Entangled (22 page)

“I got a letter from my mother.” Her eyebrows disappear under her light brown hair. She sits down in the chair next to me, an unreadable expression on her face. “Crazy huh? After all this time, she wants to be a mother.”

“Wow, what did she say?”

“She apologized for not being a mother.”

“Well, I’m not surprised that she’s finally reaching out. I mean, it took her long enough to be a grown up and face responsibilities. But better late than never, right?” I’m not sure I agree, but I guess being her sister she’s trying to be positive about this. New York is going to be interesting.

New York. My trip with Maddy. Suddenly my face feels hot. I’ve no idea if she even wants to go with me now. I haven’t spoken to her since that night at Midnight. I scratch the back of my neck, my nerves all over the place. I miss her. Even just as a friend. She’s the only friend I have here. It gets pretty lonely. I never had that problem in New York, but I left…moved on.

Maddy made me smile, like maybe life doesn’t have to be so tragic or sad and shitty, filled with alcoholic mothers and absentee fathers. That maybe, just maybe life can be good.

I look at my aunt, over the rim of my coffee cup and say, “I’m planning a trip to New York after Thanksgiving.”

“Really?” I shake my head, taking another sip of the delicious steamy liquid. “I want to surprise her. Maybe we can talk, fix our relationship. If it’s not too late.”

“It’s never too late, Noah. And that’s a really great idea.” She smiles and takes a sip, setting her cup down. She places her hands on the table, fingers spread apart. “I think it would be really good, for both of you.” My lip lifts slightly at the corner. I hope so.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on moving back there. Even if we make up and all’s good with the world, which I’m not putting all my hopes into one letter.” She looks taken aback but smiles warmly, patting my hand.

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

I quirk one eye brow and shift in my seat. “Because I was thinking it. I don’t know what’ll happen when I’m there but I’m not going back there to live. I’m trying to forget that life, not run back to it. And right now, this place seems to work for me.” Even though I have no job right now. I plan to get one soon enough and go through school too. I just need a little time to sort through some shit. I live pretty frugally though.

My aunt taps her two fingers on the table top quietly and then she gets up. “I have something to show you.” She stalks out of the kitchen. I finish the last of my coffee and pull my phone out of my pocket, disappointment floods my mind for a split second when I see no texts or missed calls. I guess I was hoping against hope that Maddy would try to contact me. It’s a stupid thought but I can’t tell my brain that, it won’t listen. I just want to apologize to her. She left with jerk because of me and I made her feel like she needed to be watched over. I know she’s a grown woman and can take care of herself, but I just wanted to spend more time with her. I wish she’d talk to me, confide in me.

God knows I can use a friend right now. Spencer is too busy these days to talk. I miss him too. I open my phone, shoving aside all thoughts of the girl who seems to have some crazy hold on me and doesn’t even know it. I make a note.

Materials for Kitchen Table (Project for Aunt Linda)

-Wood

-Sandpaper

-Brackets (L) (Metal)

-Wood screws (Size 8)

-Drill

-Paint/Stain

I save it and lay my phone down on the table, satisfied. Would I ever consider moving back to New York? I figured when I left that would be it. I shake the thoughts out of my head. I’ve left for a reason and the only one I’d go back for is to visit, since Spencer is still there.

“Okay, sorry. I’d forgotten where I’d put these.” My aunt saunters back into the kitchen holding some pictures. She sits down with them in her hand as if they’re fragile. I can see why now. “Your mother sent these to me, over the years Noah.” She says. I glance from her to the pictures. She places them in front of me. They look old but in good condition.

They’re pictures of me, as a baby. I feel my eyes widen. “She knew I would take care of them and she wanted you to have them some day.”

“What is this?” I blurt out stupidly. I know what they are, but I’m dumbfounded. She took baby pictures? I never knew it.

“These are baby pictures, up until you were ten. It was right before-“

“The divorce.” I finish her thought. After my parents split is when my mother hit the booze and the men, numbing her pain. It’s why she forgot about me, not caring about my pain. Only hers.

“Yes. She’d taken pictures as often as she could. She loved you, Noah. After your father announced he was leaving, she lost it. She wanted to make it work. She wanted for you to be a family. But your father cared more about his job than he did about his responsibilities as a father and husband. I honestly couldn’t stand him and I’d told your mother that from the beginning. He was selfish and inconsiderate. But your mother didn’t listen.” I swallow, taking the pictures in my hands.

“Yeah, she never listened to anyone.” I say quietly. Seeing my baby pictures with my own eyes feels surreal. Why didn’t I remember her taking them? All I remember were the arguments, betrayal and resentment. My father resented me for being born. He should’ve kept it in his pants or been more protected. I can’t stand it when I hear a parent blaming the child for their existence. How the fuck is it their fault? They didn’t ask to be brought into a family that hates each other. My father was gone most nights, doing god knows what. My mother tried, I could see she struggled with everything and it hurt me. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, even though I was just as confused and hurt. Even before he left, being with her was the most fun I had as a child. We would play at the park or play games inside at the kitchen table. I can’t deny that I wished my father was there too. I just wanted him to love me, was that too hard to ask? I just wanted to be loved by my parents and feel normal. I needed him to teach me to shave, play sports, and take me to eat ice cream or even teach me a thing or two about girls. But he was too busy to do any of that. It eventually resulted in me finding trouble, acting out and getting involved with the wrong people.

I flip through the pictures and catch one of me laughing while my mother is pushing me on the swing at the park. It brings a smile to my face and stirs emotions deep within my gut. She’s actually smiling too. I haven’t seen her smile in so long; I forgot what it looked like. Her brown hair is blowing in her sweet oval-shaped face. I’m not ready to stroll down memory lane right now, yet I can’t look away. “Can I keep these?” I hold up the stack, ready to move onto a happier topic. I’ll look through these when I’m by myself.

“Yes, of course. They’re yours.” She rises out of her chair and walks to the pantry, taking out a zip lock baggie and hands it to me.

“Thank you.” I tell her, placing the pictures carefully inside and sealing it. “This was a surprise, these.” I gesture to the bag. “But I’m glad you had them all this time. Thank you for keeping them safe.” I set them on the table and lean back in my seat, stretching my body. My aunt resembles my mother quite a bit, never having noticed it before. They have the same color hair, just different eyes. My mother’s blue eyes have aged with stress and they change, turning gray at times. “Really, thank you for being here for me. This move has been really hard on me. You’re all I have left. Life’s been one sucky event after another. But I’m glad I left New York. I needed to get away from the busy atmosphere.”

“Noah, tell me something.” She sits down again and crosses her legs, arms crossed over her chest. “Do you still feel guilty?”

“Please Aunt Linda, don’t bring it up. That’s the last thing I want to talk about.” My stomach churns and I have to fight the nausea from rising up my throat.

“Noah, let it go. It wasn’t your fault.” I’m out of my seat, offensive stance, hands covering my ears.

“You weren’t there. Don’t tell me what to feel. I can’t let it go.”

“Noah.” I’m not listening to her and my temper is flaring. Bringing up a painful part of my past is not helpful in my moving on plan. I know she’s trying to help but it’s only pissing me off. I pace the kitchen, not looking at her.

“Leave it be. Drop it. I don’t want to go down this road. Please.” I stop pacing and peek at her. She’s sitting down, elbows on the table under her chin. I slowly remove my hands away from my face and sit down. I drop my head into my hands, making an effort to control my emotions. Relax. Don’t think about it. It’s in the past.

“Do you like Maddy?” Is she serious? She goes from one extreme to another.

“What does she have to do with anything?” I don’t bother concealing my frustration. She’s not bothered by it though. She doesn’t even flinch.

“No, answer the question. I have a reason for asking. Do you like her?” I narrow my eyes, nostrils flare. I’m not sure why she’s so interested in my life or who I like. But a part of me is not sure why I’m so offensive. I’m not really mad at her, it’s more of the fact that I don’t know how to answer. I’m usually a straightforward kind of guy, no beating around the bush. I just can’t give a straight answer when it comes to Maddy. I look away, concentrating on the wall to my right trying to ignore the buzzing in my ears. “Look there’s a reason for my asking. I’m not trying to pry or play nosey aunt. I just need to know, do you like her? As in more than friends?”

Do I? I regard my aunt warily, while I run through in my head all the possible answers I can come up with. “I don’t know her that well but the time I’ve spent with her has been nice.” I do miss her company, but that could just be that I’m lonely right? It doesn’t mean anything, it can’t. No, it can’t.

“It seems you and Maddy have a lot in common.”

“How so?” It seems I don’t know too much about her but I doubt she’s had it too bad. I could be wrong.

“Maddy’s had a tough life. She had to raise herself. During high school Derrick went through a bad phase, it didn’t last long thankfully. Anyway, I think that was thanks to Maddy and Andi for their influence. But Landon got him into some bad stuff and they got into a lot of trouble. I never really cared for that boy, but he cared about Maddy. He was for the most part, good to her so I bit my tongue. Plus he was Derrick’s best friend. The four of them were inseparable. Maddy really looked out for him. Even as her world had crumpled and things with her father were bad, she didn’t let it show on the outside. We had so many talks; she’d come over by herself and cry into my arms when she couldn’t take it anymore. She’d held it in long enough and I had no problem letting her just let go. She was so young; she couldn’t be strong all the time. She had to take sleeping pills to help her at night because often, nightmares plagued her; mostly of her mother.” She has a faraway look in her eye and a stab of guilt hits me in the stomach. I didn’t know she suffered that much. I knew she was going through some shit but I didn’t know how serious. I understood wanting to keep things to yourself. But I’m glad she had someone to talk to, cry to. I see why she’d lost it a few times in front of me. How much can one person take before they hit the ground and break?

I start tapping my finger nervously on the table, more interested in the conversation. “What happened to her parents?”

“It’s not for me to tell. I won’t share someone else’s story. You have to ask her.” I shake my head, a small smile playing at my lips.

“She won’t talk to me. I just know her mother died and she loved to sing, which is why Maddy loves to as well. She’s got an amazing voice.” I look up and smile, remembering her face as she sang Sarah’s song so well. She looked peaceful, like she was floating or something. The image is branded into my mind. “She’s so closed off though. As if she’s afraid of letting someone in long enough for them to see this incredible girl underneath all the pain and sadness.” I don’t know if I’m describing myself of Maddy, maybe both. I’ve said too much now. My aunt has a look in her eye like she knows my feelings for her.

“It looks as though you’re struggling the same way, opening up. I want you to come and talk to me, about anything. I’ll keep it confidential, between you and me. You can’t keep your feelings bottled up inside, it will eventually break you down.” She reaches out and takes my hand, a comforting gesture I’m not familiar with. But it’s nice so I don’t pull away. “It’s okay to show emotion sometimes. It’s human nature and necessary for our survival.” I stare at her delicate hand still on top of mine. They’re so pristine, her finger nails and the cuticles. I wonder how much it costs to have your nails done and thank goodness guys don’t have to worry about that crap. I keep my nails trimmed and clean but not obsessively.

I rub my forehead with my other hand and then scratch my chin, distractingly. My finger catches on a little stubble, making me take note that I need to shave. I guess girls are lucky they don’t have to take a razor to their face. I had to teach myself to shave; it was a bitch the first few
times. I cut myself numerous times. Thinking about it, I wince. You cut at the wrong angle and
slice
. “Listen.”

“I like her.” I finally say, cutting whatever thought she had in mind. I lean back and cross my arms, stretching my legs out in front me at the ankles. “I like her Aunt Linda. A lot. But I’m no good for her.”

She seemed surprised to hear me admit, and I’ll say, I was surprised to admit it too. I did like her. I do like her. She raises a brow with a skeptical look. “What makes you think you’re not good for her?”