To Know Me (The Complete Series, Books 1-4) Page 8

  When I get back, Mom is sitting on the back porch reading.

  “I’m ready to go,” I announce.

  “Good.” She doesn’t get up.

  “What is it, Mom? Just say it.”

  “It wasn’t easy.”

  “What wasn’t easy?” I ask.

  “You running away.” I sigh. I should have known this talk was coming. “I was a mess when you left, but let’s be honest. I was a mess when you were here, too. You had far too many responsibilities. With you gone, it forced me to face my demons.”

  “Therapy. I know,” I say.

  “I knew I’d made a terrible, terrible mistake letting you leave. We needed to get help together, and I failed you. I’m sorry, Macy.”

  “Geez, Mom. That was a long time ago. You don’t owe me an apology. You gave me everything I wanted, my freedom to leave, to live without fear of making a decision that could get you or Sarah killed.”

  “But, Macy, that’s the craziest logic in the world. And when I started talking through my feelings, I realized what a horrible mistake I made letting you leave, so I…I had you followed.”

  “What?”

  “Not all the time. Knowing where you were living, if you were in school, if you were safe. I had to know.” I sit down on the chair across from my mom, trying to process what she is telling me.

  “If I’d found out….”

  “I know. You’d have thrown out your phone, changed your name again, and disappeared for good.”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “You immersed yourself in your new town pretty darn well. When I found out you were in Woodson I called off the private investigator. I thought maybe you were considering coming home, and I couldn’t chance you finding out you were being followed.”

  “Wow.”

  “You can be as pissed as you want to be, Macy. You need to understand something, though. I’m not letting you run away anymore. Yes, you’ll go to college someday; but while you are under my care, you’re going to face your problems and deal with them. With me. Together.”

  She’s right. I should be pissed. How dare she have me followed? But, honestly, can I blame her? All those times I felt like I was alone, in a weird way, I wasn’t. She was with me, watching out for me, making sure I was safe. Oh, God, I’ve messed up so bad. But she’s forgiven me. Shouldn’t I forgive myself? So instead of storming off in anger, I reach out to my mom and hug her. She hugs me back. It’s good to be home.

  I help Mom load the boxes of my things into her car. I don’t have much I want to keep, just personal stuff like clothes and books and pictures that have traveled with me around the country the last year. It seems surreal that I am finally done running. I can’t say I’m going to miss that pit in the stomach I feel every time I start fresh in a new town.

  “What should we do with the furniture?” I ask Mom.

  “There’s not much, is there?”

  “Just a coffee table, a lamp, a bookshelf, a couch, and a mattress I picked up at Goodwill.”

  “Why don’t you call Goodwill to see if they can pick the stuff up? If not, we can leave the things outside for them to get later. I don’t really want to stick around all day.”

  “What about a halfway house?” I ask.

  “I suppose that would work. Are there any in the area?”

  “Um, right across the street, I think. Ty told me his Mom is on some committee that’s been collecting donations for new halfway houses that have come to town. There’re a lot of women living across the street. I think that may be one of those houses.”

  “I can go ask,” says Mom.

  “No, let me do it. Can you go grab some sandwiches before we leave? I’m starving.”

  “Sounds good.” She pauses and looks at me.

  “What?” I ask feeling self-conscious.

  “You’ve grown up a lot,” she says.

  I smile. “I guess I have.”

  I knock softly on the door across the street. I wonder what I’ll say if I’m wrong. Maybe it’s an all-female mafia, and I’ll be witness to some crime preparations, and they’ll have to kill me to shut me up. I shudder. By the time I turn to run back to the apartment, the door opens.

  “May I help you?” asks a 40-something-year-old woman. She has a kind smile that puts me more at ease.

  “Uh…I…I…was hoping I could help you.”

  “Are you from Woodson Charities?” asks the woman.

  “No, but I…I…uh…I live across the street. I’m moving, but I can’t take all my furniture with me. I was wondering if you’d like to have it for your…your…” I must sound like a complete idiot.

  “Halfway house?” finishes the woman. I nod my head.

  “That is very kind of you. I’ll get some of the ladies to help you move it over.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Come on in a minute.” I step inside to the foyer. The place looks nice. There are large photographs on the walls of nature, bright blooming flowers, thick forests, rushing rapids. Classical music is coming from a back room. It’s all very relaxing. I guess that’s what these women need as they transition from prison back to the real world. Maybe if they had come from a calming environment like this one they wouldn’t have gone to prison in the first place.

  “Patsy will be down in a minute,” says the woman returning. “She’ll help you with the furniture. I have a business call coming soon. If you need more help, you’ll have to wait a bit.”

  “No, we’ll be fine. Thanks.” She leaves. I hear footsteps on the stairs. What I see coming down to meet me is a surprise to say the least. In fact, as soon as she sees me, she starts backing up the stairs. “Wait!” I say. “Don’t go.”

  “Look. I don’t need any trouble. I’m getting my life back on track. I don’t need your money. I don’t want you money. Just leave. Please.” She’s shaking, but not like from drug withdrawl like she did when I first met her a month ago.

  “It’s okay,” I say softly. “You don’t understand. I had no idea you were here. I mean no harm. I live across the street. I’m leaving. I’m…going back home and donating some of the furniture from my apartment.” She still stands on the stairs, deciding whether or not to believe me.

  “I gave you money. Right? I didn’t screw you over before. You have to believe me.”

  “I’ll help you,” says Patsy. “but please don’t…” I reach out to touch her arm. She winces as if my touch causes her pain.

  “I won’t tell anyone about our…our arrangement,” I say.

  It doesn’t take long to move over the small amount of furniture I’d collected. Patsy remains quiet. I think about what Ty said once, how everyone has a story. We put the coffee table in a bedroom upstairs. It must belong to Patsy because she sits on a bed and pulls her knees up to her chin. I think she’s waiting for me to leave.

  “Thanks for your help,” I say. She nods her head. “Patsy, I saw your picture in the paper. I know it’s none of my business, but I know you went to jail. I’m, well, I’m really happy to see you here now. You’ve probably had a tough life.”

  “You have no idea.” It’s the first time she’s talked since she agreed to help me. I feel very sorry for her. She grabs the Bible from under her pillow and takes out what looks like a picture. It is tattered on the edges like it’s been clutched tightly by its owner.

  “Can I see your picture?” I feel like she needs to tell me something. She hands it to me.

  “It’s my son.” The child is celebrating a birthday, surrounded by balloons and streamers. There’s a cake saying, Happy birthday, Tyson. He’s grinning from ear-to-ear.

  “He’s beautiful,” I say. “Do you see him often?” Tears fall from her eyes.

  “They took him away from me when I went to jail.”

  “Just now?” I ask. “That must be awful. Will you get him back?”

  “No, no,” she says shaking her head. “The first time I went to jail they took him away.”

  “Oh. For drugs then, too?” I as
k.

  “For murder. I killed his father.” I feel the energy sucked out of the room. I put my hand over my heart to steady my breathing. I look at the picture again, the beaming wide smile suddenly jumping out at me. “He beat me. It was self-defense. I served a few years, but in prison the drugs took over. Sometimes the demons come back. I’m trying to make things better now. Margaret, that’s the woman you just met, she got me signed up for job training. I even have an interview next week for a temp. position in an office. Can you imagine me working in a real office? Maybe there’s hope after all.” I feel compelled to give this woman some motivation to fix her life. I don’t know if it will work. It might cause more harm than good. And what if I’m wrong?

  She reaches back for the picture. I give it to her.

  “Patsy, how old would your son be now?”

  “Turned eighteen in February.”

  “Patsy…I think I know your son.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t promise that he’ll want to see you.”

  “Is he safe? Is he happy?”

  “Oh, yes, yes. He’s with a great family. He’s a good student, nice guy, and very handsome.” I can’t help but smile when I think about Ty. She reaches out and grabs ahold of my wrist.

  “At school, right? That was him in the office that day I went to school with you.” I shake my head yes. “I knew it.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “Yes, yes, I understand. Just…just knowing he’s happy and safe and loved. That’s worth more than you could ever know.”

  “I need to get back to my mom,” I say. She raises her eyebrow. “My real Mom.”

  “Are you happy?” The question surprises me.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Don’t miss those opportunities to be happy. You never know when they’ll be stolen away from you.”

  “Goodbye, Patsy.”

  Mom is sitting at a picnic table next to the parking lot of my apartment building.

  “There you are,” she says. “I was just about to come looking for you. Here’s your burger. It’s probably cold.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Why the look on your face?” she asks.

  “Thinking about something.”

  “Care to share?” she asks.

  “It’s a long story, Mom.”

  “I have the time, Macy.” I give Mom an impromptu hug. She seems surprised because at first she’s tense. Then she relaxes. “That was a nice surprise.”

  “Do you mind if we make a stop before going home?”

  “Of course not. That’s fine with me.”

  “The problem is…it’s something I need to do alone.”

  “Drop me off at the Woodson Mall. I’ve always wanted to go.”

  “You sure?” Every time this woman is kind to me I feel that much guiltier for running away.

  “Of course.”

  I don’t even know if he’s home. I drive my car down his perfect driveway to his perfect estate. I no longer think of Ty as having the perfect life, though. Yet, he’s not used his biological parents’ faults as an excuse to be unhappy. Sometimes all you need in life is someone to love you and tell you you’re worth it. That’s what Ty’s adopted parents did for him. That’s what Ty tried to do for me. I pushed him away because of my own insecurities and doubts. I want nothing more than to hug him and never let go. I don’t know if I’ve missed that window of opportunity, though. Maybe it’s closed. If not for me, I have to try for Patsy. She deserves a chance to see Ty if he’s still willing. I channel Scarlett O’Hara and resolve to see this through even if I’m not welcome in Ty’s home. Up and leaving with no good-bye doesn’t sit well with anyone here, I imagine.

  I ring the doorbell. No one answers. I ring it again. I call out in case anyone is in the garden. No one is home. I think about leaving a note, but what would I say?

  Dear Ty,

  I know I ran out on you with no explanation, but I found your real Mom, and nothing would make her happier than meeting you.

  Love,

  Macy…I mean, Mae

  I start back toward my car, when I hear his voice.

  “What are you doing here?” Ty yells from the direction of the trail that leads to the dock.

  “I need to talk to you,” I say.

  “That’s funny because I thought you handled your problems by running away.”

  “I’m not here to talk about me. I have some information for you. I’m here to help my friend.”

  “I sure as hell don’t think you mean me.”

  “That’s kind of harsh.” Now I feel like Scarlett getting an old-fashioned tongue-lashing from Rhett Butler.

  “I’ve got state finals in the 800 meter next weekend. I don’t need any more drama. I’m still recovering from our accident.” I can’t believe I forgot to ask.

  “How are you?”

  “Like you care.”

  “Look, dammit, I do care. That’s why I left.” Now it’s my turn to yell. “I realize you find that kind of thinking completely irrational. I don’t disagree and have made plans to work on my thinking, but I do care. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Ty is silent. He stands next to his front door now, hands on his hips, glaring at me. I almost wish he’d yell again. It’s like when you’re a little kid and your parent punishes you one time. But the next, he just looks at you disapprovingly and tells you how disappointed he is in you. Yeah. Sometimes the yelling is better. He puts his hand on the door to go inside, without me. “Wait! I…I found your mom. And she wants to meet you.”

  “Is this some kind of joke” He doesn’t even turn around, his back facing me.

  “I wouldn’t joke about something like that.” Then he opens the door and goes inside, leaving me alone.

  Now I know what it’s like to be abandoned.

  Chapter 12:

  Living at home again isn’t easy. There are reminders everywhere of what once was. The fleece throw blanket that Laura made Dad lies on his easy chair. Actually, she made everyone a fleece blanket the Christmas she was eight, each tailored to its recipient. Mom got a blanket with flowers. She gave me a blanket with tiny pairs of shoes. I think her intent was that they looked like running shoes. I didn’t have the heart to tell her they were really baby booties. Dad’s blanket on the chair is covered with footballs. Grandma’s recipe box sits on the kitchen counter, ready for one of us to copy from, but neither of us can. It’s the family pictures, though, that follow me along the hall to my room, kicking me in the gut with the reality that no more memories can be added. That hurt the most.

  Being alone during the day while Mom’s at work is the hardest part. I study for the GED or read or go for a run. When she’s home, it’s better. She seems happy that I am home. I’ve gone to therapy with her a couple of times. It feels good to talk. Next week I start private sessions.

  Ty continues to ignore my texts. I feel like I owe it to Patsy to make this meeting happen. She deserves a little bit of joy in her life, but part of me can’t help but wonder if I’m using her as an excuse to keep communication with Ty for myself. I miss him so much. Carmen sends me texts. She says Ty does nothing but focus on his state meet. He eats alone and listens to his iPod so no one can talk to him. Then he goes to track practice after school. He doesn’t hang out at the beach anymore. I have to at least tell him about Patsy and the halfway house. Then he can decide himself what to do from there. I’ll stay out of it. I’ll stay out of his life, if that’s what he wants.

  Today is the state track meet. It’s two hours away, and Sarah is riding with me. I told her everything about Ty and Patsy and my feelings for Ty. It was her idea, actually, to talk to him after the race. I won’t talk to him before, of course. I’m not here to upset him, just to give him information. I’ll find the right time to talk to him. I have to.

  “So with Daniel going to State and me going to University of Illinois, I don’t know how we’re going to make it. That’s like two hours away, and neither of us will have a car. Do you t
hink we should break up?” Sarah asks as we ride to the track meet in my car.

  “I don’t know. I guess what strikes me the most is that you would even ask this question. I mean, if you were really that in to Daniel would you even consider breaking things off?”

  “Hmmm, you’re right. There is this guy I met when going to freshman orientation. I didn’t even get his name, but damn he was so hot. It made me feel like I was cheating on Daniel just thinking about him that way.”

  “How do you think Daniel will feel?”

  “Pissed.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that then.”

  “Thanks. Not.”

  I’m happy for the mindless chatter because I start to get nervous as we approach the track meet. My plan is to sit high up in the bleachers so Ty doesn’t see me.

  Everything is going according to plan until I spot Ty’s parents sitting ten rows or so in front of me. Mr. Barber has his arm around his wife. I wonder if they know what I told Ty. Would they even welcome a visit from Ty’s biological mother? What if I’ve made a horrible mistake? What if seeing Patsy will screw things up instead of help them?

  “I’ll be right back,” I say to Sarah. She could hardly care. She’s been flirting with the guys around her since we arrived.

  I excuse myself trying to bump into as few people as possible.

  “Mrs. Barber?” She turns around. I motion to the small space next to her.

  “Mae, what a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “No, not at all.” I squeeze into the seat no doubt angering the young lady sitting on the other side of me.

  “Sorry,” I mouth to her.

  “Does Ty know you’re here?” asks Mrs. Barber.

  “Oh, gosh no. I don’t want to upset him.”

  “I suppose that’s wise, but I think he’d like to see you after his race.”

  “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I have…I have some information to tell him.”