The Beginning

Mrs. Dalby was waiting for me in the front yard. Sarah was standing in front of her, arms in the air, hips circling rapidly, spinning a Hula-Hoop around her tiny waist. We got out of the car; Raelyn and Sophie ran to greet Sarah.

“Jane, I have some great news,” Mrs. Dalby said. She held a folded paper out to me. “I took the liberty of sending a selection of your poems and essays to the California Institute of the Arts. My friend works in admissions there and she has been known to grant early admission to exceptional students. I wrote to her recommending you, sent her your writing, and let her know you have always made good grades, and that you would be happy to send your transcripts should she be interested. Well, she is! This is the letter I received from her today. You’re all but accepted, Jane. You just need to fill in the application and send it in with your transcripts. There are applications for scholarships and funding in here as well, which you will definitely qualify for.” Her face was flushed. I felt Gram standing behind me.

“When does she leave?” Gram asked. I turned to face her.

“You want me to go?

“I’m telling you to go!”

“What about Sophie and Rae?” I looked at them, doing Hula-Hoop contests with Sarah in the yard.

“They’ll be fine here with me. Your mom will be home in a few weeks.” Mrs. Dalby thrust the letter into my side. I folded it and put it in my back pocket.

“When will I have to leave? How will I get there?” I asked.

“I’ll buy you a ticket.” Gram said.

“You’ll leave in a few weeks; you’ll have to send in your paperwork right away,” Mrs. Dalby said.

“But we have to move, we have to pack.” I turned to Gram.

“No, we don’t. Your mom called Jake an’ talked ‘im into bringin’ the rent here current. He paid. But he couldn’t keep you girls in that school. Turns out your girlfriend’s dad complained to Father John. He called me an’ told me somethin’ about havin’ to put you both back on the waiting list, the permanent waiting list,” she said.

“What did he say about Stacy?” My face burned red.

“That her father influenced his decision and that she would be going to a boarding school in Tennessee,” she said. I felt dizzy. I had to talk to her.

I took a bus and the train and walked seven blocks to her house. I stood on the street and watched. No cars were in the driveway, no movement in the windows. I walked around to the back of the house and stared up at her bedroom window on the second floor. I considered leaving and coming back later, when I could hide in darkness. I thought about going to that coffee shop, our coffee shop. Maybe she would be there.

A row of tall evergreen trees lined the back yard. I climbed under the two with the lowest branches, providing perfect cover. I had a good view of her window and I would be able to wait until she came home, watch for her bedroom light to turn on. I crouched until my legs went numb, then I sat back and stretched them out in front of me. Feeling slowly began to seep back in; a million little invisible needles pricked and pricked the skin. I never took my eyes off of her window.

I remembered that moment she talked about when we were kids. I remembered the strange feeling that came over me when she took her clothes off, how I didn’t know what that was. I thought about going to school in California, Stacy going to school in Tennessee. I thought about my mom. The weeping apology. I thought about her frailty, the feeling of holding her in my arms when she was broken. I had never seen her come apart before, not even when my dad died. I pulled my legs under to sit on my heels; my knees and toes pressed against the earth, hard, dry pine needles poking through the fabric of my jeans. I clasped my hands together and bowed my head.

I’m not sure if I prayed. I know I thought about my mom, I wished that she would get better, that she would somehow be OK. What I remember the most is my posture, the smell of pine, and the sound of the wind from under the branches. When I opened my eyes, the sky was dark and the light was on. I scrambled to my feet and toward the back of the house. I saw a figure moving through the glass sliding doors of the kitchen and ducked. I looked up at her window and saw her shadow against the walls. My heart beat faster. I looked around for something to throw. Desperate, I raked my fingers against the ground and picked up a clump of grass and dirt. I threw it into the air toward her window where it arced down, way short of its target. I broke off a long branch from the evergreen tree that had been my shelter. Carefully I approached the back of the house. I reached up and tapped on the window with the tip of the branch.

A face appeared in the window. It was Stacy’s dad. I threw the branch and ran.

The morning I left for California was the morning after my mom came home from treatment. Raelyn and Sophie wanted to make her a cake but she insisted on no fanfare. We should act as if it were any other day. Gram made dinner and we all ate together. She was so quiet at the table, almost nervous. She even looked different. Her hair was down and brushed out. Her eyes were clearer than any of us had ever seen them. Her face was relaxed and thin. After dinner she left. Said she had to go to a meeting. Sophie and Raelyn were fine; they watched TV and ate ice cream for dessert. I didn’t believe her. Why would she have to leave on her first night home from treatment to go to a meeting? I asked Gram.

“She has to go to a meeting every day; they told ‘er so,” Gram said, hours after she left. “She’ll be home soon; you’ll see.”

“Why would she be gone this long if she went to a meeting? How long is a meeting? Doesn’t she know I’m leaving in the morning?” I asked.

“Who’s she meeting with?” Sophie asked.

“It’s an AA meeting,” I said. Raelyn was asleep across Sophie’s lap. They were on the couch. “Let’s go to bed; we’ll see Mom in the morning.”

“When’ll she be home?” Sophie asked.

“Soon, Honey,” Gram said. She walked into the kitchen mumbling, “She better be here soon.”

I stayed up as long as I could to listen for her. After an hour or so, I gave up hope and fell asleep.


The next morning I woke up to Sophie and Raelyn screaming from the living room. I leaped from my bed and ran. It was a Christmas tree, complete with lights and ornaments. Packages with our names on them were beneath and around it. Three stockings hung on the wall next to it, stuffed with candy.
“That’s for you” Sophie pointed to an envelope perched on a branch with Jane written across the front in my mother’s hand. I took the envelope back to my room and laid it on my bed while I packed. I heard my mom get up and go to the living room. I heard Gram joining them. I smelled coffee brewing and breakfast cooking, eggs and bacon. I heard their voices coming from the living room, laughing and talking. When I finished packing I sat down on my bed and opened the envelope.