“Mmmm…what’s cookin’, Good Lookin’?” I yelled as I opened the front door. My body was screaming for my bed, but I decided to put on a happy face for my grandma. I’d missed her.
And I selfishly needed her to remind me that I was a good person. After what I’d said to Jared today, I didn’t even want to face myself in the mirror.
Her arrival could be smelled from the driveway. The rich aroma of sauce and meat danced through my nostrils enveloping me in a warm blanket even before I closed the front door.
“Hi, Peaches!” Grandma seemed to dance from the kitchen to the foyer, taking me into her arms. In the year I’d been gone, I’d missed her scent-filled hugs. The hairspray from her hair mixed with the lotion and perfume she used, and the leather from her belts and shoes created this aroma of home in my mind. After Mom died, I’d needed my grandma a lot.
“Oh, I forgot about “Peaches.” Dad still calls me “Pumpkin.” What is it with you Brandts naming me after fruit?” I teased, knowing their endearments were out of love.
“Oh, now. Don’t deny an old lady the pleasure of her pet names.” She plastered a kiss on my cheek with a mwah.
“Grandma, you’re younger at heart than me.” I dropped my bag by the wall and crossed my arms over my chest. “The only thing old about you is your music.” I cocked an eyebrow.
“The Beetles are timeless. Unlike that “screaming” you call music.” I rolled my eyes, and she hooked my arm, leading me into the kitchen.
My grandma is a product of fifties’ parenting—overbearing, every hair in the right place—but she also blossomed during her teens and the rebellion of the sixties. The desire to be active in her environment and experience the world led her to travel a lot as a young adult. When she found out about me going to France for a year, she couldn’t have been more thrilled. Experience is the best teacher. Her echo followed me everywhere.
While she was just over sixty, she looked much younger. Her hair was light brown with some gray, which she usually wore down around her shoulders. Healthy eating and exercise kept her fit, happy, and energetic. Her style was eclectic. I’ve seen her in pants suits and Rolling Stones t-shirts.
“So tell me how school’s been going?” She grabbed come lettuce off the island and began rinsing it in the sink.
“It’s fine.” My bed wasn’t far off now, and my body was too listless to even entertain the idea of actually telling her the truth.
Her eyes shot up at me, though, and she turned off the water. “What’s wrong?” She was breathing through her nose. That’s never good. This woman knew me too well.
“Nothing’s wrong. I said everything was fine.” Please just leave it alone.
Her eyes narrowed. “When you’re happy, you tell me everything: homework, Science Club, France, Cross Country—“
“I’m totally fine,” I interrupted, running my hand across my forehead. “It’s been a rough day is all. I woke up late and got off on the wrong foot. So what time did you get in?”
She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at my change of subject but let it go. “About noon I guess. I thought I’d get in a little early to clean up and start some laundry…” Her words trailed off as she waved a hand through the air. “But you seem to have it all under control.”
“Well, I was taught by the best. Not that I’m not glad you’re here, but you really don’t need to worry. I’ve been doing great.”
“That’s good.” Frowning a little, she continued, “Actually, it’s great. Knowing you’ll be going off to New York next year worries me, and seeing how well you’ve taken care of yourself and the house helps. I guess you don’t need me or your dad so much anymore.”
“I don’t know about that. My cooking stinks, so having you around means I’ll eat better!” I giggled as she shook the leafy lettuce at me and droplets of water flew across my face.
“Hey!” I laughed, taking a paper towel from the stand on the island and patting my face.
Already feeling a bit lighter, I bounced off my chair to help out with dinner. My grandma put together a salad, pasta, and sautéed mushrooms. I made my mouth-watering garlic bread, which was about the only thing I actually baked in the oven. The rest of my diet usually included whatever could be cooked in the microwave. She set up the table in the back patio, and I put on some ambient music, which was common ground for both of us.
“So you think I’ll get into Columbia?” I asked as we served each other.
“I have a feeling about these things.”
“Yeah, you also had a feeling my first kiss was going to be epic. We both know how that turned out.” I joked with her, completely content with this moment. The food looked succulent, while the weightless breeze brought the trees to life and the smell of roses to our table.
She started laughing, almost choking on her sip of wine. “You know”—my grandma held up a finger— “in all fairness, I didn’t know your first kiss was going to be with someone you barely knew. I thought it would’ve been that kid next door.”
Jared.
My face instantly fell with the reminder of him. Distant memories of the now-ancient dreams I once had for Jared danced through my head. There were so many times growing up that I wanted to kiss him.
“Just because we hung out when I was a tween doesn’t mean we were into each other like that. We were just friends,” I mumbled, my brow now creased with aggravation. The conversation was pleasant until the subject of him came up.
“No, but it was other things too.” My grandma’s pensive expression made me want to change the subject again. “There were things I’d pick up on. The way you two always had your heads together, the way he would look at you when you didn’t know it,…and the way he would sneak over for sleepovers.”
She drug out the last part slowly, her knowing eyes mocking my wide-eyed expression. Oh, crap!
“You didn’t think I knew about that, did you?” she asked.
Of course I had no idea my grandmother knew about that! From as early in our friendship as I could remember, Jared would climb through the tree between our bedrooms and sneak through my French doors. It wasn’t a lot, just when his mom had been drinking and he needed to get away. Since I always had a queen sized bed, we were very comfortable and maintained our own spaces, even though his hand would eventually find mine during the night.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. We’re not close.” Twirling some pasta around my fork, I stuffed my mouth hoping this subject would end.
“How has he been treating you since you got back?”
Mouth still full, I rolled my eyes and shook my head to indicate that things still weren’t good, and I didn’t care to talk about it.
“Have you ever talked to him like I suggested?” She inquired before starting her salad.
“Grandma, I don’t even care to try. We were friends once; now we’re not. My heart’s not breaking over it,” I lied.
“Tate, I know it hurts. He’s been an ass to you.”
“Really, I couldn’t care less. And even if it did hurt, I certainly wouldn’t let him see it. He’s done horrible things to me, and if my tears are what he needs to get off, then he can suffer. He doesn’t deserve my attention.”
My grandma put her fork down, uneaten salad dipping into the pasta, “Tatum, that’s your mother talking.”
My eyes darted up to her, shocked by her annoyed tone.
“Honey, I loved your mom. We all did. And I know she meant well, trying to teach you to be strong, since she knew she wouldn’t be here to guide you through tough times. But honey, letting yourself be vulnerable isn’t always a weakness. Sometimes, it can be a conscious decision to draw the other person out.”
Even though what my grandma was saying sounded sensible, the idea of approaching Jared for a heart-to-heart triggered my gag reflex. I felt horrible about what I’d said to him today, but it didn’t erase all the crap he’d done from my memory. Seeking him out would make him peel with laughter. That was an image that reeked.
“I don’t care about drawing Jared out. Whatever he’s got up his ass can’t be bad enough to treat people how he does. I don’t care.” His brown eyes flashed in my mind.
“Yes, you do,” my grandma stated flatly. “I know how your mother’s death affected you. I know you want to be a doctor, so you can help people that are hurting the way she was with cancer. I know you take her advice to heart and think everything will be better once you go off to college. But Jared’s faults aren’t the only ones hurting you.”
Throwing my fork down on my plate, I wiped the thin layer of sweat off my brow. How did this get turned around on me? “Now, wait a minute. I’m getting pretty tired of everyone being on his side. He walked away from me.” Huffing back in my chair, I crossed my arms over my chest.
“And you let him, Tate.”
“What the hell was I supposed to do?! He wouldn’t talk to me. I tried.”
Bed. Sleep. Escape.
“Calm down. I’m not saying you weren’t a good friend. Of course you were. His issues started this. But it’s easy to say you’ve tried and then just walk away. It’s easy to say that you can’t force help on someone that doesn’t want help and then walk away. You think you’re being noble and strong by turning the other cheek or biding your time until school’s over. But that baggage that you aren’t letting out is weakening you. Sometimes it’s the best medicine to be vulnerable, to let it all out and let him see how he’s hurt you. Then you can say that you’ve tried.”
My eyes closed, and I cupped my forehead once again. I had so much on my plate right now with the Science Fair, cross country and K.C. Why was I even wasting my time having this conversation?
Exasperated, I waved my hand in the air and let it plop down to my lap. “Why do you care? You threatened to go talk to his mom when this started.” As far as I knew, my grandma wasn’t Jared’s biggest fan. While she always encouraged me to talk to him, she was also disgusted over his behavior. I’d stopped telling her and my dad every nasty detail of his treatment of me, because I didn’t want this resolved unless Jared initiated it. When that happened, I figured he’d seek me out. He never had.
“Because you’ve never been the same. And because when you do go off to college, I want your heart to be free.”
Free. What did that even feel like anymore?
“I’ve let it go. I am free.” I didn’t know what she wanted from me.
“Acting like you don’t care is not letting it go.” She pinned me with her challenging stare.
My body slumped. There wasn’t anything in my arsenal after that.
Feeling mentally and physically drained, I was pretty delighted when Grandma let me head up to bed without helping with the cleanup. Once in my bathroom, I stripped down and stepped into the warmth and quiet of my shower. This pulsating hideaway was the one place I could escape without leaving my house. I could think and just be quiet whenever I needed, and no one was the wiser, and no one disturbed me.
It was only six o’clock, and I had some chapters for Catcher in the Rye due tomorrow as well as some questions for Physics, but it was no use fighting the drowsiness. I set my alarm for four a.m., giving me enough time to get up and do my school work, and went to the French doors to draw the curtains.
I noticed the wind picking up and the sky overshadowed with ashen clouds. The neighborhood trees were still a vibrant green, and the voltage that suddenly coursed through the sky made a tiny, grateful smile flash across my face. Knowing a storm was on its way calmed me, so I left the doors open.
***
Stunned awake by a piercing crash, I sat up in bed trying to get my bearings. I wiped the grogginess from my eyes while yawning. Looking around the room, I noticed that the French doors were still open, and the rain was falling steadily outside. Glancing at my clock, I saw that I’d been asleep for about six hours.
Peeling off the covers and stepping out of bed, I went to the railing outside my French doors and took in the spectacle of thunder and lightning around the midnight sky. That must’ve been what had woken me. The chilly air gave me goose bumps, and droplets of rain fell on my skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t falling in buckets. Otherwise, my floor would’ve been soaked.
I studied the tree next to my doors, taking into consideration that the rain coming through the canopy of leaves was light. With my heartbeat surging through my chest, I grabbed onto the crown molding around my door, put my foot on the railing and hoisted myself up. I held one of the branches above my head and touched my foot to another branch jutting into the railing. Delicious fear heated up my muscles and reminded me that I’d been a lot braver as a child. I inched out until the branches got thicker and then teetered until I reached the trunk.
Sitting down in my old space, the familiar pitter-patter of raindrops hitting leaves welcomed me home. Propped with my back against the trunk and my legs resting on the thick branch from where I came, I glorified in how easy it was to reclaim this simple part of myself. I hadn’t been out here in years.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a light, possibly from the front porch, of Jared’s house pop on. Seconds later, a girl came running down the front pathway with a black sweatshirt over her head. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew who it was when I saw the car she was running towards.
K.C.
At Jared’s house.
At midnight.
There was no sign of him, and the porch light flickered off as soon as she was in her car. The uncontrollable pounding in my chest started, so I closed my eyes for several minutes trying to get back the peace I was enjoying just a minute ago.
“Sitting in a tree during a thunderstorm? You’re some kind of genius.” The deep voice almost shocked me right out of the tree. My eyes popped open, and I twisted around to see Jared leaning out his window. He was clothed, at least. That made me feel better after seeing K.C. leave his house.
“I like to think so, yes,” I mumbled, turning back to the storm. My anger with Jared had lessened. Considerably. After my hateful words to him today, I just felt embarrassed and ashamed now.
“Tree? Lightning? Ring any bells?”
Of course I knew it was dangerous. That’s what made it so fun.
“It never mattered to you before,” I pointed out, keeping my eyes focused on the glistening road shining under the streetlights.
“What? You sitting in a tree during a storm?”
“No, me getting hurt.” The urge to look at him was strong. I wanted to see his eyes so badly that it felt like an invisible hand was forcing my face to turn to him. I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to see us.
There was no response for several seconds, but I knew he was still there. My body reacted to his presence, and I could feel his eyes on me.
“Tatum?” His voice sounded soft and gentle, and I instantly felt warm all over. But then he spoke again. “I wouldn’t care if you were alive or dead.”
All the air left my body, and I sat on the tree branch feeling completely defeated.
No more. I couldn’t do this anymore. There was no life in feeling like this. It was all a game to him, but I didn’t have the heart to play it anymore. I’m not strong. I’m not a bully. I’m not happy. I knew what I needed to do.
I’m letting you go.
“Jared?” I said, still staring out to the rain-soaked street. “I’m sorry about what I said to you today.”
I looked over to him, but he was gone.
