Authors: Layla Harding
No, you’re not. You are wounded, but you will heal. And people love you. Love
you,
without any conditions. They just love you.
My little voice was back, and it was talking fast and furious. I wanted it to shut up. I didn’t want to hear it. It hurt. It was terrifying. I couldn’t take any more. I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to feel. I only wanted to sleep. And right before my brain turned off for the night, the little voice whispered,
we really do love you, sweet pea.
Graduation day dawned clear and bright. It was almost as if the powers that be took an active interest in the weather, painting the sky a brilliant blue, handcrafting perfectly puffed clouds, and drawing an intense yellow sun only rivaled by that in a child’s drawing.
James made breakfast, kept me on track and focus. I got distracted by the piano, text messages from Maggie, birds—basically I was a Chihuahua on crack cocaine. James alternated between laughing and scolding, and waiting on Ken. He seemed worn out from the night before, and we agreed staying in bed until it was time to leave for the ceremony was his best choice.
We didn’t talk again about Ken’s health. I don’t think he had told Ken that I knew, and I didn’t say anything either. Now that it was out there, the words were spoken and couldn’t be taken back, it was almost as if the worst had already happened. Like James said, there was nothing we could do but hope.
“Persephone! Maggie’s reception starts in fifteen minutes! Close the piano!” James bellowed from the kitchen.
“I like listening to her play! She has time to finish!” Ken bellowed from the bedroom, followed by a coughing fit that brought both of us to his door.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Go back and get me some juice. And Persephone, finish the song. It’s one of my favorites.” I looked at James and shrugged.
Who knew Ken was a Leonard Cohen fan?
James shrugged back.
“Are you sure you’re okay, buddy?”
“Yes, go, please.”
We both slowly backed out of the room, looking over our shoulders for a last check as we walked away. Ken waved us on.
“Go finish the song, sweet pea. Maggie will understand if you’re a few minutes late. I’ll get him some juice.”
“Okay.”
I started ‘Hallelujah’ from the beginning and then played ‘Everybody Knows’ for good measure. Ken was dozing by the time I was done and James was in the living room working on a crossword puzzle.
“I’m going to run on over to Maggie’s for a while. I’ll be back in about an hour then we can head over to campus.” Graduations were held at the massive arena on the college campus because the school gyms were too small to handle the graduates, much less the crowds of friends and family. Parking was a nightmare.
“Sounds good. Drive carefully. See you in a bit.”
“Bye, James.”
“Bye, sweet pea.”
Just as I suspected, Maggie’s street was full of Lexuses, BMWs, and Escalades when I pulled up, which meant the house was full of her mom’s friends and colleagues. I could only imagine the hell Maggie was experiencing. Or that I was about to. There was no way I was walking in there by myself.
I shot her a text. “Dude! I’m here! Come out and get me!”
A few minutes later, Maggie came flying out the front door, a frantic expression on her face. She started talking before the door had closed behind her.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know she invited her! She just got here! Persephone, please don’t leave! I know you don’t want to see her, but please! I need you!”
“Whoa, what are you talking about? Invited who? Who’s here?” I grabbed Maggie by the shoulders trying to get her to slow down and make some sense.
“Persephone, your mom is here. And I think she’s drunk. She was drunk when she got here, and now she and Mom are talking and drinking wine and it’s embarrassing! They’re so loud! Please, Persephone!”
Why, God? Why today? Why can’t I just have this
one
day?
Maggie kept tugging at my sleeve, pulling me towards the door.
“Maggie, let go. I’m coming. We’ll take care of this.” I pushed past her and shoved my way into the house. There were people everywhere, the formal living room, the foyer, the kitchen but it was the laughter, the too loud, desperate laughter of the drunk coming from the dining room that concerned me.
I saw her standing by the little table Maggie’s mom had set up as a bar, gesturing and talking, spilling wine over the side of her glass as she did. Maggie’s mom was cackling at whatever story Mom was telling.
Enough. I have had enough.
I grabbed her arm from behind. “Mother!”
“Persephone!” Everyone in the room turned at the sound of her screeching my name. “Honey! I was just asking Maggie when you would get here! And then I was telling Darla that I was so disappointed I didn’t get to do something like this for you, but you’re just not into this kind of thing! Remember when I tried to throw you a birthday party when you were five and you spent the whole time in your room?”
Yes, Mother, because even then I knew enough to know a mom shouldn’t be drunk at two in the afternoon.
“Darla, I had all of her little friends over, rented these little bouncy things, had a caterer, the whole nine yards!”
“Mother! Stop shouting!”
“Oh, Persephone, lighten up!” Maggie’s mom chastised me. “Your mom is just having fun. Us moms are just trying not to get too sad that our babies are leaving us! Martin! You’re here!” Maggie’s mom waved wildly at a man across the room. I looked at Maggie in time to catch the expression of horror on her face. I was caught between reining my mother in and figuring out what in the hell was wrong with my friend. I opted for the friend.
“Oh my God, Persephone. She met him at a bar last weekend. And he’s. At. My. Graduation. Party!”
“Maggie, it’s okay. Come with me. We’re leaving.”
“It’s my graduation party. I can’t just leave!”
“Why not? Do you know anyone here? Do you
like
anyone here?”
“Welllll…”
“Exactly. Come on. We’ll go hang out with Ken and James. You haven’t gotten a chance to meet James yet. We’ll get some food and you can ride with us over to graduation. Text your mom later. Come on.”
“You know? You’re right. Let’s go. Wait, my robe and cap. They’re up in my room.”
While I was waiting for her to get her things, Mom found me again.
“Persephone! Where have you been? You haven’t been home in ages! Your dad and I have been worried sick about you!”
“Mom, please, lower your voice,” I hissed.
“Don’t talk to me like that. How dare you? You know you are still a child, right? You are still my child, and I will not stand for this sort of behavior!” The room was growing quieter, people taking much more interest in whatever was going on between us than their own conversations.
“Mother! Please!”
“No, Persephone! I will not! This is inexcusable! I don’t care how grown up you think you are, I will not be treated like this! Like someone you can ignore and leave and throw away! I am your mother for God’s sake!”
I looked past her shoulder to see Maggie standing in the doorway. Her face was a mix of horror, embarrassment, and sympathy. She moved forward, and I motioned her to stay back.
“You have to stop this. This is not our home. This is Maggie’s party, and you’re—”
“You’re damn right this isn’t our home! You left our home, didn’t you? Left me alone!” She began to cry. Mom was not a pretty crier. Her make-up ran and her shoulders hitched. She gulped for air.
“Ladies, maybe you would be more comfortable discussing this outside?”
The man Maggie’s mom had invited from the bar was at my elbow. I turned on him. “What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?”
“Listen, little lady, no one talks to me like that.” He grabbed my arm.
“Don’t you touch my daughter! No one touches my daughter!” The irony of her statement was not lost on me as she drew back her hand to slap him. She missed and went tumbling to the floor, her wine glass shattering beside her.
“Oh my God! Can you believe this?” I couldn’t tell who’d said it, just as I couldn’t tell where the laughing began. All I knew was that I had to get her out of there.
“Come on, Mom. Let’s go. I’ll take you home.” I pulled her from the floor, and put my arm around her. Guiding her towards the door, I passed Maggie.
“I’m so sorry, Maggie.”
“It’s okay, Persephone. Really. I’ll see you at the Q, right? You’ll be there for the ceremony?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Just save my place in line, okay?”
“Absolutely. Just put her to bed and hurry over.”
“Yep.”
Maggie tried to hug me as I walked away. I leaned my head on her shoulder, almost losing my grip on my mom in the process. It seemed Maggie would never stop being a victim of my life.
The drive home was quick, but Mom passed out before we got there anyway. I half-carried, half-walked her into the house. She had forgotten to lock the front door.
“I’m glad you’re home, Persephone. This is where you belong,” she mumbled as I dropped her on the bed. “Your present is on the table.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I took off her shoes and covered her with the afghan that was at the end of the bed. She was snoring softly before I shut the door.
I wandered into the kitchen. There was a huge bag with “Congrats Graduate!” and balloons printed all over it. Brightly colored tissue paper spilled out the top. I was too exhausted to even look inside. What could she possibly give me that would matter now?
My phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Well, yes, ma’am, I was hopin’ to talk to Ken Austin, please.”
“James.”
“You comin’ home soon, sweet pea? We need to head over soon.”
“Yeah, I’m on my way. I just had to drop something off real quick. You guys ready?”
“Absolutely. Havin’ fun at Maggie’s?”
“Yeah. Lots of people. I’m heading home in just a minute. Just wrapping something up.”
“Okay, then. See you soon.”
“Yep.”
I found a notebook and pen in one of the junk drawers and sat down. How do you say goodbye to your mom? What do you say? I decided to keep it simple.
I love you. Bye, Mom.
It would have to be enough.
Ken and James were waiting in the living room when I got home. They were both dressed in gray suits and dark ties.
“You guys look so handsome!”
“Well, your girl only graduates from high school once.” James gave me a hug. Ken remained sitting but held my hand.
“You ready?”
“Yep. Let me grab my cap and gown, and we can go. Who’s driving?”
“I thought I would. You’ve been as jumpy as a toad in a fly swarm today.”
Well there’s a new one.
“Fair enough. Ken, are you sure you’re up for this?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kiddo. Now let’s get going.”
James helped him out the chair and followed close behind him on the way to the car. Ken seemed steady on his feet, but he also winced with each step.
“Hey, why don’t I drop you two off at the front door when we get there? I’m guessing parking is going to be hard to come by.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Ken, I can show you where to sit and then James can find you, okay?” We both knew Ken wouldn’t be able to make it from wherever James ended up parking into the arena. I was concerned about him making it from the front door.
“That sounds fine.”
It was a madhouse. There was a line of cars out front with the same idea we had. Cars honking, full of kids yelling at each other, cars full of parents yelling but for different reasons, people crossing the street in herds with no regard for crosswalks or vehicles. I almost had a panic attack just watching.
“Alright, out ya go. I’ll be there in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
I held out my arm for Ken to hold onto. He leaned on me more than he had in the past few days, and his breathing seemed to get more labored simply getting out of the car. I told myself it was my imagination. He was still up and around. He was fine.
“You don’t have to babysit me, Persephone. Go be with your friends. I can find a place to sit on my own.”
“You are my friend. And I’m fine. I want to make sure you get down in front so I can hear you yell when they call my name.”
“You bet.”
A few classmates caught us on the way in, laughing and chatting. Everyone was friends today, no matter what high school politics had dictated for the past four years. One of them asked if Ken was my grandpa. I smiled, and we kept walking.
I found him a place in the first couple of rows, as promised. I didn’t want him climbing steps or walking too far.
“I have to go into the holding area. Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to wait for James to get in here?”
“No, you go. I’m fine.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure! Stop hovering and get going!”
“Yes, sir.”
There were so many people in the large hallway where we were supposed to meet, I was afraid I would never find Maggie. We had been talking about walking together since we became friends. I couldn’t not find her.
“Persephone! Over here!” I saw a small hand reach above the crowd, followed by the top of her bleach-blonde head bouncing up and down as she jumped, trying to get my attention. I pushed my way over to her.
“Here, let me put your cap on for you. Everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah. I put Mom to bed. I don’t think I will see her again today. I’m really sorry, Maggie. That was so horrible. I don’t know how I can ever make that up to you.”
“Hey, it’s no biggie. It will be a great story to tell when we’re fifty!” She grinned, and I knew she didn’t blame me. I wanted to hug her but felt awkward with so many people around.
A teacher started talking over a bullhorn, giving us last minute instructions. We were to write our names on the little cards they handed to us, then give them to the announcer when it was time for us to walk across the stage. And no funny business writing a celebrity’s name or bad words. Punishment would be severe. We all looked at each other with the who-me expression teenagers are notorious for. The thought had never even crossed our minds. Riiiight.