“Mom…” I say it low, a warning.
“They almost ruined your future!” Her voice raises as she speaks, her thin, white hand coming down hard on the counter.
My head shakes. I’m ready to be done with this conversation. This is exactly why I shouldn’t have told my mother I was coming home. When she visits me in Chicago, she doesn’t act like this. “I’m going to grab a shower, Mom.”
I’ve taken three steps when her voice speaks up behind me.
“You were taken to jail,” she hisses, an attempt to get control of her volume.
I keep walking, but I feel compelled to respond as my legs move me farther away. “I was taken to the police station,” I clarify. “Not jail.”
“Because ofher,” she calls out just before I turn the corner and disappear from sight.
My mom is right. I went to the police station because of Lennon. More specifically, I went to the police station because of Lennon’s stepfather.
Sometimes I replay that night in my head, and when I do, it happens differently.
* * *
I callLennon when I’m finished with my shower. She tells me she’s knee deep in going through her mom’s closet, and it’s only the beginning. Next up: the rest of the house. I can only imagine the personal cost to Lennon. Sifting through the artifacts of the person who treated you viciously? It’s like one last cruelty. A final fuck you.
When I offer my help, I don’t really expect Lennon to accept it. She’s self-reliant, almost to a fault. When she says yes, I know it means she’s at her wit’s end.
I find my mom sitting at her desk. In the time it took me to take a shower, I’ve cooled off a bit. I don’t want to fight with my mom, especially since I haven’t seen her in a few months.
“Mom—” I begin, but fall silent when she looks up. Her eyes are red, like she’s been crying. My mom rarely cries.
She sniffs. “I’m sorry for all that in the kitchen. It’s not just you, I have other things on my mind.” She gives me a pointed look and goes on. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m still not pleased that your friendship with those two continues. But, friendships don’t usually endure for no reason at all, so clearly there is something between the three of you I just don’t understand.”
It’s as close as she’ll come to an apology, and I’ll take it.
“What’s on your mind, Mom?”
She sighs, her shoulders drooping with the weight of whatever it is she carries. “Your sister, of course.”
“What happened now?”
“She was fired. It’s her third job this year.” She glances out the window to the street, one finger tapping the center of her bottom lip. She looks back at me. “When is she going to grow up?”
Her question is not rhetorical, I can tell. Her eyes beseech me. I wish I had a better answer.
Shrugging, I tell her, “Hopefully soon, Mom.” Is it fair to offer my mother hope? Probably not. But if she doesn’t have hope, I don’t know what else she’ll cling to.
She blinks twice, as if trying to clear away the heavy air. “Are you heading out?” Her eyes take in my freshly washed hair and my clothing; green shorts, and a gray V-neck tee.
I nod. “Lennon needs help going through her mom’s belongings. There is a whole house of stuff to sort through, and she’s feeling overwhelmed.”
Mom stands, coming out from behind her desk. “Why don’t you invite Lennon and Finn over here for dinner tonight?”
She sees my shocked expression, and grins. “I know, it’s the last thing you expected me to say.”
“You and dad building an ice cave here in the middle of summer would be more believable than you inviting over Lennon and Finn.”
Mom balks. “I seem to remember Lennon coming over for dinner a few times in high school.” Her lips twist. “But that was before—”
“Okay okay,” I say, interrupting her. We don’t need to talk about what happened. It is done and gone. Besides, charges were never filed, against Lennon or anyone else. The police couldn’t determine motive, and there was no weapon. Beyond all that, one thing stood truer than any other thing: Lennon was innocent. We all were.
“Why the change of heart?” I ask her.
