.”
“What?” she screeched, then understanding dawned. “Because you want to enlist?”
I faced her again, and nodded slowly. “I want to do both. That’s the problem. I don’t know which one I want to do more.”
“Wow,” she said slowly. “I wish I could make that choice for you. Either way, I’ll support you. You know that.”
“Yeah, Mom. I know.” I tried to smile, but I could still see the sadness in her. So I changed the subject. “So, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
Chloe met us outside the hotel to say our good-byes.
Mom hugged Chloe longer than necessary, but Chloe didn’t seem to mind. “Thank you for coming to see us, Mrs. Hunter. Oh, and the car, thank you so much for the car.”
Mom patted the side of Chloe’s face and smiled. “Anything for you two,” she said, then to me, “Get a haircut, Blake. You look like a gigolo.”
I closed Mom’s car door and watched as she drove away.
“Yeah,” Chloe said from behind me. “My own private gigolo.” She smacked my ass.
“Should you have been paying me this entire time?”
She winked. “Maybe you’re not worth it!” Then she bolted, running away from me and back to the hotel room.
She got about ten feet before I caught her. “What the hell makes you think you can outrun me?” I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder. “You can’t even do two push-ups!” I smacked her ass and carried her back to the room. She laughed the entire time.
Chloe
I was sitting up in bed, with his head on my lap, playing with his hair. We were supposed to be watching a movie, but I didn’t think either of us was paying attention.
His eyes caught mine when he turned to look up at me. “What are you thinking?”
My eyebrows bunched.
“You always play with my hair when you’re lost in thought. What’s up?” He moved to get into bed and under the covers, tugging me down so we were lying face-to-face. “Talk.”
What could I say? I love you, but I’m scared that I’m dying? I faked a smile. “What did you and your mom talk about today?”
His eyebrows rose, as if he knew I was talking bullshit. He sighed before answering. “Her and Dad are getting a divorce—”
“I’m sorry, Blake.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Mom and I are fine with it. She thought I’d be upset about it, but I’m not. I’m happy for her.”
His eyes drifted shut when I reached for his hair again, moving it away from his eyes. “What else?”
He leaned in closer, kissing me softly. I opened my mouth, inviting him. But he pulled back before he could get there. “I told her about Duke.”
My face lit up. “You did? And?”
“She said she would support me, whatever I choose.”
“Was she proud of you?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I also told her about how much I love you,” he whispered against my lips. His own moved to my neck. “I love you so much, Chloe.” His deep voice vibrated against my skin. “So much,” he repeated.