Forgive Me (27 page)

I don’t know what to say to any of that, so I sit and stare at him, almost wanting to cry but knowing there is no use. Finally I say the only thing that I can think of. “Do you think we could ever be together?”

He lifts his head from his hands and looks at me with doubt. “Honestly? I have no idea.”

“Okay,” I tell him. I want to fight him on it, to show him that we could be perfect together, but I know there really isn’t much use in it right now.

He stands up and walks towards me, giving me his hand. I accept it and stand with his pull. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, he looks down at me with tenderness. This Zander standing before me, is the Zander I fell in love with, for so many reasons. Open, honest, sweet, loving. He is perfection.

“I love you, Lexi. I do. I probably will for the rest of my life. But that doesn’t mean we can just happen. There is a lot we need to work on before we can even think about dating one another, and not only that, I’m not leaving Arlington. Not ever. So you need to decide, are you staying or going?”

Say something, I'm giving up on you,

I'll be the one, if you want me to,

Anywhere I would've followed you,

Say something, I'm giving up on you.

-A Great Big World

              Hiding under my blankets with my flashlight, I try to finish up one last chapter. The door creeks open, and I know I’m going to be in trouble for staying up late. I click the light off and peek out from under the covers. Mom has the light on and is walking over to the bed. She sits on the edge, pulling the book from my hands.

              “What are you reading?” She turns the book to look at the cover.

              “It’s for school. I didn’t finish this last chapter.”

              She looks up at me and I’m surprised she doesn’t punish me. “Scoot over.”

              I move over a little bit and mom occupies the space next to me. She lays her head against the pillow and starts reading where I left off. I rest my head on the pillow next to her and curl the blankets up under my chin.

              The sound of my mom’s voice when she is reading, concentrating on the words of the pages, there is something about it I can’t explain. Its comforting. I cherish this moment, every single second of it, because it never happens. I feel like I have a real mom, one that loves me and knows I exist.

              I don’t even hear any of the words, but instead I watch her mouth move along with the story. Her voice sounds charismatic, and it gives me this odd yearning to be closer to her. So I scoot myself closer to her. Resting my head against her shoulder I start to drift off to sleep, completely forgetting about the book that needs to be finished before class tomorrow.

              Mom reaches over and plays with my hair, whispering, “Sweet dreams, Lexi. I love you.”

              I fall into a deep slumber and have the best sleep I’ve ever had.

It’s funny how a memory can just come to mind at any given time. A memory you’ve wanted to cherish forever, but completely forgot about. Its no wonder I would think of that while laying on my old childhood bed, less than an hour after laying my mom to rest.

I look around the room that was mine for fourteen years. Close to half my life. I almost don’t recognize it. I took all the important things with me, and it looks as though nothing has been touched since I left. I’ve been up here since we got to my dad’s house, and I would rather stay here until everyone clears the place out.

I sat down with Justin this morning and told him the story my mom told me in the hospital. His eyes watered and he pulled me into a tight hug, telling me he was sorry. I pulled him away from the hug and firmly told him, “I’m not any better of a person than my mom was.”

He had looked back at me and said, “No, because you’ve been honest with me from the start. You’re the best mom in the world.”

We held onto one another for a long time. I asked him if he wanted to attend the funeral but he said he’d rather not. He’s never been to one, and claims he never wants to attend one, not even his own. For a nine year old, he sure is smart. I called his dad, and Zander came to pick him up.

Zander claimed he was calling out of work tomorrow, wanting to give me a break considering what today was, and that he’d drop Justin off around dinner time tomorrow night. I hate that I haven’t gotten to see much of Justin the last two and half weeks, but I’m so glad he has spent this much time with his dad, uncles and aunts.

I climb from the bed and walk over to my dresser. I smile at the engraved heart I made in eighth grade. It has LB + ZF inscribed inside it. I bet my dad would have whipped my bum for this if he had seen it. It was one of my mini-rebellious acts as an adolescent.

I open the drawers, one by one, to see the things I left behind. A half of heart to Bray and I’s BFF necklace, which I slide around my neck, a few shirts and some shorts, a pair of sunglasses, a skittles box from the first date with Zander, some old pairs of socks, and a photo album. I’m surprised with myself to see that in there.

Pulling it out, I walk back over the bed and sit down, opening up to the first page. It starts out with me being maybe three years old, holding Rease in my arms with the biggest grin on my face. I had such chipmunk cheeks that it makes me giggle out loud. The next few pictures are of my siblings and me during different occasions, usually none of us are even paying attention to the camera, except maybe twice.

Then we get into the stages of me being nine or ten, and I’m hanging out with Bray a lot. One we’re in a bikini each, throwing water balloons at one another. I remember that day, I ended up with a black eye because Bray started chasing me around the house and I tripped over a stick, smacking my head into the grill my dad had.

Flipping to the next page, I almost want to cry. I’m wrapped in my mom’s arms, crying, and I see my dad trying desperately to comfort us both. The look on both their face’s, like they actually care, like they love me. The fact they notice me is… weird. I don’t even remember this happening. I don’t remember ever seeing this picture before. It breaks my heart and gives me comfort at the same time. They both did love me, even if they didn’t act like it most the time.

I turn to the next page and I’m not surprised to see it blank. I got to the age I didn’t care for my family anymore, as I felt they didn’t care for me. There was once upon a time, when I was young, I got along with my brothers a lot, but that changed when they starting noticing girls. Then my life pretty much sucked, except for when I was around Bray and Zander.

The next few pages are blank, and as I’m about to close the photo album, I notice a slip of paper peeking out from the back. I flip to the end and see a yellow post it note attached to the album and a picture placed into the last slot.

The picture is of Zander and I riding a bike together, both looking at each other with those puppy dogs eyes, obviously madly in love with one another. On the slip of paper, in my mom’s handwriting, it says, “
Don't wait until its too late to tell someone how much you love, how much you care. Because when they're gone, no matter how loud you shout and cry, they won't hear you anymore.
”

She said that to me once. I don’t even know who the quote is by, or if its something my mom made up herself, but I do remember her saying it. I had just come inside from riding my bike with Zander, and if I remember correctly, it was this day. She must have snapped the picture when we weren’t paying attention.

I had gotten into the fridge to get us each a sports drink. I remember looking over at my mom and she was staring at the kitchen window as if it held answers to some unknown question. I asked her, “Mom, is everything alright?”

She simply shook her head no, and said those same words to me. She didn’t say them in a beautiful way either, more of an indifferent way. I had stared at her for several minutes when she looked in my direction and said, “Supper will be ready at five. Make sure Zander is on his way home by then and you’re cleaned up.”

I didn’t question it then, because that was just my mom. The amount of anti-depressants she was on almost made her more depressed. I let it be and moved on. But now, now I finally get it. She was relating herself to me. Almost jealous even. I found someone, at such a young age, that I loved and loved me back- and she obviously could never get over the doctor she had an affair with.

Sliding the picture out of the slot, I place the sticky note on the back of it and place them on my bed. Putting the photo album pack in the drawer, I take another look around my old bedroom. I smile at the picture of N*Sync on my wall, and I roll my eyes at the teddy bear net placed in the high corner of my bedroom. I had a pretty snazzy bedroom considering my lifestyle, and I do have to be thankful for that. There isn’t anything here I’m sad I left behind, I don’t think, so I grab my picture, putting it in my back pocket, and I leave my bedroom behind me.

I knock on the door of where Rease’s room used to be. I know she is here but I’m not sure if she is in her room or not. I hear her tell me to come in, so I open the door and smile at her sitting on the bed. Torin is next to her, and the two of them are talking in what looks to be a serious conversation. “Oh, I don’t have to interrupt,” I tell them.

Rease tells me to come in and even though I almost feel intimidated by Torin, for some strange reason, I come in anyways. I sit on the bed with them and say, “Sorry, I was getting lonely in there by myself.”

“I know the feeling,” Rease says. “Justin didn’t want to come?”

I shake my head no. “No, he is at Zander’s. He is still so young, its not really appropriate for him to attend a funeral, especially of someone he only met once.”

Torin rolls her eyes. “Not his fault.”

I look over at her and pinch my brows together, getting really sick of her attitude already. “No, not his fault at all. But not mine either.”

“You could have come back before now,” she states.

“You’re right, I could have, but I didn’t feel welcomed when I lived here, so what makes you think I’d want to come back around?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Oh, please, you’ve always been the favorite, Lexi. Get over it and stop being so dramatic.”

I stand up, completely irritated. I know it’s the day of my mom’s funeral, and I was trying to be respectful, but this is just bull-crap. “Are you freaking kidding me?” I yell out at her, throwing my arms to the side. “You have no idea how lucky you are! You’ve been spoiled with love and with everything else you could ever need. You grew up with two parents who cherished you and babied you and made sure you were happy. I was put on the back burner and ignored because my parent’s had a grudge against me, and it wasn’t even my fault! Stop with the dramatics Torin, it’s not cute and its really pissing me off.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” she retorts.

“It means that dad isn’t my dad, and because of that, I was treated like I was invading this home. And when I came back, I was expecting everyone to treat me like that still… like how you’re treating me. But instead its just you and dad. Even mom had the decency to sit me down and tell me the truth. We even got to hug finally! You have no idea how much a simple hug from my mom felt.”

I harshly wipe away the tears as Torin stares at me in astonishment.

“When you left,” she says softly, “I was only seven. I don’t remember much, I just remember that you left and everyone all of a sudden started asking about you. Everywhere we went; school, stores, even outside to play, it was always talk of Lexi, even up until a few years ago. Then out of nowhere you start emailing us, but you just gave us a little update on how wonderful your life was without us, then you’d ask how we were doing. Like you were rubbing it in or something.”

I shake my head at her, dismissing that thought. No wonder she has had issues with me. The poor girl really was so young, and so confused. It didn’t make matters any easier she was being lied to the whole time, along with the rest of the family.

“Torin, I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I really am. I’m not the best older sister, I get that, but I don’t know how to be one. I tried, I really did, but I just thought you were still spoiled rotten by mom and dad, and that you didn’t give two craps either way how my life was. Those emails were just a way to reach out to you. My life was not perfect being away from this town, it was far from it actually, and I hate that I missed watching you two grow up. I hate that no one knew about Justin. There is so much I hate about how the last ten years were, but I’m here now.”