Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1) (57 page)

The more I thought about the conversations he’d had with the guys about basketball, I realized they never talked about Lakers like all the other guys at school did. I decided to ask Lindsey, his sister, about it. She was home from Stanford for winter break.

I called her up. “Hey, Lindsey. It’s Liz.”

“Oh, hi Liz. What’s up? Everything okay?” We’ve talked before, but not with me calling her up, it was always when Patrick did.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. I just need your help with something. Are you busy?”

“Nah. How can I help?” She seemed happy to.

“So, I’ve been thinking about what get Patrick for Christmas.”

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?” She teased.

“Yeah, well, he isn’t exactly the easiest person to shop for.” I chuckled.

“Don’t I know it. And I’ve had to do it for years!” She laughed. “Need ideas? ‘Cause you know he’d say that he doesn’t want anything.”

“I know. But I
want
to.” I sighed. “So, I was wondering if you could tell me what Patrick’s favorite basketball team is.”

“How can you not know that?” Lindsey seemed shocked. “I thought he told me that you guys have talked basketball.”

“Well, yeah, we have. That’s why I can’t believe I don’t know. But I don’t remember him really saying what his favorite team is.”

“Come on. You must have some idea.” She challenged me. I didn’t say anything. I felt like a huge loser for not knowing something so basic about my best friend. “God, Liz. He’s a big
Boston
fan.”

“Really?!” So he wasn’t just being nice talking to me about the Celtics?

“Heck yeah.” I swear I could hear her grinning. “He wanted me to go to Harvard or M.I.T. or any school over there so he had an extra excuse to go to a Celtics home game.”

I laughed. “I would have suggested it too.”

“We have some family out there. If they happen to be playing when we visit, we try to go to a game”

I still couldn’t believe that I had found one of the few non-LA fans in
San Diego
and he was a Celtic fan too! “Why didn’t he just tell me? All this time…” I shook my head, still in disbelief. “When was the last time you guys went to a game there?”

“They went over Spring Break. I couldn’t go this year.”

Ah. That kind of explains it. He probably didn’t want to tell me how great his Spring Break was when he knew how awful mine was. That had to be it. Somehow he just danced around us having a team in common. “Have you guys ever gone to a game here? I mean, a Celtics game in LA?”

“No. Once he visited me at school and the Celts were in town playing the Warriors, so we went to a game there. He had a great time.”

“Hmmm… Okay. ‘Cause I was thinking of getting him tickets to a Celtics game in LA. What do you think?”

“That’s a great idea!” She exclaimed. “Wait. Do you know when they are playing in LA?”

“Umm. Hold on, let me check real fast.” I went to my computer and looked up the schedule online. “They are playing next week in LA, then again in February.”

“Get him the one next week.” She told me.

“You sure? That’s not too short of a notice?” I was leaning toward the February one.

“Nah. That way he’d get to go now versus waiting two months.” She explained. That made sense.

“You sure it’ll be okay with your parents?” I knew her parents were cool about a lot more stuff than mine, but it was short notice.

“Oh, yeah. Don’t worry about that.” She didn’t seem concerned.

“Okay. I’ll get him tickets for next week’s game. But you need to make sure your family doesn’t go anywhere on the 27
^th
.” I insisted.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll take care of it.” She paused for a moment. “I just want to be there when you give it to him.”

“Sure.” I didn’t see why not. I was glad to find something that he would love. I’d get him two tickets so he and his dad could have a father/son day of it. I think he’d enjoy that.

* * *

Patrick and I went shopping for a present for his mom. We had already looked all over the mall and couldn’t find anything. This time, we were going to check out kitchen and food related stores since she loved cooking.

The best place we went to was The Gourmet Kitchen. They had all sorts of kitchen gadgets, electrics and specialty food. They even had cooking classes. This place was like a hardware store for cooks.

We each found something for his mom there. Separate gifts that went together. He signed her up for an Asian cooking class because she had kept talking about how she wanted to learn it. I didn’t really think of myself as Asian, even though I looked like it. I was brought up on Asian food and knew what sauces and seasonings she would need to replicate the recipes she’d learn. So, I made a gift basket with that stuff.

“Did you find out about going to
Disneyland
yet?” He asked as we headed back to my house. The entire crew was going to go next week. I had never been to
Disneyland
and he had told me that the next time they went, I was going with them. That was before I was really part of the crew.

“I didn’t ask yet. They just got home yesterday, so I didn’t want to bring it up. I’ll ask tonight.” I was really nervous to ask because we’d leave around 6:00 am and get back probably around 2:00am.

“You think they’d say ‘no’?” He sounded disappointed at the thought.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Who knows…” I mimicked my mom’s patronizing tone. “You never know what kind of trouble I can get myself in at
Disneyland
.”

“Come on. You can’t seriously think they’d think that.”

I stared at him. “These are
my
parents we’re talking about. What do
you
think?”

“Well, okay.” He conceded. “But, you’ll be with me and the crew. It’s not like you’re going alone. Not that I see you getting into ‘trouble’ at
Disneyland
even if you went by yourself.”

I thought about what they would say. “Would you mind being there when I asked? It might help my chances.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He grinned. “Whatever will help.”

Of course, this could all backfire on me. My mom could accuse me of putting her on the spot. Which I was doing. But at least she’d be more likely to let me go – after yelling at me for a while.

* * *

When I got home, I heard my mom in the kitchen. I looked at Patrick and dreaded going in there. I wasn’t worried about how she’d treat me like some five-year-old around him. She had done that before. It was embarrassing, mortifying, but he never treated me that way or made me feel bad about it. So, while I didn’t look forward to it, I knew he wouldn’t be surprised when it happened. Life was just so much more tolerable when I didn’t have to deal with my parents. I rarely left the room feeling remotely adequate. In fact, I usually left feeling like I was being punished and wanting to escape. I tried not to let it bother me – that’s just how my parents were.
 
It didn’t always work.

We entered the kitchen. My mom was at the kitchen table making egg rolls.
 

“Hi, Mom.”

“
Elizabeth
.” She turned and saw Patrick with me. “Oh, hello, Patrick.” She got up and washed her hands.

He walked over and shook her hand. “Hi, Mrs. Mariposa. It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, too. Did you get all your shopping done?”

“Yes, thanks to Liz.”

“Well, that’s good.” She went back to the table and sat down. “
Elizabeth
, can you get me another tray for the egg rolls?”

I nodded and went to the cabinet which held the serving dishes and trays. I knew the tray she wanted. Of course, it had to be on one of the top shelves. I pulled out the step stool we kept in the kitchen.
 
I hate being vertically challenged. If only I was four inches taller…

Patrick came over and stopped me from setting up the stool. He chuckled. “Which one do you want?”

I pointed to one my mom wanted. He got it down and handed it to me. “Thanks.”
 
I put it on the table next to my mom. “Here you go.”

“
Elizabeth
tells me that you and your crew helped with the tree and decorations.” She looked directly at Patrick.

I could only wish that she wouldn’t tell her nit-picky problems with the décor. It was bad enough that she made me feel like I didn’t do things right, I didn’t want her to do that to Patrick or the crew. “Mom…”

She ignored me. What’s new? “That was nice of you to help and look out for her.” She seemed sincere about it. Wow.

“We had fun helping. Anytime, Mrs. Mariposa.” Patrick had such an easy-going demeanor about him. “Do you need some help?”

“Sure.” My mom handed him an egg roll wrapper and he sat down at the table. She showed him how to stuff and roll it. “I have to make six dozen
Shanghai
and vegetable egg rolls.”

The three of us sat at the kitchen table making egg rolls. In what weird universe did I step into? I never thought I’d sit at the table, making egg rolls, having a pleasant conversation with my mom and best friend. Okay, I wasn’t really in on it, but Patrick and my mom had a nice, polite and comfortable chat. They talked about his family’s Christmas plans and he extended an invitation from his parents for me and them to come by. Of course, my mom politely declined, but told him that maybe I would stop by. Then the topic of what else he’d be doing over break came up. I nervously took a deep breath. My mom didn’t notice, but Patrick did.

“Actually, Mrs. Mariposa, we’re going to
Disneyland
next week.” He told her. “The crew and I always go over winter break.”

“Yeah? That’s nice that you and your friends spend time together like that.” She seemed to still be in a good mood. The conversation was still light. “You guys go often?”

“Couple times a year.” He looked at me and I knew it was time for me to speak up or he would.

“I remember
Disneyland
.” My mom told him.

What? How has she gone there, but I haven’t?

“When Mr. Mariposa and I came to the States, we flew into LAX. We had some family that lived in LA. We went to
Disneyland
. I remember having so much fun.”

Really? What the heck?

“I’m sure it’s a lot bigger now.” She looked wistful, thinking of her memories.

I cleared my throat. “So, Mom, can I go? To
Disneyland
?”

It was like a switch flipped. She was back to the hypercritical mom I knew. Her eyes squinted at me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” At least she tried to keep her voice even because Patrick was there. “That’s not a place I want you going to by yourself. Something could happen just on the drive there. You’d find trouble.”

“But…” I stammered. “I wouldn’t go alone. I’d be with the crew.” I couldn’t take her stare anymore. I looked down at the tray of egg rolls.

“Is that true?” She looked curiously at Patrick.

“Yes. She’s part of the crew. We were all hoping she’d be able to come.”

“And you’re going?” She asked him, even though she knew the answer. He had just told her, not even five minutes ago.

Why couldn’t the ground just open up and swallow me whole? Better yet, couldn’t I just be vaporized?