Page 47 of All For You
Cricket: Sure. I’m heading to bed. Exhausted.
Me: Night, cricket.
Cricket: Are you ever going to tell me why you gave me that ridiculous nickname?
Me: Maybe one day, but that day isn’t today.
Cricket: G’night, Owen.
Now here I was the next morning as I laid in bed, scrolling through our messages one more time, the sun casting the entire bedroom in a yellowish hue. I’d always enjoyed talking with Aspen, even when it was something cruel she was spewing at me. It was the only time I ever saw her with a backbone.
Dinner Sunday night was eye-opening. Though she continued to chime in on conversations, Aspen was usually ignored. I was sure they weren’t doing it on purpose, but by the end of dinner, Aspen’s face was one of dejection. It wasn’t until she asked her father something directly that anyone paid her any mind.
I’d never experienced living in the shadows of anyone. Not only because I was an only child, but I’d always been a leader. My personality surpassed others’. I wasn’t being egotistical; it’s just how things were.
It also helped me understand why Aspen was so willing to take the role her family assigned her. She was paid so littleattention that if things failed, there was a chance they’d barely notice until it was catastrophic.
Tossing my phone aside, I made my way toward the bathroom for a shower. Just as I stepped out of the warm spray, a knock sounded on the front door. Quickly, I wrapped a towel around my waist and went to answer. My mom stood on the other side with a cardboard box in her hands.
“Hey, Mom,” I said as she stood across from me, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Hi. Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I ushered her inside and gestured for her to take a seat while I changed into some clothes. I hoped she didn’t plan on staying long. I wanted to get as much time with Aspen as I could. I also had a stop to make on the way to Sunny Brook Farms.
In the five minutes it took me to change, Mom hadn’t moved an inch on the sofa. Her eyes were trained on the images hanging on the opposite wall. Seeing her with her shoulders hunched, I realized how small and frail she truly was. Nothing like the mother I remembered when I was little. Even though she’d been going through her own hell, she still did her best to fight my father off whenever he focused his anger on me.
“Would you like a drink? Water?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you though.”
I grabbed myself a glass, because I was purposely prolonging whatever brought my mom here. I surmised it was related to the ongoing drama with the house and my father.
“What’s in the box?” I asked as I took the empty seat next to her. My large frame sank into the cushion, nearly causing Mom to slide into me.
“Just a few things from the old house I thought you might want. Trophies, certificates, pictures.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I grabbed the box and flipped one pane open to explore inside. The first item I grabbed was my trophy from winning the National Championship when I was a senior in high school.
“I’ve been working with the kid next door, Roman. He’s pretty good.”
Mom nodded and gnawed on her bottom lip, but she didn’t reply.
“I know this isn’t the only reason you came by.”
“You’re right. You’ve always been very perceptive.”
“Well, might as well rip off the Band-Aid and get it over with. That’s what you used to tell me.”
Mom pushed up from the couch and stood, then walked toward the sliding glass doors leading to the back deck and yard. Her back was to me as she said, “You know, you were born at twenty-eight weeks. The tiniest little thing. I was so worried about you, thinking I’d done something wrong. Every day was a challenge. Every day, I was worried when I visited you that they’d have something heartbreaking to tell me.
“But now, here you are. No one would ever know how much you struggled that first year of life.”
I listened intently, even though her story was one I’d heard numerous times. Usually, it accompanied a milestone event, like graduating to the next grade in school.
“That was when everything changed with your father.”
My ears perked up. That was not her typical statement made after the flashback. Normally, it was the level of pride she felt for me that followed it.
