Loving Life

Chapter 46: Ervin

         

During breakfast, my parents smile largely and throw question after question at Mattie. Leslie kicks me when she realizes I'm practically drooling at Mattie.

"What?" I hiss. "This food is delish." She grins and shakes her fork at me.

Two hours after we sat down, I suggest Mattie and I be on our way.

Yet the four sit there, totally ignoring me. They do the dishes a few minutes later, still keeping the conversation going. I figure, "Screw this," and start the search on my own.

It doesn't take long; I look up 'Christy Hines obituary,' read each entry that comes up until I'm sure it's Mattie's parents. 'Passed away on June fifteenth tornado...Mother of Mattie Genevieve Hines...previously lived in Wichita Falls, Texas; Fort Worth, Texas; and Midwest City, Oklahoma...was an orthopedic surgeon at AMG Hospital in Edmond...married to Mark Ansley Hines...' I also look up her father, and sure enough, the obituaries are practically the same. And they're laid right beside each other in the cemetery.

"Mom, we haven't got all day." Finally. The group slowly makes their way to the door. It's slow, but it's still progress.

Julia hugs her tight, John holds out a hand. Mattie stoops down a foot to give Leslie a hug. As she hugs Julia, I hear, "You're the best that he's brought home. Hopefully, we'll see you over here again." I roll my eyes and walk out before I can say anything else.

I'm three-fourths the way to my car when she catches up. "I'm sorry about that," she apologizes.

I shrug and give her a kiss. God, I hope my parents aren't oohing and aawing out the windows lining the door. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. My parents really like you." I don't mention that I overheard my mother. Mattie purses her lips in a small smile.

"So where are we headed?" She practically bounces with nerves once we enter the highway.

I hand her my phone set to take us to Rolling Oaks Memorial Gardens Cemetery, twenty minutes away.

For an hour, we scour the huge graveyard, commenting on names and dates. She keeps an eye ahead and stops when we near her parents.

"These are my parents," she notes blandly. I can see she's flustered and at peace. "I just don't get why no one told me where they were being buried or if they were alive. I don't even see how I managed to hold onto my phone. It must really be valuable." She rubs a finger against the slightly cracked screen. "It's been through so much, but hasn't heard the news of my parents."

My hand circles her back in a consolatory way. "Well, maybe they thought you knew where they'd be buried. Maybe they thought you were dead also and figured they wouldn't say."

She spins on her toes. "They never told me anything. I don't remember anything enjoyable, like the way I remember enjoyable things with you or Dianne. We never bonded over anything.

"They always forced me to do things I didn't want to do. When I was four, they put me in dance without telling me. Supposedly I was good because they never took me out and the instructors always said how good I was. They suggested I audition for the Rockettes, but I had no interest in dance. I tried asking out of it but never got back to me.

"They enrolled me in track, gymnastics, and every other sport. They threatened me when my grades were in danger of falling beneath an A minus. They said I should join key club. They said I should join FCCLA. They said I should join Model UN and all these things I hated. I felt they wouldn't speak to me if I didn't do as they suggested—more like said. So I joined everything.

"I never slept. I also had to have a party life and had an 11:30 weekday-1:00-weekend curfew. They were so proud of their daughter who did everything they 'suggested' because they thought they were so smart. They thought they were the greatest parents on earth. They always held their head high and bragged about me. Somehow, I managed to hold onto what teens were programmed to do: I didn't disobey, but I lied and had fun and drank and did things my parents would kill me over.

"So am I glad they're dead? Hell yeah!" she screams, throwing her arms around me and burying her head in my chest.

"I'm sure none of that's true."

She slaps me in the face. I was totally not expecting that.

"I never had a life. Sure, Dianne's better, but she's still protective. I'm nineteen. I slept with you last night."

"See? You're finally learning to tell her that. You're no longer a child. You've legally been an adult for a year."

"I know. I just can't stand up for myself." She looks into my eyes and I finally see everything she's been hiding. So much pain. I didn't grow up until last year—that's when I was fully embarrassed to be seen with my family, even if we were in the house. Mattie grew up a long time ago. I tell her this and she smiles.

"Come on. Dianne probably wants you home." I wink, hoping she'll get the hint.

"You're right. I do need to live a little."

Later that afternoon, we arrive at a dress shop with Brenda waiting outside, arms crossed and looking annoyed. I walk Mattie over to her and say, "I'll walk around while you two do your thing. I'm not much for fancy clothes." I stick my tongue out.

"And I'm not?" Brenda and Mattie say together. We all break out in a huge laughing fit and they head in.

While they're in doing their thing, I think about what Mattie said earlier. While her parents forced her into everything, mine begged for me to do the same thing. Yet she took everything in stride and still managed to be at the top of her class and live a little, albeit not as much as she should.

Before I know it, they're waiting outside, talking up a storm. Mattie has a dry cleaners bag slung over one arm. As I approach, I ask, "Can I see what it looks like?"

She smirks. "No."

I slap my knee. "Oh darn. Brenda, how long until I see both of you all fancied up?"

"August fifth." Her phone buzzes in one of her pockets. "Well, I gotta go. Bye guys." Brenda gives both of us hugs and she's gone.

Mattie's phone also buzzes. She rolls her eyes. I guess, "Dianne?"

"How'd you know?"