The next morning I woke up feeling exhausted. What I thought would be peaceful dreams of me and Becky turned out to be disturbing images of us falling. One moment we were laughing and twirling around, like we did yesterday in the rain. Then the next we were just flying through the air, straight down. I don’t know from where, or why it was happening, but we were smiling the entire time. I don’t understand it, maybe it was just stress. I’m sure there’s some kind of secret meaning to it, maybe I’ll google a dream dictionary later.
Stretching my arms up above my head, I then feel my sore muscles from briefly sleeping on the floor. I decide it’s time to get out of bed, and get dressed.
Walking over to my dresser, I grab a pair of denim shorts that were sitting right on top. Then scattering the pile of clothes I knocked to the floor last night, I pick out a white tank top and a pink bikini. Then I headed for the bathroom to do my morning routine.
After getting dressed, I began to head downstairs, instead of hiding out in my room, like I originally planned. I figured I’d have to face her sooner or later. Although I preferred later, I didn’t want to be afraid of what comes next. Face your fears, right?
I bravely made my way to the kitchen, headed straight to the fridge to grab some milk, maybe a bowl of cereal. I haven’t decided yet, so I just stood there with the door open, drinking from the milk carton. Cereal or eggs, oh the choices. I put the carton back, thinking that a scrambled egg with toast sounds good this morning.
As I’m reaching for the tub of butter, I hear my mom call for me from the dining room.
“Here it goes,” I say, closing the door to the fridge.
Entering the dining room, I notice Tyler sitting on one end of the six seater table, wearing his flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. And my mom on the other end, still wearing the same jeans and blouse she wore the day before. Not looking at each other, my mom was glaring holes in the wood, and my brother was staring off towards the corner of the room. This didn’t look good.
“Take a seat, Lisa,” my mom said, without even a glance in my direction.
I take the seat closest to me, crossing my arms on top of the walnut finish, just waiting.
The last time we had a family discussion was when my dad left. We sat at this table, in these same seats, not looking at each other. I remember mom’s tear streaked face. And the anger she flashed dad as he explained that even though he loved us he wouldn’t be staying with us anymore. At the time mom would call it a separation. Trying to give herself some hope that he was coming back, but he wasn’t. I had the same hopes, but only at first.
Dad couldn’t even tell us about the other woman he was leaving our mom for. Some 20 something tramp he met overseas. We had to find out when the wedding invitation came in the mail a month later. We didn’t go of course.
“I have talked to Becky’s parents about,” she hesitated, “about the incident. And I have decided that it’s good for the family if we move.”
“What? You can’t be serious.” I say, expecting a laugh or a joking smile, but I got nothing. “Mom, no!”
I stare in disbelief, looking from my mom to my brother. Tyler is just sitting there, indifferent as he looks up at me and shrugs. I can tell that this wasn’t news to him. Or he just didn’t care.
“We’ll be going to stay with Aunt Jean’s for a while. She has a couple of extra bedrooms since your cousins moved out.”
“You’re seriously thinking that moving will help?” I ask, looking back at my mom, “what are you hoping the outcome will be?”
“It’ll keep you away from her, out of. Out of trouble.”
“You think moving will make me straight? I’m a lesbian. You can’t change that by switching towns.”
“Don’t use that word in this house!” she says, her head snapping up in anger.
“What word? Straight? I’m a lesbian, so shouldn’t that word offend me?”
“Lisa, stop it!”
“No!” I scream and stand up, not caring that the chair I had been sitting in hits the floor with a crack. “Does that word offend you, Tyler?” He doesn’t look up, but he clearly shakes his head no.
Then looking back at my mom, “The world doesn’t change simply because you don’t like the way it is! And I’m damn sure not going to change who I am just to make you more comfortable.”
“Who you are? You’re sixteen! You don’t know who you are!”
“You’re wrong mom, I know exactly who I am. I’m your daughter. The same girl you use to push on the swing at the park, the one you taught to braid her own hair. I’m the girl you raised since birth. And I’m in love with another girl. Get over it!”
For a moment all we do is stare daggers at each other, both of us too angry to cry. But all the hurt is visible in our eyes.
“We are moving in a week, go pack your things. That’s final,” she says, getting off of her chair and storming out of the room. A tiny moment later I hear the front door slam, and the revving of an engine not long after. I didn’t know where she was going, but I was happy she was gone.
Looking down at Tyler, I notice that he hasn’t moved. He looked like a robot, just sitting there, showing no emotion. How can he be so indifferent? He should be screaming his head off, or at least kicking the wall. If not for himself, then for my benefit. There use to be a time where one of us was angry then we were both angry. If I was sad, then he was sad along with me.
Feeling panicky, the tears did come and I quickly wiped my eyes to clear my vision. I ran back to my room, and began pacing from my dresser to my wall, arms crossed and shaking. We’re moving, and that’s final? Is there really othing I could do about it? Would I really be leaving this house, this town, and Becky? I can’t, I’ve got to find a way out of this.
How could my mom do this to me! I’ve lived here almost my entire life, and she thinks she can just uproot me and throw us around? Take us away from the only life we know and expect us to start over? All this because I kissed a girl and she can’t handle that. It’s all dads’ fault, if he hadn’t left us then maybe my life would have some feel of normalcy to it.
Stopping at my dresser, I picked up a small figurine my dad gave me on the day he left. I turned it over in my hand, looking at the glittery flower base, and the white shimmering body of the unicorn. I don’t know why I kept this. It wasn’t a happy memory, for any of us. It left me feeling abandoned, it hurt when I looked at it. And with that thought, I threw it against my wall and watched the shards rain down.
I look up to see my brother standing in my doorway, watching me.
“Get out, Tyler,” I say angrily. But he doesn’t listen, as he walks into my room towards the pile of shards on the floor. I watch as he kneels down and starts picking up the pieces.
I moved to lie on my bed as new tears formed. And I shoved my face in my pillow in an attempt to dry my eyes. I hear behind me the sound of glass hitting the metal trash bin near my desk. Then a dip in the bed tells me that Tyler had come to sit next to me.
“Please, just leave me alone,” I say, it came out muffled through my pillow. I wanted nothing more than to just be alone and wait for the sun to go down. I knew it was still morning, and I had a long wait to go.
He hasn’t moved, hasn’t said a word, he’s just sitting there. Just like the rock he was this morning, when I was screaming and he took no notice.
Still angry at his non-reaction this morning, I yell at him, “This is all your fault!” Still muffled by the pillow.
I hear him sigh before saying, “I’m sorry, if I knew all this crap would happen then I wouldn’t have said nothing, ya know?”
I feel his hand touch my back, rubbing gentle circles, trying to console me. No words come to mind as I continue to cry. This is the brother I use to know. Caring and apologetic when he thinks he has harmed me in any way.
“Why don’t you just let her go then?”
“I love her!”
“It’s just a thought but, it just seems that if maybe you could pretend to not see her, you’d still be with her,” he said, and I knew it made sense, but I didn’t see that as an option.
“I can’t do that, I’m tired of lying, that’s all we hear anymore. I don’t understand why she is doing this. Why?” I say, turning my head to the side.
He hesitates before answering, “Ya know, she’s in our generation, but she’s not from our generation. She doesn’t know how to deal.”
“Then she should learn.” It seemed so simple.
“Yea, she should,” he mumbled more to himself. It made me wonder if maybe he had a secret of his own.
I didn’t think much more on it, before long I was drifting off. With Tyler still sitting beside me and rubbing my back.