Page 2 of New River Gorge(ous)
“Hi,” is the only reply I can muster. I know I’m being unreasonable, but I’m still reeling from Stanford.
“Uh. Good talk, then,” Matt interjects, teasing.
“Shut it,” I snap in the unique twin language Matt and I created when we were toddlers. Not even our parents understand it, but we communicate perfectly in ‘twin’.
“Are you guys, like, bilingual?” Melanie asks.
Matt gives me thedoom eyes. He told her he had a twin, but he didn’t tell her about our language. Oops, but also, what does he expect by dropping this bomb on me? There hasneverbeen a woman he wanted me to meet, let alone a woman snuggled up with him on his couch.
“Sorry, but I have to go. I have paint to mess up. Or wait, mess to paint up, or … I have to go. Bye.”
I hang up the phone before I can say anything else stupid in front of Matt’sgirlfriendwith the really great arms and really good hair.
I frown at the mess before setting my phone on the counter. Matt was supposed to be my support right now, and he’s gone. I think for a moment about what to do, and I’m kneeling in the smears of paint when my phone rings again.
I throw my hands up, muttering, “I give up! Security deposit, you clearly don’t want to come back to my bank account!”
I stomp to my phone, because I’m allowed dramatics at a time like this, and when I see it’s Mom, I answer.
“Hi, honey,” she says before tilting her head slightly and asking with serious blue eyes, “What’s wrong?”
And at those words, I begin to cry, and cry, and cry. The anxiety escapes again, and I can’t pen it by myself.
Mom says something to someone off the screen, and then I hear her say, “Hold on, I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
My parents live twenty minutes away from my apartment with my two younger siblings, Joey and Lizzy. Joey and Lizzy are not official twins, but they are of the Irish variety—both born in the same calendar year.
Apparently, my parents love having two babies at a time. Twins do that to you. Everything is better doubled. Except when one twin does something without the other. Like falling in love.
I’m slumped on the barstool at the kitchen counter when my mom knocks on my door before letting herself in with the emergency spare key she and my dad have.
“Honey,” she says quietly, opening her arms, and I launch into them. My mother’s hugs are the most powerful force in the world.
Words bubble out as I sink into her safety. “No one ever wants to try for me. Everyone I date just wants one thing, and I don’t do that, and I just asked him to plan a date, and his plans were … not ok with me.”
She rubs soothing circles on my back, and my breathing slows. Eventually the tears subside to quiet sniffles. She leads me to the couch, and I let her.
When she sits down next to me and angles her body so she’s looking into my eyes, my heart is chafed and raw, but also loved. I’m grateful I have a relationship with my mom where I feel safe enough to be myself.
“Brookie. I think it might be a good time for you to go help Meemaw. You’re done with college now, and I know you’re working hard, but you can step away from your waitressing job. And I actually called earlier to ask if you would consider leaving the cafe, but now I think it’s definitely a good idea.”
I love my grandmother. I don’t get to see her very often since she lives in West Virginia and I live in Marquette, Michigan.
“Meemaw?” I frown. “Is she ok?”
Mom sighs. “She broke her ankle and she’ll be at a rehab facility after having surgery, but the truth is, she’s getting older in age and values her independence. The problem is, we can’t tell if she’s losing her faculties and needs to be moved to a care home, or if she’s just becoming more eccentric with her age.”
“Even more eccentric?” I ask, visions of Meemaw doing ridiculous things over the years flipping through my mind. Mom nods, and her copper-colored hair shakes in the light. “What does she need?”
“Honestly, she needs someone to live with her. She’s still very independent. You could work around there, just be there as her point of contact in case of emergencies. I think a change of scenery would do you some good.”
I bite my lip. “Ok. But did you know Matt has a girlfriend?”
She nods.
“You knew!” I shriek. “You knew and you didn’t tell me!”
“Matt called to tell me he metthe oneas soon as he saw her at the gym. He was worried about you taking the news poorly. He knows you haven’t had the best luck with dating.”
