“What, honey?”
He couldn’t seem to look at her. Claire couldn’t breathe.She couldn’t think.
“I wasn’t gonna tell you,” he said. “Not for a while. Butyou need to know.”
“Know what?”
He took in a breath and faced her.
“Do you know what yesterday was, Mom?”
“Of course I do. The funeral. We spent all day there.”
“My birthday.”
She held on tight. It was the only thing that kept her fromrunning again. “Don’t be silly….”
Color crept up his cheeks. “It was my birthday. I’meighteen now, Mom.”
Claire looked away, struggled for composure. “Ineverforget your birthday, John. Never.”
“Mom, you’ve been taking care of Pete the last five dayssince his dad died, and you had to get through the funeralyesterday. I told Jess to let you forget it this time. It’s okay, really.”
“No,” she insisted, suddenly terrified. “It’s not. It’s notokay at all.”
“Mom, that’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to tellyou that I gave myself a birthday present this morning. Peteand I went out before we knew... before Nadine told us youhadn’t been to work.”
Why was she feeling such panic? Where had the daysgone? How could she have possibly forgotten Johnny’sbirthday, even after Nadine had reminded her? His eighteenth birthday? How could that have happened? The wallswere closing in again. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’tpush away the fresh agony.
“Mom, please,” he pleaded, and got her to look at him.
When she didn’t answer, he reached over and took holdof her hand. “We enlisted, Mom.”
Claire found herself on her feet. “No.”
Johnny jumped up, but she was too fast for him. Shepulled away, tried to get out of the room.
“Mom, listen to me.”
She whirled, furious. Terrified. “No! I told you no.” Shewas disintegrating. She could feel it, as if logic and sense hadfinally reached their breaking points. As if the insanity she so feared had walked in the room with her son.
“I told you no!”
“I want to fly!” he retorted, intense, adult, horrifyinglycertain.
“Youareflying! You fly almost every weekend. You canfly any plane you want. You don’t need to do this!”
“I want to fly fighters. I’ve always wanted to fly fighters, but you wouldn’t listen to me. You wouldn’t even talkto me about applying to the academy, and after yesterday, Iknew you wouldn’t let me try anything else. So I thought I had to make a commitment you couldn’t turn down. I hadto take matters into my own hands. They’ve promised me aprogram that will let me be a pilot. With my hours and experience, I can get a degree in engineering and fly.”
“But you’re only a senior,” she insisted, her handsclenched to keep from striking him, her chest on fire. “Youhaven’t finished high school.”
“They’ll wait. They’re thrilled to have me.”
She laughed then, the sound ugly and frightened. “Ofcourse they’re thrilled to have you. They always need freshmeat for the grinder.”
Not now, she thought. Not today. Dear God, not mybaby.
“Mom, listen to me.”
