Page 5 of Fall Wherever They May

I plop down into the driver’s seat of my black Honda Accord. It was bought for me brand new as a high school graduation present nine years ago. A graduation present that I thought came from my mom, but now that the lies and secrets have come tumbling out, I’m beginning to believe this car is yet another gift she didn’t pay for. It seems as though most of the luxuries in my life actually came from the man who I thought was a “deadbeat dad.” I bet this car was bought and paid for in cash by that man too. Releasing a deep breath, I decide it’s time to adjust my perspective and attitude toward the turn my life has unexpectedly taken.This is a new beginning, Aspen.Try to make the most of it.

I glance at my cute little house that we just moved into last week. White planters hang from under the windows waiting to be decorated with pretty flowers. The morning sun beams against the second-story window, causing a glare to hit my eyes and me to squint. We’re renting this place temporarily until everything is sorted and settled, but it’s ours for now. Plus, it’s the nicest home we’ve ever lived in.

When I called the property management company, the realtor told me this little house had just become available to rent for the next nine months, which should be long enough for me to sort out my affairs and find a permanent place. I say little because it’s the smallest one in the neighborhood. Even so, the house is still generous in size. With it being a two-story home with four bedrooms, not to mention the addition of it being fully furnished and in a gated community with a security booth, the rent was almost too good to be true. It’s not as though we’ve ever lived in a dump or an old run-down shack at any point in our lives. Back home was just . . . different . . . simple. This new life is certainly going to take time to adjust to after living on a farm back in Oklahoma.

I start my car, round the driveway and admire the houses in the neighborhood. Our new home looks so out of place compared to the rest of these. It’s one of the oldest in the estate, but I think it possesses a unique charm because of its age. As I focus on the enormous house in front of me, I think back to Saturday.

My plan was to meet the neighbor across the street once I was done introducing myself to the little old lady next door, Ms. Tillman. But, when people started showing up and lingering in the yard, it became evident they were throwing a huge party. So, I decided not to impose. That didn’t stop Tucker from being a little party crasher. I should probably drop by this evening and apologize for my son’s intrusion. Pulling up the notes app on my phone, I add a few things to my grocery list so we can make cookies for them as an apology, then head out of the estate.

I’m pulling out of the store’s parking lot and making my way back home when fumes from the exhaust begin to permeate the air and fill the cabin of my car. I scrunch my nose. Leaning forward, I sniff the air vent and groan.No. No. No. No.No.I slam my hand against the steering wheel, then roll down the window. This damn car is falling apart. Nine years of driving on gravel and dirt roads will do that to you, I guess. The never-ending list of car repairs continues to grow: new belts, air conditioning, tires, brake pads, and now possibly an exhaust leak. It’s time to retire this old thing and trade it in for something new.

I’m doing everything within my power to avoid relying on my father’s money, but my resolve and bank account are dwindling. I can’t very well drive my ten-year-old son around in a car that has an exhaust problem. Thoughts about my to-do list are interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone. I pluck the device from the top of my purse and cast a glance at the screen to find my mom calling again. That’s call number one hundred and thirty-seven since I’ve been in New York the past week.

It’s totally out of character for us to be at odds. She’s always been a wonderful mom. However, that doesn’t mean she isn’t flawed, no matter how perfect she is on paper. Up until a month ago we were extremely close. I would even say as I became an adult, we’ve become best friends. As a single mom, I’ve always wondered how she took care of my needs and our finances while working a part-time job; now I know.

Just as I thought I knew her better than anyone, the skeletons in her closet came tumbling out, leaving my life in utter chaos. I was pissed to learn that my deadbeat dad wasn’t a deadbeat after all. Feeling abandoned by him my entire life made it damn near impossible for me to connect with men. His absence fucked with my head. I’ve always felt as though I wasn’t good enough for someone to stick around. I mean, if the person who had a hand in creating me didn’t want me, why would anyone else? A point my ex-boyfriend certainly drove home. So, since that breakup, I just never really gave anyone else a chance. I spent my time focusing on improving my life and taking care of my son.

I don’t believe my parents considered the ramifications of their choices. The lies and major secrets they’ve kept hidden from me my entire life now have an impact on Tucker. I’m not one to easily forgive, and hell, even if I were, this would still be too much. If it’s forgiveness she wants for her and my father, I’m going to need time . . . a lot of time.

Turning down the radio, I take several deep, calming breaths of not-so-fresh air to attempt centering myself before answering her call. Before shit hit the fan, she and I wouldn’t go even one day without speaking. Now I can’t even stand the thought of her. I’m beyond livid.

With a huff, I pressed the green button to accept her call.

Mom speaks before I have a chance to say anything. “Hello? Hello? Aspen?”

“Yup. I’m here.”

“Oh, thank God! I’ve been trying to call you for a week. I’ve been worried sick.”

“Mom, there’s no need for dramatics. I overheard River talking on the phone with you the other day; she gave you an update on our well-being.”

I roll up my window so we can hear each other, praying I don’t pass out from the fumes coming through my vent.

“I’m so sorry, Aspen. You were absolutely right. I should have told you everything a long time ago.”

I put my turn signal on and look over my shoulder before moving into the right lane to turn. “Yes, you should have,” I snap.

“We wanted to protect you . . .” Mom blathers on, but I’m barely listening—still entirely too upset to have this conversation.

“So, let me make sure I have this straight . . .” I take a right onto the street leading to my neighborhood. “Y’all thought it would be a good idea to throw Tucker into the exact same situation you were protecting me from all these years? Warning me at some point would have been nice, you know. Now, I’m thrust into this new life that I wasn’t even prepared for, with a child no less. This is complete bullshit, Mom. That’s my kid’s life you two have messed with.” My voice cracks, and I sniff. My nose burns as my eyes fill with tears. The weight of everything coming down on me is too overwhelming. I’m so angry that the only outlet I have at this point is crying, and I hate it. There is only so much a person can take, and after a month, I’m finally breaking down.

“I think he will be—” She is cut off when my phone tumbles out of my hand.

“Shit! Hold on, Mom. I dropped my phone.” Reaching for it, I bend over; my fingertips brush the screen. I swerve—look up—swerve again—then reach for my phone in one last-ditch effort. Feeling the sides of the protective case with my fingertips, I glance down for a brief second and snatch up the device. When my eyes focus back on the road, all the blood rushes to my head, tingles shoot up my body, and it’s possible my heart literally stops beating.

“Oh my God!” I shriek. Swerving to the correct side of the road, I overcorrect before straightening up. No cars were approaching, thank God, but if they had been, that could have been a disaster.

“Are you okay?” There’s panic in her voice.

“Give me a minute. I need to collect my heart from the floor.” I take a deep breath, trying to regain control of my breathing. A lone tear trickles down my cheek. I swipe it away with the back of my hand before another one falls.Fuck!

“Maybe you should call me back when you’re home. I would really like to talk this out with no distractions.”

“Actually, I need you to respect my boundaries and back off a little. Please, just let me sort through these emotions. Okay? I appreciate your apology—and I’m not trying to hurt your feelings—but this mess you both have created for us is too much.”

“Aspen, please,” she begs.

“Mom,” I choke out. “I’ll call you when I’m ready.” I glance down, then press the red end button.

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