Beyond Eighteen (35 page)

“
Ma…I—”

She held up her hand to stop me. “Maxi, do
what you feel is right. I’m just telling you how I felt when I was
your age. We go through life, fearing the judgment of others
because of the choices we’ve made, and when you reach my age, you
look back and wonder what the hell were you afraid of. I’ve lived a
lifetime with the choices your father and I have made. Stop
worrying about the judgment of others and start living your life
for yourself. In the end, the only thing that will matter is that
you did what was in your heart,” she said. Her eyes glistened and
her lips quivered. The muscles in her cheeks struggled to pull her
mouth into a smile as she tapped her hand across my chest, right
where my heart was both breaking and pounding at the same time.

I stood there for a moment, taking in every
word she said. With every blink that released the tears from her
eyelashes and every twitch of her mouth I realized just how much my
mom had lived. How, even through the pain of losing her husband,
she found a way to make me realize my happiness was important.

“
Thanks, Ma,” I said as I
leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll think about what you said,
I promise. I’d better get going. I love you,” I
whispered.

“
Oh, sweets, I love you
too,” she whispered back before I pulled out of her embrace and
walked out.

Funny how I’d lived my entire life judging
the choices of my parents and suddenly when I found myself facing
the same type of situation, their choices were the only tangible
experiences I could grasp.

~ Wilson ~

The morning sun filled the room, making a
promise that it would be a better day. It had to be, because in a
matter of three hours the night before, everything I’d believed
about my life had become something entirely different. Every
emotion I’d stuffed deep into my gut my whole life was pulled up,
dragged out, drudged through, reconsidered, and exposed. More
questions pummeled me in my sleep. Dreams of when I was little
twisted and snarled with fantasies of being raised by my
mom—visions of going to carnivals, birthday parties, and movies
tore through my mind. My throat was sore and my mouth drier than a
cotton field. My head pounded, promising me that it was only going
to start hurting worse if I didn’t find some Motrin quickly.

I sat up, expecting to see J still asleep
next to me, but she wasn’t. I could only imagine how crazy it was
for her last night too. She’d been right there with me my entire
life. She was the only person who knew everything about my life.
Now she truly is the only other person who knows what each letter
said, each promise Candi made, each life-altering event I was
supposed to have, each brick that was supposed to create my life
from the day I was born; bricks that were never used in building my
life.

I pushed the covers back and made my way to
the bathroom. I glanced at the closet. Everything looked normal.
Gramps’s sweaters were still stacked perfectly on his side of the
closet. No box, no letters spread about the cedar floor. It
looked…just as my grandfather left it. For a millisecond I thought
maybe last night had been a dream, until I saw the box on my
grandma’s dresser. J must have cleaned everything up after I fell
asleep. My lungs tightened against my ribs, tears swelled in my
eyes, and my heart clung to the ledge in the back of my throat. I
have the best friend in the world.

I headed downstairs. My feet were freezing.
I could hear J talking to someone on the phone and every couple of
seconds the crumpling of newspaper.

“I miss you too. I wish you could be here.
Maybe someday, it’s beautiful.”

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

“Oh, stop. Well,
you’re
pretty
handsome…I don’t know how long I’m going to be here. Nick, she
needs me…yeah, it was pretty heavy last night. She really has a lot
to process…No, he’s not here. Truthfully, I don’t know if he is
coming anytime soon. He’s dealing with some family stuff too.”

Really, I didn’t mean to overhear any of
that. I couldn’t go barging in right then. My heart was thundering
in my chest and my head was arguing with every muscle in my body,
telling them to move.

“I don’t think we are doing anything for New
Year’s tonight...well, that’s flattering but I don’t think that
would be a good idea…No, bad idea…WHAT? Are you serious? You did
not!” She stopped working on the stove and froze in a standing
position.

What? What the hell is he saying? What did
he do? I swear I didn’t mean to eavesdrop…

“Well, it’s totally romantic. But I have to
be here. Wilson needs me.”

That was my cue. I made sure to make enough
noise to alert her that I was coming. I shuffled past J and she
smiled at me as she continued to make a fire in the stove.

“Hey, Wilson just came in. I have to go…I
will talk to you later…alright, you too…bye.”

“You didn’t have to get off the phone
because of me.”

“No problem. You okay?”

“I’m not too bad. My head hurts, and I kept
having nightmares about Candi. Was that Nick?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she replied. I waited for her to say
more, but she didn’t.

“Well, it sounded like he…did
something…romantic, huh?”

“Naw, he just teased me about coming out
here,” she said in a casual tone.

J struck a match on the side of the stove
and started the newspaper on fire before she tossed the match into
the flames and closed the door, leaving a crack to let the oxygen
in. I could feel my shoulders tighten and every protective instinct
in me rear its head. I didn’t want to be jealous or even envious of
Joanie and Nick. I wanted her to be happy. But for some reason, if
Max wasn’t here for me, I didn’t want Nick here for her.
Is that
terrible?
God, I would never tell her that, even though she saw
every emotion flood my body.

“Don’t worry, Wilson, I don’t think he’ll
come out. He was just teasing me,” she huffed, trying to hide her
disappointment. “Besides, we need to find that deed.”

“Yeah, I guess we should do that,” I
answered slowly. J’s conversation with Nick still weighed on my
mind, especially the part about Max. I couldn’t help asking her
about it. “Do you really believe Max isn’t coming?”

J stood for a moment, tangled in her
thoughts of how to answer me. She shifted her weight back and forth
on the balls of her feet, trying to collect the right words to
use.

“Oh, honey, I don’t know…how. It just seems
like he’s taking care of some serious business; the kind of stuff
that can affect hundreds of people. It’s like real world, big deal
shit. Stuff you and I have no clue about…Maybe it wasn’t fair of me
to assume. I’m sorry if I upset you,” Joanie apologized before she
wrapped her arms around me. She often did that to defuse an
uncomfortable moment.

“You’re right. He’s drowning in his father’s
business. Besides, he told me three days…it hasn’t even been a full
twenty-four hours yet. I’m just sad because I wanted Max here with
us for New Year’s.”

“I know, sweetheart, but it won’t be long.
Let’s get through the meeting with your lawyers and we’ll figure
out the rest later. As a matter of fact, why don’t you try and make
an earlier appointment with the lawyers? That way it will give us
the rest of the day to hang out and celebrate New Year’s…just the
two of us.”

“Maybe we should find the deed first before
I call,” I suggested.

J stood up and looked around the house.
“Great idea, where do you want to start looking?” she asked.

“Well, in my grandfather’s desk,” I said as
she walked behind me to where it was sitting on the other side of
the room.

It was a humongous, dark brown, chunky desk
with eight matching drawers—four on either side and a large, wide,
shallow center drawer with two round, black metal handles on each
side. J took the left side I took the right. We looked for anything
that might resemble a deed…even though I’d never seen one in my
life.

Then it dawned on me—J got me off the topic
of Max. She was the world’s greatest subject changer. She could
single handedly get anyone off subject by using one word. It wasn’t
even a specific word. Any word she’d say would lead you off topic.
So instead of wasting time trying to get back, to talking about
Max, I just let it go.

It only took about fifteen minutes to find a
manila envelope labeled with my name in my grandpa’s handwriting.
Inside was the signed deed, a life insurance policy on both of my
grandparents, a declaration of homeowner’s insurance, his extra
check book, and a letter with my name written across the front of a
white legal-sized envelope with the flap folded under.

I felt every cell in my body betray me and I
couldn’t move. I don’t know if I could handle one more letter
written to me, even if it was from my grandpa. I took the deed out
and stuffed the rest back in the manila envelope before tossing it
on the desk. J didn’t ask. She knew I’d come back to it when I was
ready. I just wasn’t up for it at that particular moment.

“Okay, let’s call Dax Fuller and hope he
will take us this morning,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.

****

Sure enough, not only did my grandparents’
lawyer take us right away, but the meeting with him lasted only
forty-five minutes. It was actually quite lame. J drove me five
minutes across town to this little dark blue house with white trim.
There was a big white rectangular sign with the lawyers’ names in
black. It was right next to the cement walkway, stuck among the
drought-resistant, saltwater-loving, coastal succulents.

J and I pushed through the white
sea-spray–battered front door into the antiquated house. The floors
were covered in gray indoor/outdoor carpeting. The desks all
matched—light brown— hugged by cream-colored walls plastered with
accolades and certificates. Each desk was set back and separated by
cubicle walls that matched the gray carpeting. The front desk was
bare except for a small dieffenbachia soaking up the sun, a black
multi-lined phone, and a desk calendar used for making
appointments. Nobody sat waiting to greet us as we made our way in.
The small bell on the door jingled, warning Dax Fuller that we were
already here.

Mr. Fuller was an average-sized man with
snow gray hair slicked back and glistening from whatever he used to
hold it in place. His eyes were sunken just enough to cast a shadow
and exaggerate the dark rings under his eyes. His nose was too big
for his face, and the tip of it looked like it had suffered
constant exposure to the sun. He walked with a limp, or maybe just
an exaggerated swagger, and his arms seemed to swing like the
English soldiers you see on TV at Buckingham Palace. Maybe it was
the light gray suit he wore that made him look a little awkward in
his own skin.

Mr. Fuller invited J and me back to his
cubby. On his desk, my life described on paper was spread out and
facing me. I handed him the deed…he talked…I listened…he told me
where to sign…I did. And that was kind of it. We shook hands, and
without much excitement, we left forty-five minutes later, knowing
that the next time I walked into my grandparents’ house, it was
going to be mine. Legally.

J and I stopped at the grocery store on the
way back to the house and stocked up on enough food for the week.
By the time we got back it was lunchtime and J’s phone was blowing
up with text messages. She’d stop between shuffling bags of
groceries back and forth to reply to whoever was texting her, every
so often letting out a slight chuckle. I had to admit, even though
I assumed it was Nick, I was curious about the conversation she was
having.

“Who’s that?” I asked as she leaned against
the kitchen counter answering another text.

“Nick.”

“What’s so funny?” I asked as I put away the
groceries in the fridge.

“He keeps texting me different places I
should visit while I’m here. Places that you and I would never go,”
Joanie giggled just as another text came through.

“What type of places? Like thrift stores and
pawn shops, or touristy places?”

J was focused on answering him back before
she looked up at me. “No, like biker bars and strip clubs.”

Her phone chimed again and she read it out
loud: “Well, then I am on my way.” Joanie laughed as she typed back
a response.

“What did you say to him?” I asked with a
sense of urgency.

“Well, I told him the
only
way I
would end up in a strip club or biker bar is if he got his ass out
here and took me.”

I wanted to respond to her. I really wanted
to work at forgiving Nick and seeing my best friend happy, but
there still was this tiny, ugly monster that reared its head when I
thought about Nick and what he did to Max and me. I know people
need a second chance, and truthfully, I knew I was going to need to
give Nick one…just not right then. Besides, I was exhausted. Last
night was so intense, I didn’t sleep soundly with all the
nightmares that took over my mind and on top of that, the actual
act of going and signing all the papers, I just couldn’t find any
place on my body that wasn’t aching to curl up and sleep.

“I’m super tired, I think I’m just gonna
head upstairs and take a nap, especially if we are going to stay up
for New Year’s.” I folded the empty paper bags and shoved them into
the space between the cabinet and the side of the fridge.

“Good idea, I’ll make some lunch and bring
it up,” Joanie answered as she slipped her phone back into her
front pocket.

Out of habit, I pulled out my phone.
Why
hasn’t Max called or texted me yet?
I knew he had to work, but
I thought he’d find a moment to text me or something. I meandered
up the stairs and with every step I could feel myself become more
and more upset that I hadn’t heard from him. It wasn’t like I had
to talk to him every hour of the day, but come on, it was past noon
and there wasn’t even a text from him. No message or missed
call…nothing. As I reached the top of the stairs, I didn’t head for
my grandparents’ bedroom; instead I turned to the left and went
down the hall to my room.