Page 38 of Risking it All

Like always, Mom and Dad were up waiting for me. They were standing at the island in our kitchen, Mom with a cup of tea in her hand. At the sight of me, they both broke into huge, somewhat confused smiles. “Hey, Mace,” Dad said. “Good night?”

“The best.” I hung my keys on the hook by the door. “You don’t have to wait up for me.”

Last summer, when I worked late and then went out with friends, it was understood that I had to be home by midnight. They’d trusted me and were asleep in bed when I returned home. But like so many other things, their waiting up was one more thing that had changed.

Neither one of them answered, and I understood they would wait up for me for the rest of their lives. As I began heading for stairs, I stopped dead in my tracks. “Dang it.”

“What?” Dad asked.

“I forgot to fill my car up with gas.” Not that it was a huge deal, but now Relic needed to meet me earlier, and I had no idea if that would cause conflicts with his schedule with Camila.

“I’ll do it.” Dad grabbed his shoes by the door then sat at the table to put them on.

That wasn’t what I had intended, and I felt guilt. “You don’t have to do that.”

Dad stood, gave me a side hug, and placed a kiss on my temple. “I want to.” He grabbed my keys off the hook and left out the door to the garage.

I shuffled from one foot to the other. “He didn’t need to do that.”

Mom set her cup on the island. “Your dad would literally give you the world if he could.”

I knew that, but I also didn’t understand why we had moments when we fought so hard.

“Want some chamomile tea?” Mom asked. “The kettle’s still hot, so it won’t take long.”

I felt like an energized live wire after kissing Relic, and maybe the tea would help calm me so that I could get some actual sleep. I sat at the island and watched as Mom put on the tea kettle then fished out a cup. “How was work?” Mom asked.

“Good. We met attendance goals, so management was happy, but we were understaffed, so I had to do some creative maneuvering to make sure everyone had their breaks on time.”

“That’s good to hear on the attendance, and I’m sure you did an amazing job with the breaks.” That was Mom, my phenomenal personal cheerleader. “How was the friend get-together?” The kettle whistled and she poured the hot water in the cup.

“Good,” I answered. She slid the cup toward me, and I swirled the teabag. Ever since I was a child, I enjoyed the calming ritual of watching the bag dance in the water.

“Which friends were there?”

“Gianna, of course. Most of the girls from the volleyball team. Gianna was drunk by the time we left, but one of the sober girls from the team agreed to drive her home.”

“Do you feel like her drinking is getting out of hand?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “She’s changed a lot, but so have I, so I don’t know how to judge myself or anyone.”

Mom reached over and squeezed my hand. She wore a short-sleeved shirt that revealed the faded scars from the traumatic event she survived when she was a teenager. The red marks zigzagged over her arms. “After what you went through, did you feel like everything and everyone changed so quickly it was hard to keep up?” I inquired.

“I felt like I was in a constant stage of whiplash.”

“Did you lose friends?” I thought of Gianna.

“Yes. Lila stayed by my side, but I lost all my other friends. I made new ones, though. The best of friends.” That was when she had met the people that we considered family now. “I know I make it sound like it was so easy, so seamless, but it wasn’t. There were days I thought I would never be happy again, but I did find happiness. A better happiness than I had before. It’s hard to see it, but this moment is just a quick flash in your life. An awful moment, and all the horrible feelings you have are valid, but time does ease pain. What you went through will always be there, but you will find happiness.”

Was Mom right? Could I ever sit in a car again without feeling this crushing fear? Would I ever be able to talk about February without feeling like I was choking? Not sure, I returned to swirling the teabag in the cup.

“Anyone in particular you enjoyed seeing tonight?” Mom asked, and without meaning to, my eyes snapped to hers. Mom gave a soft smile as she settled into a stool across from me. “So, there is someone special.”

“I didn’t say that,” I replied too quickly.

“When you said you left the party, you said “we” left the party. Not I.”

My mouth gaped and my brain froze. I could lie like I had been lying about so many other things to her. The smart thing to do would be to lie because I had enough going on in my life, and I didn’t need Dad being all overprotective about a guy. Relic and I were easy, and I wanted to keep it that way. But I didn’t want to lie because part of me longed to talk to Mom about Relic. Also, I was caught. “Will you tell Dad?”

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