Authors: Rebecca Donovan
My mother huffed with a roll of her eyes. “What happened to you? You used to be fun.” She turned her back to him and started cheering along with the girls.
Jonathan turned toward me. “So, what happened?”
I shrugged. “She’s afraid you don't care about her anymore.”
“Why?” he questioned emphatically. “Because I had to work?”
I didn't answer, and sunk further into the bleachers―not sure how to make this whole thing go away.
My mother reached into her purse and took out her mini Altoids tin.
“Are you serious?” Jonathan accused as she popped a pill in her mouth.
“Well, if you’re not going to be any fun, then I need something to make me happy.”
“What was that?” I asked, having seen her pop the little white pills too many times to count, without really knowing what they were. Jonathan only shook his head in disgust.
He observed her silently as she grew more and more enthusiastic, drawing more attention. His jaw set and the tendons in his neck tightened.
About five minutes later he muttered angrily, “I'm sorry, Emma, but I can’t― I can’t do this.” Jonathan stood up and passed by me toward the steps.
“Where are you going?” my mother yelled after him. He didn’t look back. I could only watch after him in shock as he paced down the sideline and out the gym doors.
“Where is he going?” she demanded in a panic.
“I don’t know,” I replied uneasily.
“Make him stop,” she pled, about to cry. “Please, Emma, you have to stop him from leaving.”
She sniffled and her eyes flickered, coated with tears.
“Okay, okay,” I comforted desperately. “I’ll stop him.”
Jill turned toward my mother and her smile changed to a look of concern. "Rachel, what's wrong?"
"Please help her calm down," I begged Jill before I rushed down the steps and out of the gym. Jonathan was nearing the exit when I caught up with him.
“Jonathan!” I called after him. He turned at the sound of my voice. “Where are you going?”
He waited for me to near before he said, “Emma, I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be responsible for her every time she gets paranoid and emotional.” He sounded defeated, releasing a heavy breath.
“Please don’t leave,” I begged. “If you do, I am so afraid she’s going to make a huge scene, and I don’t know how to handle that.”
Jonathan hesitated, deciding what to do. My stomach was a mess just thinking about the potential breakdown my mother was on the verge of having in front of the entire school.
“Are you leaving me?” my mother asked from behind us. “I knew you were.”
“Rachel, stop,” Jonathan stated firmly. “Not here.”
“Then where? What does it matter where it happens? I know you don't want to be with me anymore, no matter what you said last night.”
“Mom, let me drive you home,” I urged. “I’ll get our jackets.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, stumbling slightly as she took a few steps toward Jonathan. I remained still, frozen by her harsh tone. Her eyes watered as she took another step in Jonathan’s direction. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t lose you too.”
“Let Emma drive you home,” he requested lowly, glancing toward me to make sure I was still okay with driving her. I nodded slightly. “I’ll meet you there and we’ll talk. Okay?”
“Why can’t I leave with you?” she sulked, starting to sniffle.
“I know you’ll want to talk as soon as we get in the truck, and I can’t. I’ll meet you at the house where we can sit down and talk.” Before she could say another word, he left. Tears started draining from my mother’s eyes. I sighed and tried to remain composed, despite the crushing feeling in my chest.
I texted Jill to hold on to our jackets. I’d get them from her later.
“Come on,” I encouraged softly, not sure if I should touch her or not. “Let’s go.”
She trailed after me to the car. Her legs lazily crossed in front of each other as her balance waivered.
My mother stared out the window the entire ride to the house. I kept my eyes on the road, not wanting to watch her suffer beside me. Jonathan’s truck awaited us in the driveway when I pulled in. I hesitated to get out of the car, watching her stumble up the steps.
I really wanted to leave, to not witness what was about to happen. But I couldn't. I had to be here for her, no matter what happened. I pulled out my phone to text Evan,
Had to drive my mother home. Sorry I missed you―call me when you can.
The cool temperature started settling in around me, so I took a deep breath and headed into the house. As soon as I opened the door, I wished I hadn’t.
“This isn’t going to work,” Jonathan told her. “How do you expect me to talk to you if you’re going to continue to drink?”
“Fine,” my mother yelled, throwing the wine glass on the floor, shattering it and spraying red wine all over. “I won’t drink.”
The shattering glass paralyzed me with the door handle still in my grasp.
“Rachel!” Jonathan hollered. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I quietly shut the door behind me. But I wasn’t quiet enough.
“
She’s
what’s wrong with me,” my mother pointed. My eyes widened as I looked from my mother's finger to Jonathan's disgusted stance, his hands on his hips. I opened my mouth in confusion, not understanding what I'd done to warrant the spiteful look on her face.
“This has nothing to do with Emma, so don’t even start.”
“Why do you keep calling her that?” she snapped. “Her name is
Emily
. And she's going to take you away too, just like him.” Her words cut into me like slicing barbs. I had no idea where the hostility was coming from, but it was incapacitating. I remained frozen, unable to find the words to soothe her or defend myself.
“You’re not making any sense,” Jonathan argued. “I’m not staying here to listen to this.” Jonathan walked toward the door.
I had nearly made it to the top step when more glass shattered in the kitchen.
“What the fuck, Rachel?!” Jonathan turned quickly at the sound. “You don’t throw a fit every time you don’t get your way.”
“Don’t leave,” she whimpered, followed by the sound of glass crunching.
“Don’t move,” he urged. “You’re stepping on glass.”
Jonathan disappeared into the kitchen and emerged carrying my mother in his arms, her head resting on his chest and her face slicked with tears.
“Will you stay?” she slurred. Jonathan didn’t answer, but continued up the stairs and into her room.
I exhaled, my chest tight from the tension that consumed the house. I considered following after him to help her into bed, but I couldn't bring myself to face her. Instead I crept down the stairs to investigate the mess. I stopped in the doorway, scanning the kitchen with a shake of my head. Trying to avoid the wine that covered most of the floor, I carefully stepped over the shards of broken glass and pieces of the wine bottle. As I reached for the broom, my phone rang.
I pulled it out to see Evan’s name displayed. I took a deep breath before answering, “Hi.”
“Hey. Got your text. Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” I replied, trying to sound as casual as possible. “My mother and Jonathan got into another fight, so I had to drive her home. She was overly dramatic as usual, so I had to listen to her go off for a while. Sorry I didn’t get to see you after the game.”
“Are you sure you're okay?”
"Yeah, I'm fine. She's about to go to bed now anyway, all talked out." My stomach turned at my lie. “Can I meet you at your place in a little bit? I’d really love to see you.” I wanted nothing more than to be released from the consuming emotions, and being in Evan's arms was exactly what I needed.
“Ah, I um,” Evan stumbled, a few voices hollered in the background as he stalled.
“Are you ready?” I heard a girl ask, sounding closer.
“Just a second,” he answered her. My heart skipped a beat, knowing exactly who she was. “I just, uh, promised Analise that I’d take her to Jeff’s party. It’s her first one and she doesn’t know many people yet. But I can see if she can go with someone else or something. Let me―”
“It's okay.” I tried to sound unaffected, despite the pain twisting in my chest. “You go. I'm pretty tired anyway.”
“Em, are you sure?”
“Yeah, I'm fine,” I said, swallowing against the tightness in my throat, forcing the emotion out of my voice. “It’s been a stupid night, and I’m really exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow?” My voice shook despite my efforts. I closed my eyes to fend off the tears.
“Okay,” he answered, and before he could say anything else, I hung up the phone. I stood in the middle of the kitchen with the broom in my hand, trying to breathe against the swelling in my chest.
I took a deep breath before opening my eyes, turning everything off until I felt nothing. Then I began sweeping up my mother’s fit.
“Let me help you.”
I turned to find Jonathan in the doorway. I didn’t answer as he filled the mop bucket with soap and water and began wiping the wine that was running down the cabinets. We remained silent while we cleaned.
After bringing the bag of broken glass outside to the trash, I collapsed on the second step in the foyer, covering my face in my hands with my elbows propped on my legs, emotionally drained. Jonathan shut off the kitchen light and sat next to me.
“What’s going to happen now?” I asked without looking up. “Did you end things with her?”
“I wasn’t about to do that in her condition,” he explained lowly. “I’m sorry you had to see any of that. It really wasn’t about you.”
I lifted my head. “I have no idea what happened tonight, but she was so... angry. I think she does blame me, but I don't know what I did.”
Jonathan shook his head in contradiction. “This is between me and Rachel. It has nothing to do with you.”
“But you are going to leave her now, aren't you?” I concluded dryly.
Jonathan was quiet for a moment. “Do you want me to stay?”
My eyes tightened, not sure how to answer. I didn't know exactly what he was asking.
“If I left right now, would it be worse for you... to live here?”
“Don’t worry about me,” I assured him without much conviction. “That wouldn’t be the right reason to stay anyway. It would only be worse in the end, for everyone. She’ll just have to get over you.”
“I’m sorry, Emma,” he offered in a hushed tone.
“Me too,” I breathed. He peered at me with sympathetic eyes, pulling me in. It took me a moment before I was able to break away. “I think I’ve had enough drama tonight, so I’m going to bed.”
“And I should go,” he responded, standing with me. I paused in my ascent when he opened the door.
“Good-bye, Jonathan.”
“I’m not leaving
you
, Emma,” he assured me. “If you ever need me, I’m here.”
“Thanks,” I answered, exhaustion heavy in my voice. I watched him disappear behind the closed door and continued to my room.
As I pulled the blankets over me, my phone beeped.
I’m coming over
appeared on the screen.
I’m in bed. I’ll see you in the morning,
I typed back.
10am, my house?
OK
.
I sunk under the blankets, not looking forward to seeing anyone in the morning―not even Evan.
22. Inside Out
I didn’t remember sleeping. But the next thing I knew, it was morning. It seemed unlikely that I made it through the night without a nightmare, especially since I was still exhausted when I pulled the covers back―but I couldn’t remember that either.
It was eerily quiet while I got ready, other than the house's occasional groans. There still wasn’t any movement when I shut the front door behind me. I sat in my car for a minute before starting it, gripping the steering wheel with my eyes fixed on the house like I was expecting it to tell me what to do―how to make everything better. It just remained still, staring back at me.
"Sure," I whispered, "now you're silent." I took a long drawn breath and started the car.
I pulled into the Mathews’ driveway to find more cars than usual. Along with Vivian and Evan’s BMWs and Stuart’s Mercedes were a black Lexus and a blue Prius. I parked in the middle of the long driveway, blocking them all in―figuring we’d be leaving as soon as Evan put on his jacket.
I knocked. No one answered. I knocked again and waited longer―still no one came to the door. I turned the knob and slowly let myself in, cautiously scanning the kitchen.
“Hello?” I called out, creeping further into the large kitchen. That’s when I heard laughter. I stopped to listen and then moved toward the voices―leading me down the hall.
One of the doors along the long hallway, a door that was always shut when I visited, was cracked open. I could hear the voices coming from inside. I recognized Evan’s.
“You are far from awkward,” he said.
“Believe me, he knows awkward,” Stuart teased with a light laugh.
“Dad!” Evan scorned, but with a playfulness in his voice. “She’s not awkward either.”
“She’s something else entirely,” Stuart chuckled.
“What do you mean?” she asked. Analise―of course.
I knocked. All conversation ceased as I became visible at the entrance.
“Hi.” I scanned each surprised face and noted the stacks of envelopes piled on the large conference table where they were sitting.
“Hi,” Evan acknowledged with a dazzling smile. “It’s ten?” I nodded. “Sorry. Lost track of time. Do you want to help? I promised my mother we’d stuff all of these envelopes before we left. We’re almost done.”
“Oh.” I glanced from Analise’s bright eyes to Stuart, who wouldn't look at me at all. “Um, I need to get my things together for the hike. I just kinda threw them in my car so I could get here. I'll meet you outside, if that’s okay.”
“Okay, sure,” Evan replied hesitantly. “I won’t be long.” I nodded and slowly walked away.
I’d obviously interrupted something, and I wasn’t about to ruin it with my
awkwardness
. I couldn’t believe I’d heard Stuart
laugh
. I’d never even seen him smile. I closed the kitchen door behind me, shutting out the voices and laughter with it.