Page 19 of Sometimes You Fall

“You just threw up on the side of the road,” he says, as if I didn’t just experience it myself.

“I’m aware.”

“Was your stomach bugging you earlier?”

“Not really. It just came on out of nowhere.”

He snaps his fingers and gives me one of those looks that I usually give him, like he’s the adult and I’m the child that never listens. “You probably ate too many snacks, and they didn’t agree with your stomach.” He waves a finger in front of my face. “You always tell me not to eat too much junk, and look what happened to you.”

Swatting his hand away, I head back to the car, opening the passenger door to reach in and grab my water. I take a few small sips, rinsing the inside of my mouth before spitting the water in the dirt. I gulp down a few drinks to see how it feels in my stomach. “I didn’t eat that much junk.”

Chase starts ticking off items on his fingers. “Chips, candy bars, sour candy…”

“All right,” I cut him off. “I may have gone a bit overboard with the road tripsnacks.”

“Honestly, I was a little worried. You normally would pack us crackers, cheese, meat, and some sort of fruit. You know, healthy crap.”

“Well, I wanted to get on the road and live a little. Road trip snacks are a treat, and I know you weren’t excited about this drive…”

“I didn’t want to leave Winterville, Mom.” His expression turns angry in an instant, the playfulness of his voice gone.

“I know you didn’t, honey, but I promise…”

“You can’t promise anything.” He walks away from me, over to his side of the car where he throws himself in the back seat again, leaving me alone as cars whiz past.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and blow it out. Being a mother is hard, especially to a teenager. I’m convinced that the inventor of alcohol had a teenager at home.

Shielding my eyes from the sun, I glance back at the car. Chase may think his whole world is ending, but I know in my bones that it’s really just beginning.

He needs this. I need this. I can’t stand seeing my son hurt anymore. The broken promises, ignored texts, and lack of support—he doesn’t deserve any of it. If putting some distance between us and a place that holds more pain than joy is the only way for him to see his worth, I will gladly make that happen. Even if it means enduring his attitude, leaving my job in the middle of the school year, and moving back to my hometown that holds painful memories from my own childhood.

It also holds Grady, but that’s a problem I can worry about later.

I settle into the driver’s seat, start the car, and ease back into traffic, feeling a million times better than I did before I got sick. Maybe Chase was right. I just ate too much junk. Lord knows that’s not how I normally fuel my body, and now I know to take it easy on any future road trips.

***

“They’re here! Brenda, they’re here!” Gigi—my grandma—comes traipsing down the front porch steps of my mother’s house just as Chase and I exit the car. She pulls Chase into her arms for a hug, ruffling his curly hair that falls over his eyes as he stands nearly a foot above her. “What is with the mop on your head, boy?”

“Uh, that’s my hair.” He pushes it out of his eyes, but it falls right back into place.

“It looks like you haven’t cut it since we saw you for Christmas.” She glances over at me. “Why haven’t you taken this boy to get a haircut?”

“He doesn’t want to cut it. This is how the kids are wearing it these days.”

The corner of her lip curls up in disgust. “I don’t understand today’s youth, but if looking like a cross between a poodle and boy is the trend, there’s no use fighting it.” She shrugs. “Just don’t get upset when you run into shit because you can’t see where you’re going.” She pats him on the shoulder and then moves around him to greet me. “Speaking of, youlooklike shit.”

“Good to see you too, Gigi.” I pull her into an embrace, knowing not to take her criticism to heart. My grandmother has always had a way with words, in the sense that she doesn’t care about which ones she uses. She’s honest, opinionated, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. She’s honestly my idol and part of the reason I had the courage to move me and my son away from our home of the past fifteen years. I channeled my inner Gigi.

“Seriously. You’re kind of pale.”

“She got sick on the side of the highway,” Chase says as my mother comes down the porch from the house.

“You threw up?”

“I think I just ate too much junk.” I rub my stomach. “But I feel fine now.”

My mother pulls me in for a hug. “Yup. You probably just ate something that didn’t agree with you.” When she releases me, she cups the side of my face. “My baby is home.”

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