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It wasn’t the first time that we had been to a game at The Garden. It wasn’t even the first time we’d been on the kiss-cam—although the last time it happened she palmed my face and pushed me into the aisle (which got a lot of cheers). It would be easy to say that tonight was different because we were different, but it was the same, too. We still teased and Chase still stole the last of my popcorn and tried to get me to get her a diet coke in the last minute of the game (I only fell for it the one time). We were still us. There was something comforting in that.
23
CHASE
I was startingto think I might have been wrong about Mack and I being able to go back to friends. It might have been possible after our first date. Now, though, after date number three (and, if I was being honest, it was true after date number two), after he walked me home again and kissed me like he was starving and I was food. The line had been crossed.
For whatever reason, I had told myself, had unwaveringly believed, that line was in the bedroom. There was this movie moment in my head, of him and I together and it was that ‘this is it’moment. I figured so long as we didn’t get to that moment we’d be okay. Before we wentall the wayit would be simple enough to pull up the reins and bring this baby to a stop. I was mixing metaphors. It was a sure sign of discombobulation.
I growled under my breath and the woman beside me shot a look from behind her book. And now I was scaring fellow commuters.Great work, Chase, really great work.
In short, I was fucked.
Because there wasn’t one moment that changed everything. It was more pieces falling into place, a growing realization, a slow dawning, and the sky was already well and truly pinkish over here. But I refused to accept the truth of the situation. Accepting that meant I had far too much to lose and I just couldn’t do it.
I suppose, then, I should be grateful for today’s activities and the distraction they would provide.
It was a short walk home from the subway and, despite not living here for a solid ten years, it was still home. I didn’t know how it could be anything else. The narrow row house was white with salmon-colored shutters and a small porch I had lived on in the summer. It was the first place since Aunt Peggy's that had actually felt like home because it was just ours. Unlike every other weird-smelling, drafty place we’d lived in from Idaho to Tennessee. I had never understood Mom’s need to pack up and leave as soon as she went through another break up.
Now, though, I was starting to get it.
“I didn’t think I’d see you today,” Mom said, giving only the barest glance over her shoulder as I walked into the empty kitchen. She was in business mode; no makeup, no earrings, her ashy hair secured in a large clip up and out of the way. She was getting shit done today. And she was beautiful, even when I was mad at her. Even when I knew she was mad at me.
“I told you I’d be here, didn’t I?” I was well aware of how childish I sounded but I couldn’t stop it. Selling this house, it wasn’t just the house, it was Peggy too. She was the only reason we could afford it in the first place, the only reason I could go to Carrington, the only reason I wasn’t buried under student loans after college. The woman was like a grandmother and a guardian angel and it just didn’t feel right to be letting it go.
“I miss her, too.” The words were so low I almost missed them. Mom turned and bumped a hip against the kitchen counter. “She was the only one who accepted me, after everything.”
“You mean when you got pregnant with me.” It was sometimes difficult to feel great about your existence when both your father and grandparents didn’t want you. When you were considered a mistake.
“Even before. I was different from the rest of my family, so was Peggy. I think it’s why she was always my favorite. She blazed her own path and that made other people uncomfortable. But there are better ways to honor her memory than to keep a house that neither of us are living in.”
The temptation to say that she might live in it again when things didn't work out with Derrick was strong. I held the words back, not keen to make the tensions running between us worse than they already were.
“She would have been proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I swallowed against the spontaneous tightness in my throat. I didn’t often let myself think of Peggy. It hurt too much, and the memories of her were faded now, so much so I wasn’t sure what was real and what I’d made up from looking at photos. I’d only been three or four when we left the stability of Peggy’s home. I’d go and visit over the summers but Mom and I didn’t go back for any real length of time until she was sick. And because she hadn’t told us until there wasn’t anything left to be done we only had a few months before she was gone. Stubborn old thing. Mom was right, she did blaze her own path and wouldn’t be told by anyone. Her raspy voice floated through my head,I miss you like I love you, baby girl—madly. Twenty years last July and her loss still hurt like hell.
“I’m proud of you too, you know.” The words were wobbly, Mom wasn't good at fighting. She wasn’t a grudge holder like I was.
“I know, Mom.” I let myself be wrapped in her hug and sunk into it. She had smelled the same for as long as I could remember. Roses and fresh laundry and something else that was just her. Probably some perfume that had long been discontinued but she somehow had a black market supply of the stuff. Peggy had been the same, her scent a specific and comforting combination that was forever imprinted in my brain. Tobacco, jasmine and cedar. I’d tried to have it replicated over the years but could never get it quite right.
“We never needed a place to be home, we had each other. We’ll always have each other, Chase. You’ll always have me, you have to know that.”
“I do know that, Mom.” I squeezed her tighter, once again not willing to spill the words that sat hot on the tip of my tongue. It was selfish of me to be mad for having to share her. I was an adult, and she deserved a life of her own. At least we had today, just she and I, soaking in memories of how our lives had once looked. I was genuinely scared for what I was going to find in my old closet.
“Ah, Chase! You’re here. I wasn’t sure we were going to see you today!” Derrick said and just like that all those warm and fuzzy feelings evaporated. I worked really hard to school my features that so desperately wanted to settle into a deep sneer. Mom’s hand twitched ever so slightly on my waist.
“Derrick, hey, I didn’t realize I’d be seeingyoutoday.” I stepped out of Mom’s grip and shot her a bland smile that I hoped didn’t communicate too much of what was going on in my head. “I’ll be upstairs.”
“I’ll bring up some boxes and trash bags!” she called after me.
I knew I needed to be okay with this relationship, and I was, for the most part. But that didn’t mean I was okay with him being here today. We were dismantling our old lives so she could move forward with her new one, so she could move forward with him. Did he really need to be present while we picked through the carcass? Did he not have a fucking job? It was ten on Thursday morning, that was usually when people were at their desks in their offices, right?
Oh god, he wasn’t going to get half of this place when we sold, was he? Was that why he was so enthusiastic about moving us out, because he was set to gain? I pushed the thought aside. Mom might be dopey in love with the guy but she wasn’t going to let him take half of what was ours.
After a brief pause on the landing I pushed open the door to my old room. The space was a time capsule of young Chase. Everything I’d wanted when I moved out came with me and the rest had stayed behind to gather dust and remind me of simpler, more cringe-worthy times.
The mirror was still ringed with photos from school, showing the numerous phases I passed through before I knew who I was. Although, admittedly, I still wasn’t entirely sure who that was a lot of the time.
