Page 109 of Catcher's Lock
“I don’t want to be locked up again,” I confess. “But I’ll do it if I have to. If Josha asks. But I’d rather not be away from him when we’re finally finding our way together.”
“Does that mean you want to come on tour?”
“If it’s okay with you. I know I fucked it up royally the last few times, and that I need to pull my weight if I come. I’m not asking to perform or take Ellis’s place. I just need something to do. You can throw me one of the apprenticeships if you haven’talready filled them both.” I hold my breath while she considers me, keeping my face buried in the fragrant steam coming off my coffee.
“Gem. Ofcoursewe would love to have you. But you have a history with being on tour that hasn’t always been healthy. Are you sure it’s the right environment for you while you’re trying to stay clean? I’m worried it will be triggering.” She sighs then, setting her mug aside and taking my elbow to nudge me around to face her. “I’m worriedI’llbe triggering. I’m not oblivious to the fact that all of your troubles started after I left you and Hals. I need to take responsibility for that, and I’d hate to be the reason you failed at something that’s so important to you now.”
“I did blame you, Mom, but I wasn’t always fair about it, and it’s too late to change our past. You can’t fix me now—I have to do that for myself. Josha should have a man at his side, not a petulant child. I can’t be that for him if I keep blaming you or Dad or Cheyenne for a shitty adolescence I created mostly with my own bad decisions. I want to forgive you. Idoforgive you, or at least I’m trying. Can you forgivemeenough to give me one more chance?”
“Honey, there is nothing to forgive. When your grown child is struggling, all you can remember is every time you failed them, everything you did wrong. It overwhelms the good memories and buries you in guilt and regret. If I could go back in time, I’d do so many things differently. I’d pay closer attention. I’d be a better listener. I’d try to be more of a mom and less of a director, and I’d make sure you knew that you were talented and brilliant andloved.”
The roar of a motorcycle engine filters in from the yard, chugging throatily for a few seconds before dying with a sputter. A tiny thing when stood against the raw rainstorm of emotion sweeping through the kitchen, but adrenaline crackles in the pit of my stomach.
It’s not as fucked as I thought it was, I think—a prayer and an answer wrapped in one.
“I don’t know about brilliant and talented, but I’ll dowhatever it takes. I’ll run concessions or the ticket window or the door. All I need is enough to feed myself.”Please say yes. The money is a sensitive spot after all the times I took my earnings straight to the nearest dealer or liquor store. But I can’t lean on Josha all summer, and I don’t want him to see me as a responsibility. Or worse, a burden. When my mom doesn’t answer immediately, I offer up the last of my pride. “You can drug test me on the road, if it helps.”It might even help me stay straight.
Well, maybestraightisn’t the best word for me anymore.
A manic giggle threatens to erupt from my chest.Why is my brain like this?I’m having my first real, important conversation with my mom in years, and I’m making stupid dad jokes in my head. It’s like as soon as the stakes get too high, I retreat back to the teenage version of myself that thought I could coast through life on charisma and flippancy.
My mom gives me a small, rueful smile, like she can read my mind and I didn’t just offer to piss in a cup for her.
“Let’s take it one day at a time,” she says. “Isn’t that the mantra?”
It’s not ayes, but I nod, knowing it’s the best I can hope for. I could continue to beg or bring up the fact that they’re selling the tent and this is my last chance to make things right on that level, but I’m afraid the sale is my fault, and I’m hesitant to open that can of worms when we’ve come to a place of tentative harmony.
I never realized how much I took it for granted that Big Top would always be there—a home base I didn’t think I wanted but kept nestled in the back of my heart like a keepsake. My parentsarethe tent and the show and the wooded lot with its rotating cast of marvels.
I should have appreciated the miracle of it all while I had the chance.
This time, I will. And maybe between that miracle and the one currently sweating over my busted bike, I’ll find the courage to finally grow up.
36
Progress
Josha
Age 24 (Now)
“Echo is coming into town for a couple of days, and he wants to take us out.”
Gem glances over from where he’s slicing pickles to add to our dinner of fried chicken sandwiches. “You mean he wants to takeyouout.”
“His exact words were: ‘Bring Gem. I need to congratulate him for getting his head out of his ass long enough to make room for your dick.’”
“You told him about our sex life?”
“More like I barely survived an interrogation with my dignity intact.” I scoop the cutlets from the pan and set them on a paper towel–lined plate to drain. A myriad of emotions flickers across his face, starting with mild horror, but by the time he turns back to the cutting board, a smug smirk lifts the corner of his mouth.
Which means I have to kiss him, and the chicken gets cold. Luckily, that works fine for sandwiches.
It’s been three weeks since Shilo showed up on my doorstep, and things are going surprisingly well. Gem has been attending meetings—both AA and the occasional NA—almost every day. Sometimes Oscar accompanies him, and the two of them have developed a shorthand of support that’s slowly morphing into a deeper friendship.
I’m proud of him, but more importantly, I can tell he’s proud of himself. It shows in the way his youthful cockiness is reemerging as confidence after so many years of being shadowed by self-doubt. It reminds me of those first few weeks at Mendo High, when he charmed the entire student body with his earnest exuberance, but this time, I’m not jealous. How can I be when I get to take him home to my bed every night?
The first time we had sex in the bedroom, I ended up with a bite mark on my ass from a jealous Zombie. After that, we tried locking him out of the room at night, but he yowled at the door incessantly until we relented. Now we feed him at bedtime and let him in when we shower after, and he seems to have forgiven me. Most mornings, we wake up with him wedged into the meager space between our tangled bodies.
