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Authors: Kathryn Cushman

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Leaving Yesterday (16 page)

BOOK: Leaving Yesterday
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It hurt to think about all the things my son had gone through, but I was determined to stay positive right now. I put my hand on a large patch of rust. “You know, one thing you can say about this car, at least the red blends nicely with the large bouquet of rust.”

He laughed. “A bouquet of rust. It sounds ever so much better than the reality, doesn’t it?” He sat in the driver’s seat but didn’t close the door. “Mom, there’s something I need to ask you, but I really don’t want to.”

Was he going to ask me directly if I’d found a bat in his things? I wasn’t sure I could play that off as easily as the last time when he’d asked if I’d found anything else. I braced myself for it but tried to appear calm and relaxed. “You know you can ask me anything. That’s what mothers are for.”

“Well, you’ve more than fulfilled your quota of motherrequired help for me at this point. It’s just that … I need some money. When I found out you and Dad were separated, I promised myself I wouldn’t ask, but here I am being a selfish pig and asking anyway.”

“How much do you need?” I looked at his car and realized that whether or not Monte was paying him a decent wage, he probably did need more to help get him back on his feet again.

“A couple thousand.”

Thousand? A couple
thousand
? I had been expecting a few hundred at the most. He stared at his steering wheel, unable to even lift his head to look at me, and I knew that it was killing him to ask for this. The right thing to do would be to ask what he needed the money for. What kind of parent would give two thousand dollars to a kid who, until a few months ago, was a hard-drug addict? Was I just foolishly ignoring all the signs again?

No. I’d been fooled once, but the Kurt who ate with us tonight was a new person. Someone who, more than anything, needed to feel trusted, and I didn’t want my son to think that I didn’t have full faith in him.

“I don’t keep that kind of money at the house. I could have some for you the next time you stop by. How soon do you need it?”

“As soon as possible. Maybe I’ll drive back down next Saturday.”

“Is everything all right?” The question gave him the wideopen opportunity to ease my mind with what he planned to do with the loan.

He chose not to take it. “Fine. Just needing a little help right now, that’s all.”

Needing a little help right now? Would that help take the form of white powder up my son’s nose? Little rolled smokes? Or injections that I didn’t even want to think about? With all my heart I believed that was not the case, but if I needed to trust him, he also needed to trust me. The question would stay in no longer. “Kurt, what are you planning to do with the money?”

“It’s not for drugs, Mom.” He smacked his hands softly against the dashboard. “I knew that’s what you’d think.”

“That’s not what I think, but two thousand dollars is a lot of money to hand to someone, anyone, without some idea of what it’s for.”

“I still owe the rehab place. I have upcoming tuition bills.” He turned and put his hands on the steering wheel. “Keeping this hunk of metal rolling. It’s taking a lot of money to get back on my feet, but I’m clean and I’m staying clean.” He pulled at his eyelashes, a habit so familiar from his childhood.

Shame poured over me like scalding water. I was starting to sound more and more like Rick. “I didn’t mean it that way.” We both knew that wasn’t the complete truth, but I think he understood I at least regretted asking the question. “I can have it for you by next Saturday.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

As he drove away I stared after him, still hearing Rick’s warning in my mind,
“Don’t you dare give him money
.

Well, I
was
going to give him money, quite a lot of it. I only hoped and prayed that he was telling the truth about where it was going to go.

Monday morning I was still agonizing over Kurt’s request. For every five signs I could list showing how he’d changed, part of me just knew he was holding back something. I was pretty sure I would still give him the money, but the whole process made me squirm. And that wasn’t helping at work any, as Monday was the day the magazine came in to profile our church.

“Hold still,” Marsha chided me. “Do you want to be perfect in your photo or not?”

I looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Honey, there’s not enough makeup in the world.”

“Never underestimate me.” She took my chin in her fingertips and turned it side to side. “A tad more color on the left cheek.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“Because it is a big deal. A spread in
American Christian
magazine, complete with photos, is a big deal. Besides, you’re the only really pretty one on staff. We’ve got to play up your assets, because that makes us all look good.”

“That is so not true. Carleigh is beautiful, and so are Jana and Beth.”

“Carleigh is pretty enough in her outdoorsy sort of way. If she’d do something with her hair and makeup she’d look a lot better. As for Jana and Beth, well … they are beautiful on the inside and that’s what counts. It just doesn’t translate well onto film.” Marsha’s tone was matter-of-fact as she applied dark brown eye shadow to her brush. “Now close your eyes and hold still.”

I did as I was told, thinking about her comment about Beth and Jana being beautiful on the inside. The same could no longer be said about me. Even though I’d more or less come to terms with what I’d done, the fact that there were Louisville Slugger ashes in a trash can in my side yard burned a gaping hole in anything of beauty that might have been there. I was certain of it.

Twenty

“Hey, Mom, since it’s Saturday, Uncle Monte let us knock off work early, and I thought I’d head down there in a few hours. Maybe around dinner. You game for a little motherson bonding?”

“I can’t think of anything better.” I still found myself amazed each time I heard my son’s voice like this. Clear, even, and happy. After so many years of slurring, stammering, and miserable, I had begun to wonder if I would ever live to hear this again. I had made the right decision that morning at the fireplace, I became more certain with each passing day. “But Caroline’s already here, so we’ll have to make it mother-son-and-daughter bonding.”

“Even better.” His voice sounded so upbeat. It reminded me of something or someone, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

“I’ll be there around four o’clock. That work?”

“Perfectly.”

After we got off the phone I hummed as I made a quick grocery list. Spaghetti had always been high on both Kurt’s and Caroline’s list, some salad and rolls, and maybe for tonight a pineapple upside-down cake. I hadn’t baked one in years, but Kurt had always loved them. I’d have to get some ice cream as a concession to Caroline, who hated anything that wasn’t chocolate.

As I drove toward the store, my enthusiasm wavered. Saturday. He wasn’t just coming down for bonding. This was the day he’d wanted the money.

I checked my watch. The banks would be open only another hour or two. Should I stop at the bank? Pretend I got there just after they closed? These questions turned over and over in my mind, but no clear answers came. “God, won’t you please tell me what I should do here?”

I’ve never been one of those people who hears the voice of God. But sometimes after I said a prayer like that, I’d get a little feeling, a niggling inside. Usually I attributed it to God’s quiet voice, although sometimes maybe it was just the answer I wanted to hear. No matter, because this time I heard nothing. Not a single tiny stirring inside me that pointed in either direction. Nada.

Before I had time to think better of it, I turned into the bank and pulled open the door. The young blonde behind the counter arched her eyebrow when she saw the check I’d written for cash. Two thousand dollars’ worth of cash. “I need some ID, please.” Her pink V-neck was cut a few inches lower than I considered decent, and she wore a large cocktail ring on each hand of white plastic fingernails.

I handed her my driver’s license, which she looked over carefully. She finally handed it back. “Two thousand dollars is a lot of money.”

The explanation that it was for my son made it as far as my tongue, but stopped before it crossed my lips. It was none of her business. “Yes, it is. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry.”

She took her time counting out the money, stopping occasionally to straighten the gaudy orange-stoned ring on her right hand, looking up every couple hundred dollars. I’m not sure what she expected to see, but I had the distinct feeling that whatever it was, it would make me look guilty. Maybe she expected to see my accomplice, and hoped that somehow she’d be rewarded for stopping this evil withdrawal scheme. I don’t know, but it bothered me. Even though I was simply withdrawing my own money from my bank, I squirmed at her obvious doubt of my innocence.

How many times would someone look at Kurt and misjudge him because of his past? Someone whose judgment would truly matter to him, like teachers, employers, friends. That thought alone began to weight the decision in favor of giving him the cash. Still, I wouldn’t do it right away. I’d take my time and hold on to it for a little while, just to be certain.

Caroline was out the door and had wrapped herself around her brother’s legs before I even realized he was in the driveway. I ran down the steps two at a time, but there was no reason to have hurried. It was obvious by this point I was going to have to wait my turn. “Kurt, Kurt, Kurt.” She squeezed his legs and put her cheeks against his knees. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

He almost fell as he leaned over to try to return the hug. “Tell you what, Short Stuff, if you’ll let go of my legs and stand up, I’ll be able to give you a hug, too.”

She squeezed tight for a couple more seconds as if afraid that if she released him he would disappear. I understood exactly how she felt. Finally, she climbed to her feet and he picked her up and hugged her tight. This lasted only a few seconds until he said, “Wow, when did you get so big? I used to be able to carry you around all day. Now I’m thinking you’re heavier than all those gigantic tree limbs I’m dragging around for Uncle Monte.”

“It’s all that good ice cream that makes me grow so big.” She drew her arms so tightly around his neck I was afraid he couldn’t breathe.

He did manage to choke out a laugh. “Ice cream?”

She leaned back and smiled at him. “Yeah, mom tries to tell me it’s the broccoli she keeps putting on my plate, but you and me, we know better.”

“You and I,” I corrected out of sheer habit.

Kurt smiled over Caroline’s shoulder at me. “Well, there’s the eat-your-vegetables monster right there.”

He leaned forward to put Caroline down, but she wasn’t having any of it. She held on tight and dangled from his neck, even after he let go and had bent forward at a ninety-degree angle. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“You’re going to put me in the hospital with a thrown-out back if you don’t let go.”

“At least then I could come see you every day.”

Kurt straightened up at this comment. He looked down at her, then back at me, a shimmer of liquid at the bottom of his eyes. “Well, I guess if you’re willing to sacrifice my health to keep me around, I’ll just have to carry you up the stairs and into the house.”

She giggled. “That’s right.”

He carried her into the living room, and with one smooth motion managed to pull her arms free and launch her flying across the room and onto the couch. “There’s more than one way to get rid of parasites, you know.”

“I’m not a parasite.” She launched herself back at him, and before I could stop it, the two of them were wrestling on the floor. Arms and legs were flailing everywhere, and Caroline’s hysterical laughter could have been heard for at least a mile away.

“Okay, you two, knock it off before the police show up.”

The words were a joke, one I’d used dozens of times when the boys were being rowdy. A common joke in many households probably. Only at that moment, it wasn’t funny. I swallowed back the gasp that rose to my throat, and when I looked at Kurt, I could see the words pained him, too. Only Caroline remained oblivious and continued to thrash around like nothing had changed.

BOOK: Leaving Yesterday
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