Adam:
It’s a big piece.
Jolene:
I didn’t save you any Tofurky.
Adam:
Thanks for that.
Jolene:
Happy Turkey Day, Adam.
Adam:
Happy Turkey Day, Jolene.
ADAM
Ihadn’t seen Erica in a week. I’d been relieved that she was already in the auditorium for play rehearsal when I got back from ditching with Jolene (very relieved, since our hug in the parking lot went on for longer than I would have been able to explain to my girlfriend). But then she got sick over Thanksgiving and missed a few days of school, giving me abundant time to hate myself for how I’d been treating her.
That self-loathing was still lingering at home the following Thursday as I was helping Mom with the dishes—I rinsed, she loaded—until she propped a hip on the counter and stilled my hand before I could reach for another glass.
“Adam.” She brushed a lock of my hair from my bent face. “You’re a million miles away.”
I was, and I mentally added Mom’s name to the list of people I was being unfair to. Next weekend would be the sixth Jeremy and I would spend away from her, and the signs of our impending departure started earlier and earlier each time we left; the tense way she held her shoulders, the light footsteps walking past our bedrooms all through the night, the way she reached out to touch us more and more, like she was trying to store up the feel of us for those days when she’d have to go without. It was like watching her heart slowly break, and normally I tried to keep her talking and laughing, distracted, as the Friday approached. I wasn’t doing any of that as I silently rinsed dishes in the sink.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I was thinking about this thing I need to do and how much I really don’t want to do it.”
I’d have been able to talk to Greg about Jolene and Erica. He wouldn’t have made a lame joke the way I knew Jeremy would. He’d have listened to me, offered advice, then clapped me on the shoulder and told me to be the man I wanted to be.
I didn’t want to be the kind of man who cheated on his girlfriend, and every weekend I spent with Jolene made it harder to hold back. I’d already come too close to crossing that line and the next time I might charge right past it. I knew I would. Or rather, I’d try, and she’d probably flay me alive. Jolene would never let me make her play the role Shelly had.
And I’d never put her in that position.
“Is this about a girl?” Mom asked.
“Girls,” I told her, emphasizing the plural. She stepped back.
“Adam Noah Moynihan.”
I smiled at her. “C’mon, Mom, you know I wouldn’t do that.”
She cocked her head at me, smiling back. “Well then, tell me what you mean bygirls. I thought you and Jolene...”
Dropping my head even farther, I pulled out my phone and thumbed to the first photo we’d taken, the one by the tree near Dad’s apartment, the one where I looked just like my brother. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my neighbor, who I didn’t even like initially but got to agree to pose for these photos for you, so that I could distract you.”
“Youwhat?” Mom’s voice shook, and I wasn’t sure if that was due to the photo that had rattled her the first time she’d seen it or from the confession I’d made.
“It’s more than that now.” At least, it was for me, but none of that was the point. “I thought I was helping you,” I said, because she looked...hurt.
“By lying to me?”
“I wanted you to think about something besides missing Jeremy and me. And Dad.” I didn’t add Greg, but I knew she understood I was including him, too.
“Adam, that’s not your job.”
