ᴊᴜɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴏɴᴅ ʙᴏʏ
what do you know? there i was, in the same spot i stood in march of 1979, only this time the casket in front of me held my mothers body.
if it weren't for my aunts and uncles, and my best friend hayden, i would've been standing alone, even in the large crowd that surrounded my mom's casket.
my father wasn't there. he was too busy spending the rest of his life in prison for the murder of my mother.
yep, murder.
told you he was psycho.
after the death of my mom's best friend, she began smoking and drinking heavily, so bad to the point she actually contacted my father, (which was once forbidden in my household) and one night they ran off together, never to return again.
that night wasn't a very good night. i'd been in my bedroom working on my homework when i heard the door slam followed by loud laughter and other random noises. i took my eyes off the paper and turned my cassette player off to hear better.
my mothers laughter sounded like heaven. i hadn't heard it since before cynthia passed away. i zoomed out of my room and to the staircase to see what all the commotion was about, but i stopped abruptly at about the fifth step when i realized what was going on.
there was my mother, in the arms of my father who planted kisses all over her face. i noticed the large bottle of alcohol in her hand, then realized her laughs were drunken giggles. my dad looked up at me while still kissing my mom and gave me a weird look that i couldn't quite read before turning his attention back to my mom. what was he planning this time? a fix-it baby? another shotgun wedding?
if only i knew what he was really planning.
i cleared my throat as i stepped up on the small platform, unfolding the paper i held in my hands. i scanned around the crowd and locked eyes with james. i hadn't seen him since his mother's funeral. he looked a bit different, with longer hair and a different style of clothing that his mom would probably scold him for wearing. he stayed a few feet away from everybody else, but kept his attention on me.
i was horrified that i'd make a fool of myself.
here goes nothing,
"um... i'm no poet, so... yeah." i began. i felt a lump already forming in my throat as my aunt burst into tears before i even started.
"my dearest mother. my number one supporter, role model, and hero." i swallowed thickly. "in the midst of all the trauma throughout my childhood, there was loren whitlock, who played the role of two parents, and she did it in such a way that i never even paid attention to that trauma. in baggy, paint covered overalls and beat up docs, there was my mother, with her beautiful face and beautiful personality, that i hope to represent one day."
i saw my aunt mouth the words 'you already do.'
"i've had a hard time the last few weeks coping with my mother's death, and i've had an even harder time comprehending how someone could do this to her." i refrained from saying his name. "how someone she loved so dearly could betray her and myself in such a way." i paused.
"but when i look back on it, i realize... she isn't leaving. she's returning home, to a place of warmth and comfort like she once gave me, to a place with no days or years... no more of the sorrow and pain she suffered during her last weeks alive. and even though she's not... here..." i waved my hand in the air, gesturing to the large crowd. "she's here, living in the many hearts she touched." i held a hand to my heart as tears began streaming down my cheeks. "i just wish her return home were under better circumstances."
by the time i ended my eulogy, i was a sobbing mess. i looked up at the crowd, though it was hard to see through my blurry eyes, and when my eyes landed on the empty spot where the blond boy once stood, i felt my heart break just a little bit more, if that were even possible.
i took my hands off the edge of the stand and my knees gave out, but my body was supported before i hit the floor. two strong arms wrapped around my waist and sat me gently on the ground behind the stand to rest for a second. i couldn't even tell who it was, but the voice instantly told me. "i know, i know." james whispered as i buried my face into my hands and sobbed. it wasn't just a pity 'i know' it was a real 'i know' because he did know. he knew exactly how i was feeling. "come on." he said, pulling me up to my feet and leading me down the back stairs of the platform. he didn't smell the way i remembered. not like his mothers soup that lingered in the air of his home that would soak into his clothes. now he smelt like beer and cigarettes with a hint of cologne, which i'd normally hate, but this time it brought me an unusual yet content feeling of comfort.
he walked me to an old beat up truck and unlocked the passenger side for me, then getting in the drivers side.
i slid into the booth and began wiping my wet face that'd been drenched by tears, snot, and runny makeup while james turned the radio volume down a bit. as i collected myself a bit more, the humiliation over my meltdown in front of everybody began flooding in.
"god, that was fucking embarrassing." my voice was hoarse. james stayed silent for a moment as i cleared my scratchy throat and flipped the sun visor down to look in the small mirror. "i look like death." i chuckled a bit.
james laughed a little. "i looked the same."
i looked over at him curiously.
"i mean, besides the makeup and stuff. i just didn't show my face to anyone for weeks." he said. i nodded. "yeah, i noticed you stopped showing up to school."
he nodded. "yeah, well after my mom passed i kinda stopped giving a shit about anything, so..." he trailed off.
i nodded again and took a deep breath which felt good after crying an entire ocean. the sleeves of my jacket were soaked with tears from wiping my eyes.
"you wanna go get food or something?" he asked, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to the faint music. "yeah, please." i nodded. i hadn't eaten anything that morning. "my aunts probably confused where the hell i went and who the hell the strange mop head was that took me away." i laughed.
"mop head?" he scoffed as he pulled out of the parking spot. "hell yeah. it makes you look like a girl." i remembered that day we first officially met.
james ran down the driveway and tapped on my shoulder as we walked toward our house. i stopped walking and turned around, feeling my cheeks heat up a bit as he looked at my skirt and grinned. "your dress is ugly."
i scoffed. "it's a skirt, not a dress, stupid."
"whatever, it's ugly." he shrugged, trudging back up to his house.
"yeah? well your hair is ugly! it makes you look like a girl!" i shouted back up to him before getting pulled away by my mother.
"well, you could've picked a different skirt." he said, pointing to the long black dress i wore. i knew he was thinking about the exact same thing.
"it's a dress." i corrected with but a smile on my face.
"oh whatever, skirt, dress, same thing!" he waved his hands around. i threw my head back in laughter as we pulled up to a small diner. we hopped out of the truck and trudged up the steep sidewalk, entering the quaint restaurant. "this is nice." i commented as we found our seats next to a window. he nodded as he started looking through the menu.
the waitress came up a little bit later and asked what we wanted to drink and eat then went off to retrieve our drinks.
"graduations coming up, right?" he asked.
"yeah, yeah." i nodded, smiling softly. "you excited?" he raised his eyebrows.
my smile faltered a little. i always expected my mother to be there in the crowd when i graduated. "i don't know. i don't mean to bring it up again, but..." i trailed off. he shook his head and muttered "s'okay."
"i kinda always imagined my parents would be there. well, my mom. my dad left that picture a while ago." i chuckled dryly, waving my hand in the air then cringing at how desperate i sounded, but i remembered james went through the same thing.
"me too."
we talked a bit more then our food arrived and we immediately wolfed it down like hungry pigs.
"oh hey, how's that band of yours going?" i asked with a small smirk on my face. he put his fork down and swallowed his food before speaking up. "great, it's great."
"oh yeah?" i raised my eyebrows.
"yeah." he nodded, keeping his eyes locked on the table.
"are you lying?"
"no!" he shot his eyes up at me. "it's..." he struggled. "well, it's going..."
"very slowly." i added.
"yeah." he tilted his head and nodded.
"mhm." i couldn't hold back my laughter.
"hey, laugh it up, but one day you'll be cheering in the biggest crowd of the biggest arena in the world, watching my band—the biggest band in the world—perform." he said, stretching his arms wide to represent the world.
"yeah, alright, rockstar. i'm counting on that." i chuckled to myself.
he shrugged. "you'll be screaming my name one way or another."
i darted my eyes down to the plate as my cheeks scorched. he'd always make little jokes like that simply for the kick he got out of making me flustered. it began in middle school after all the raging hormones began attacking him.
satisfied that he turned the tables on me, he chuckled, shaking his head and twisting his fork around in his food.
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