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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
OCTOBER 2012
Of course, the one time I really needed Dad to be around for family dinner, he was running late.
Amy was at a friend’s house, as per usual, and Ash had gone over to Sean and Brian’s house to give me the space I needed to talk with my parents.
Each minute that ticked by that Dad didn’t walk through the front door made my courage dwindle down to almost nothing. My forehead was coated in sweat, and I couldn’t stop twitching my hands as I moved around the kitchen and helped Mom prepare dinner.
When Dad was thirty minutes late, I finally asked, “Where’s Dad?”
Mom wiped her hands on her pastel pink apron and shrugged. “I think he was running by the office and then getting a beer with a coworker.”
I wanted to lash out at my own mother just because she didn’t know where he was or when he’d be home. I clutched the kitchen counter with both hands and forced air into my lungs. I could feel Mom’s piercing stare on me from where she stood. When I looked over at her, she had one of her eyebrows raised in that questioning look that mothers have when they know something’s wrong.
“Dinner is ready. Your father can take it or leave it. Fix us a couple of plates and I’ll pour us some lemonade. Then, we are going to sit down and you’re going to spill whatever it is you're holding back.” Her accent was thick, which only happened when she was mad or serious about something. All I could do was nod in agreement.
After sitting down at the table and sending up a half-assed prayer, she didn’t bother touching her food. Mom took a long sip of her lemonade and crossed her arms.
“Well?” Mom asked, expectantly.
My hands trembled underneath the table. “I wanted to talk to you and Dad.”
Mom shrugged. “You know how your dad is. He may not even be home for another hour or so. Talk to me,amorcito.”
Mom always knew when something was up. She could sense these things from miles away, almost like she could smell it on my skin. With gritted teeth, I forced the words out of my mouth, because if I didn’t do it now, I wouldn’t. And that would just upset her even more.
“I want to drop out. Of school,” I clarified. I immediately cursed myself in my head for saying itlike that.I refused to look her way. “Because I want to focus on music.” I looked down at the food on my plate which only made me nauseous. I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn’t look up. Instead, I swallowed down the uncomfortable knot in my throat.
“Okay,” Mom said slowly. “Can you elaborate a little more?”
“I know you and Dad want me to be in school. And you might not let me live here if I drop out…I–I just don’t like it, Mom. The classes bore me, and no area of concentration sounds right. Nothingfits.The only time I’m happy and can see a future for myself is when I’m drumming.”
My breaths were shallow, and my fingertips felt numb, but I decided to meet her gaze. To my surprise, they weren’t squinty or cold like they sometimes got when she was upset. She nodded and took a bite of dinner.
“Did you want this before or after Asher came to live here?” Mom asked after several awkward minutes of silence.
Out of all the questions I’d feared, I hadn’t thought she would ask something like that.
I shook my head. “Before.”
Mom clucked her tongue and took another bite. “Are you—forming a band? With those two young men who are always over these days?”
Her question made me smirk a little, despite my nerves. “Brian and Sean, Mom. And yes. We just got our first show lined up.”
Mom nodded thoughtfully, then reached out across the table for me. I placed a large, clammy hand in her small one.
“Mijo, if this is something you want to pursue, then you must.No puedes ignorar tu corazón.It’s not healthy to ignore your passions. I do worry about this path, and I’m sure your father will, too, but that’s not because we do not support you, okay?” She squeezed my hand. “Anything with the arts is hard, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it. Just promise me two things?”
“Yeah?” I breathed.
She moved her thumb over my hand, and I felt my shoulders relax an inch. “First, if it doesn’t work out or you make no progress after several years, promise to reevaluate.” I nodded. “Second, don’t threaten me with moving out yet. You are still working, and you workhard. We want you here until you want to be on your own. Just don’t leave quite yet.” Mom winked at me as a couple of tears ran down my cheeks and onto my dinner plate.
“¿Nene?”
I looked at her.
“Why were you so scared to tell me this? Hmm?”
