Page 51 of The Pretender


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Adela is quiet.

I fold the letter and return it to the envelope. The scholarship offer is great, but not unexpected.

My stepmother sinks back into the overstuffed armchair and stares at her hands. “You didn’t tell me you applied to ESU.”

She’s confused. I’ve always talked about getting far away from Devil Valley, envisioning a big city life at one of the nation’s top universities. That’s why I take the bus back and forth to Black Mountain Academy every day. She knows that I would not have needed Black Mountain credentials to attend ESU. I could have just gone to Devil Valley High.

“I should have mentioned it.”

“Did you apply there because of Ben?”

“No. I applied before I started seeing Ben.”

Her voice becomes very small. “Did you apply there because of me?”

I set the envelope down on top of the box I was wrapping, a gift for Ben. “I thought it might be a good idea if I stay close to home for college.”

Adela is unhappy. “You’ve always planned to go away. If not an Ivy League school then one of the other fine universities. It’s what you have worked for all this time.”

“I know.” My legs are still tucked under me as I sit on the floor beside the Christmas tree and I smooth the folds of my dress, the one Adela made for my birthday. “But things change.”

“Camden, my illness should not end your dreams.”

My chest begins to feel heavy. This conversation has to happen at some point. “You’re not ending my dreams. I’m just making different ones.”

A movement catches my eye and I see the ornament dangling just a few feet away, a gift to me from Adela the year she married my father. It’s a porcelain angel and her hair is the same color as mine. Her painted smile is serene. Every year I unpack it from its box with great care and hang it in a place of honor.

Adela shakes her head. “You have many options. You should think about this some more.”

I’ve thought about this more than she realizes. “I don’t need to. These last six months I started reevaluating what’s important to me. And I don’t want to be so far from my family. If I go to ESU I’ll be close enough to come home on weekends. To see Frankie’s wrestling matches sometimes and cook spaghetti for my dad now and then. And I’ll be close if…”

“If I don’t get well,” she finishes softly.

“You will get well.” I say this because I need it to be true. We all do. My throat is thick with tears and I don’t want her to see me cry. I scoot closer on my knees and lay my head in her lap. This is something a child would do and I’m no longer a child but I do it all the same because she’s my mother and I need her.

“Mom,” I whisper and she strokes my hair. I close my eyes and after a moment she begins to sing a soft lullaby. She used to sing this to Frankie when he was younger and would occasionally suffer asthma attacks. The words are all in Spanish and I don’t understand them but I do understand the song is the sound of love.

My father emerges from his nap, sits up and smiles at the sight of his wife and his daughter enjoying a tender moment. His smile grows when he hears that I’ll be attending nearby Eagle State University on a full scholarship. He doesn’t question my explanation that I don’t want to go far away after all. He rises from the couch and pulls us to our feet.

“This is shaping up to be a fabulous Christmas,” he says, wrapping us both into a hug with his strong arms.

Frankie walks in and stares at the scene. He’s got cookie crumbs on his cheek. “What’s going on?”

“Family hug.” I hold one arm out and invite him in.

Frankie treats us to an adolescent eye roll but he traipses over and I hug him around the neck whether he wants me to or not. It’s funny how you live in certain moments with the certainty that you’ll think of them often in the years to come. This is one of those moments.

Adela remembers there’s a ham in the oven and my dad offers to check on it. Tomorrow we’ll drive to Pennington to see my grandmother but for tonight’s Christmas Eve celebration it’s just us. And Ben.

I keep one eye on the clock while I finish wrapping presents, watch Elf with Frankie and then set the table in preparation for dinner. At promptly six fifteen the doorbell rings and I practically fly to the front door because I know Ben is on the other side.

My heart still flutters every time I see him and I wonder if this reaction will ever fade. I hope not. Ben gives me a smile and for the millionth time I silently marvel over how insanely gorgeous he is.

And he’s mine.

“Hey you,” he says, his grin full of mischief. He’s thinking about our earlier rendezvous in his bedroom. I’m thinking of that too. I’m also thinking about how this is the first time I’ve ever had a boyfriend during the holidays.

The winter darkness is so much friendlier on Christmas Eve. As I step outside it seems like as much as I’ve always loved this season, I’ve never loved it as much as I do this year.

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