No, this time, I’m actually appealing to a higher power.
"Gram.GRAM!"I yell as I barge through the kitchen door.She comes bustling in from the living room.She works part-time at the office, but this time of day, she takes a mid-afternoon break.She claims it’s to let her lunch digest, but I’m pretty sure she’s taking a catnap while her soap operas are on in the background.That woman has been hooked onGeneral Hospitalfor as long as I can remember.
"What is it?Are you okay?Are you bleeding?"That’s Gram’s code to ask me if I’m physically hurt or if I’m having another panic attack.
"I’m not okay.Gramps said he’s sending me down to the south office, and that I have to move there."
Her face melts into a sympathetic expression as she opens her arms to offer a hug.Sometimes I want the contact, but when I’m really heightened, I can’t stand the touch.This isn’t a panic attack with no rational cause.It’s my life, spinning out of control, by no volition of my own.
Again.
I take a step forward and sink into her arms.These are the arms that were there my entire childhood.These are the arms that held me when I cried over a mother who wasn’t there.When I had my first panic attack.When I got my first period and thought I was dying.When we found out Richie was literally dying.These arms are where I find comfort and peace, and know everything is going to be okay, even when it’s not.
"It’s going to work out, Rachel.I told Al I’d talk to you.I can only imagine how he dropped the news on you.That man never did have any tact."
It takes me a minute to process what she’s saying.The second I do, I drop my arms and step back as if she’s on fire.
"You knew?"I can’t keep the betrayal out of my voice."You knew he was planning on kicking me out, and you didn’t do anything to stop him?"
Gram holds my gaze."Rachel, it’s for the best.If we don’t pull the Band-Aid off right now, you’ll never move on.You’ll never get better.You’ll neverlive."
I recoil as if she’d slapped me.Get better?It’s not like childhood trauma can be discarded and stored away like winter boots.
"I’m fine right where I am!"I yell, spittle spraying from my mouth, my arms flailing about.
"But you’re not, and you can’t see that.Trust me, in a few months, you’re going to be happy about this change.It’s going to bring wonderful new things into your life.I feel it in my bones."
I’m too stunned by this betrayal to even cry.I take steps backward, small at first, gradually growing larger, until I’m across the room from my grandmother."I’m happy here."
"Rachel, be real.You’re only a breath above catatonic.I’ve already lost one granddaughter because of a disease in her brain.I’m not going to lose another one."
Her words feel like a physical strike."I’m sorry my mental health is too much for you to bear.I’ll start searching for an apartment today."I whirl around and begin to stomp out.At the last minute, I throw one last parting shot over my shoulder."I only hope that the Sharon I’m moving to accepts me for me, since you never will."
That was childish.I’ll probably regret talking to my grandmother like that at some point in the future, but for right now, I can’t be sorry.I’m too angry.Too hurt.They want me out?I’m out.
Chapter 5: TJ
"Thanks for agreeing to do the Soccer for Sibs thing."Brandon Nix practically grunts as he bench-presses a cool buck ninety-five.Considering he only weighs about one seventy-five, it’s impressive.
"Yeah, no problem.What exactly do I have to do anyway?"I add another plate onto the bar, not to be outdone by him.At this rate, I’m going to give myself a hernia, but I don’t want him to think less of me for not being able to lift as much as he can.
"We’re doing a clinic.Basic skills and drills.Last time I looked, you and Landon are stationed together to work on passing.We thought it’d be easier to have two for that."
"I just have to kick the ball for a while and pose for pictures?"
"No, you have to teach these kids how to kick the ball.And there will be tons of photo ops and autograph signings.You know, the stuff you live for."He’s replaced the bar onto the rack and stands up, ready to go.
I reach down into my sock and pull out the Sharpie I carry at all times."I’m ready."
Brandon laughs."You’re a piece of work."
I don’t know exactly what he means by that, but it doesn’t sound positive."Just trying to give the fans what they want."
The Sharpie thing started as a joke with Joey and Nicky one day when we were out grabbing some beers, and some chick approached me for my autograph.When I didn’t have anything to sign it with, she pulled out her lipstick and wanted me to sign her chest.I signed a napkin instead because the whole thing made me feel a little sleazy.No one will ask you to sign their breasts with a permanent marker.Now I come prepared, so I’m not put in that position again.
Everyone else thinks it’s because I’m so conceited.
My awkward reaction to the whole situation naturally made it into one of Joey’s stand-up routines.My candid, unscripted moments have been fodder for my family’s entertainment for years.Joey owes me some royalties from his routines because he talks about me so frequently.
