"How was your first day?' Mom asked when I got home. "Anything exciting happen?" Mom was sitting at her easel in the corner of our small kitchen, painting what would likely be another oceanic scene.
"Good. No." Had to play it cool, Mom was a Jedi of the mind.
"Good, huh? Interesting."
"Why is that interesting?" I asked rummaging through our refrigerator for ham and cheese. "Don’t we have mustard?"
"In the cupboard, it hasn't been opened yet.” Mom turned herself toward me. “Interesting because your favorite word is fine. Everything’s fine, everyone’s fine, you’re always fine. But today, we have good." She pulled her glasses from her face and nestled them onto her auburn top knotted head. Mom had aged drastically over these last few years but was still beautiful. Janie looked just like her. The familiar ache for my sister took over like swimming cramps.
I continued to concentrate on my sandwich making. You should know I’m quite the artist. The trick is to smoosh it. You want a solid handprint in the sandwich so you taste everything all at the same time. Yes, thank you, I am also very good at changing the subject.
"You're smiling Kiddo," Mom said, a hint of an old familiar mischief in her voice, her own smile getting bigger. “What’s his name?”
"Nah-uh.” Shoot! “Wait, what?” Dammit! Jedi tricks! My face flushed a bit. I focused on not smiling, which was kind of hard so I must've looked like the friggin Joker. "I'm just happy knowing this is my last new school. Oh crap, did I just jinx us?"
"Haha, Missy. One day you'll be grateful for all of our adventures. You've had more life experience than any kid your age, I promise."
I couldn’t tell Mom I didn't really want all this "life experience" because I knew she didn’t either. On the other hand, I supposed I was a very tiny bit grateful to have ended up in New Jersey. Oh God, I can't believe I allowed that thought.
I chewed my sandwich thoughtfully for a moment and decided to try venturing again into the deep waters of my mother’s grief. “Mom," I started carefully, "I know we call it 'adventures' but didn't it ever feel like we were running away?"
"Nope!" she practically sang out turning back to her easel. Dang it. Friends, allow me to introduce, Suzy Sunshine. "Moving on is healthy and that's what we do. Change is the best thing for your soul!" She was painting again.
I worked an especially thick bite of sandwich from the the roof of my mouth and swallowed. “Then why do you always paint home?" I was determined to…I don’t really know, but something.
Mom was quiet, her brush paused a moment, hovered over the tiny seagull she was creating in the corner of her majestic sky. I imagined her getting teary even though I had no way of knowing with her back to me. I was sorry I'd said anything. Mom and Dad were so frustrating, but actually pretty great people. I didn't even blame them too much that in their choices of "moving on adventure style” they had basically murdered my teenage years. I got it. They were chasing a new sun and moon, they just hadn't found it yet.
"So, tell me about this boy," she said brightly, turning back to face me. Damn, she was good, I had to give it to her.
"Mom, stop, you're ridiculous," but I laughed as I said it, blowing my own cover. "I have homework." I stuck my dish in the sink, kissed her cheek and headed upstairs.
I flopped onto my current bed (we always rented furnished places) and stared up at the ceiling. The room was still bare, I’d given up on hanging posters or any kind of decorating after Ohio. But Grammy’s quilt beneath me was familiar and the stacks of books and CDs I’d been collecting were familiar. And Jason was so familiar. His face was etched on my brain. I shook my head as if it would erase him like an Etch-A-Sketch.
Earlier, after the final bell, Jason grabbed my hand and tucked a piece of scrap of paper into it. It tingled when he touched me and I definitely didn’t hate it but I pulled my hand away quickly and shoved it into my pocket before I caught fire.
I’d told him to write the name Dylan on it in case anyone found it.
“As in McKay?” he rolled his eyes at me.
“What? So?!”
“You still watch that crap?” he said with the 90210 signature “Chhh, chhh” at the end of his question.
“Looks like I’m not the only one,” I teased.
“What can I say? It’s what Carey would’ve wanted,” a sharp pain peeked out from behind the smile in his eyes. A pain I was all too familiar with.
I pulled the tiny square of paper out of my back pocket and stared at it.
He had written, “You better call!" above his number and then underneath it, in tinier writing it said, "Missed you G" and I smiled like the Cheshire cat. Probably even rolled my googily eyes too.
Wow. Jason Andrews! I knew it wasn't a small thing that we ended up back together, er, not together, we were never together, I just meant…you know what I meant. It had been a long time.
And I had missed him too.