Far From You (7 page)

Outside,

the air was cool

and crisp,

the way you want your sheets

when it’s blistering

hot.

We walked to the park

and ran through the leaves,

picking them up

and throwing them at each other,

as if they were snowballs.

Instead of loud splats,

we got quiet flutters

of crimson and amber.

He pulled me to him,

spun me around,

and we fell

into a bed of foliage

fit for a king.

I wanted to freeze

the moment

in my mind

forever,

because there’s nothing better

than flutters

of the heart.

When he held me close,

out of breath,

leaves stuck to our jackets,

I whispered,

“I’m going to California in two days.”

He whispered back,

“And in seven days, you’ll be back home again.

With me.

And maybe being apart will make you want me like I

want you.”

I laughed because he’s

such a
guy

and you can’t blame him

for trying.

“Yes,” I told him.

“In seven days I’ll be home again.”

“So count to seven instead of two,” he said.

“Seven’s better anyway.”

And then he proceeded to give me

seven

amazing

kisses

just to

prove it.

As I drove back home,

I thought about

driving in our old Isuzu Trooper

all that way

with the three of them.

Later, I asked Dad

if he thought it was

just a little crazy

to take an almost newborn

on a long car trip.

“Why? She’ll sleep most of the way.

We’ll stop every few hours so Vic can nurse her.

With stops, we figure it’ll be a twelve-hour trip.

It’ll be fine.

Her parents really want to see their granddaughter.”

“Right.

So why do I have to go?”

“They want to see you too, Ali.”

The whole thing

wasn’t just a little crazy.

It was absolutely

insane.

Sunday morning

I got dressed

and went to church.

On the way there,

I prayed for a lot of things.

I prayed I could talk to Claire.

I prayed she’d listen.

I prayed she’d want to talk to me.

I prayed we’d be rushing to say “Sorry” first.

I prayed the distance between us

would disappear as soon as we hugged,

because we really are

best friends forever.

I prayed

and I prayed

and I prayed.

But when I got there,

Claire was nowhere

to be found.

And so

there was nothing to do

but go to her house

after church

and get her to talk to me

so we could end

this ridiculous fight,

or whatever it was

between us.

But on the way I realized

if she wanted to see me,

to talk to me,

she’d have been at church

like I was.

I mean,

that’s been our thing—

to go there

together.

Wouldn’t she

have made some kind

of effort,

if making up

was important

to her?

I drove

slower

and slower,

trying to decide

if I should go

or not.

Confused.

Then Dad called.

He asked me to stop at the store

and get snacks

and other necessities

for the road trip.

That’s all it took

to help me make up my mind.

If she wanted to see me,

she knew where to find me.

At least until the next day,

when I’d be

on the road

to nowhere fast.

I discovered

when you’re going

on a trip

with a baby,

the whole

flippin’ house

has to come along too.

But then I realized

if we just kept

packing it in,

maybe

there wouldn’t be

any room left

for

me!

There

was

room.

Right

next

to

the

car

seat.

Sunday night

Blaze came over

after work

to see me

before we left

bright and early

Monday morning.

As we walked

down the sidewalk,

bundled up,

arm in arm,

I told him

about Claire

and asked him

to check in with her

for me.

He told me

I was worrying too much

and I was probably

making more out of it

than I needed to.

He stopped walking,

turned,

and kissed me.

Goose bumps

rose

up

and

down

my body.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” he whispered

as he nuzzled my neck.

I looked up at the moon,

a silvery slice hanging there

like a shiny ornament

on a Christmas tree.

“Me too,” I whispered back.

“I don’t want to go.”

“Who knows,” he said,

curling my hair with his finger,

“maybe you’ll have fun.

Vic seems pretty nice.”

It was so funny,

I couldn’t help but

tilt my head back

and laugh out loud.

“You are crazy,” he said,

pulling me to him

and kissing me

again.

Crazy in love

was all.

We left

before the sun

even peeked

its head out

from underneath

the covers.

I wished

I could have stayed

in my bed,

peaceful and warm.

After we dropped Cobain off

at the kennel,

we drank coffee

and ate doughnuts.

Then I tried to go

back to sleep.

It became obvious

fairly quickly

the baby

was

NOT

going to sleep

most of the way.

I put my earbuds in

and cranked the tunes.

A couple of times

Victoria asked me

to try to do something

to get Ivy

to stop crying.

Reluctantly,

I gave her my pinky

to suck on.

But when my arm

got tired

and I moved it away,

she started crying

again.

Victoria and Dad

looked at me

like I was supposed to keep

my pinky

in her mouth

forever.

I turned the music up,

rested my head against the window,

and pretended to sleep

like a baby should

and a bratty teenager

does.

Imagine

a matchbox

with a broken match

dividing it up

into tiny rooms,

and you have

a pretty good picture

of their house.

After kisses and hugs

that smelled like garlic and wine,

Victoria’s mom, Linda, said,

“Let me show you to your room.”

Room. Singular.

One room

for two adults,

one baby,

and a

cussing-under-her-breath

teenager.

“You don’t mind the floor, do you, Ali?” Victoria asked me.

c

Like I had a choice.

A sleeping bag

magically appeared

from the pile of stuff

we had brought.

They knew.

They could have made

reservations somewhere,

and they chose

not to.

That’s when I was thinking,

who are these people

and what the hell

am I doing with them?

When the baby wasn’t crying,

Dad was snoring.

I took my sleeping bag

and moved to the couch.

Around 5 a.m.

I discovered

Ted and Linda

are the type of people

who enjoy

greeting the sun

with a cup of coffee.

So much

for sleeping in

over break.

As I sat up

and considered

hitchhiking home,

Linda asked me

if I liked cream or sugar

with my coffee.

“Just cream,” I said.

And then a vision

popped into my brain

of her finding a glass

in the fridge

and pouring it into

my cup.

I couldn’t help it.

I jumped up to check.

She held a carton of cream

and poured some

into my big,

steaming mug.

It was probably

one of the best

cups of coffee

I’d ever had.

I decided if she’d just

keep the coffee coming,

maybe,

just maybe,

I could survive.

For two days

and two nights

we stayed in the

teeny-tiny house,

playing cards

and watching movies.

My guitar

was in the car

because I insisted

on bringing it,

but I was embarrassed to play it

in front of everyone.

So there was nothing else to do.

I had never

ever

ever

ever

ever

been

so

completely

bored.

Even Dad

was starting to look

like he was plagued

with cabin fever.

Which is probably why

he didn’t argue at all

when his boss called him

and told him

he had to

fly to New York

on Thanksgiving night

and meet with a lawyer

first thing

Friday morning.

“Can I go with you?” I asked him.

“I’ve always wanted to see New York.”

He shook his head

and told me

I had to stay with

Victoria and Ivy

because she might need help

on the drive home.

Wonderful.

“Did you know this might happen, Dad?” I asked.

“Yeah.

I mean, with my job, it’s always a possibility.”

It suddenly made

perfect sense

why they forced me

to come along.

At Linda’s suggestion,

we went around the table

and said what we were thankful for.

There was only one rule.

Once something was said,

it couldn’t be said again.

Linda said family.

Ted said football.

Dad said health.

Victoria said Ivy.

Eyes turned to me.

Some eyes were curious,

some eyes were hopeful,

and it felt like

some eyes were disapproving.

Whatever they were,

they were all on me.

And when I said

the word “Blaze,”

four eyes looked confused

and four others looked embarrassed.

“My boyfriend,” I mumbled,

to at least make the confused

less so.

They nodded

and smiled,

then Ted jumped up and said,

“Okay, let’s cut the bird, shall we?”

So we gobbled the turkey,

got stuffed on the stuffing,

and ended on a sweet note

with fresh pumpkin pie.

After dinner

Linda brought out gifts

wrapped up in

paper splattered with

Santas, snowmen,

and angels.

I wondered if her calendar

was on the wrong month.

She told us

to take them home

and put them

under our tree

since we wouldn’t be seeing them

for Christmas.

They’d be going to

North Carolina

to visit Victoria’s brother

and sister-in-law.

Dad threw the box of gifts

in the back of the Trooper

before he left for the airport.

I got a quick good-bye,

while Victoria and the baby

got a lingering one outside

as Ted waited in the car

to drive Dad to the airport.

When Victoria came inside,

I noticed the tears on her face

before she retreated

to her room.

Linda said, “Come on, Ali.

Let’s play rummy.”

Man.

Dad was

so

lucky.