Page 231 of Releasing 10
As for friends and family, the bustle of coddling was a short-lived experience. After a while they stopped coming around.
Not the boy on the other line, though.
That boy came every day without fail.
“Thanks, Hugh,” I finally managed to squeeze out when my voice found me once more. “For everything.”
LUSTFUL LOOKS AND HOVERING MOTHERS
Hugh
JUNE 30, 2000
IT TOOK A HERCULEAN EFFORT ON MY PART TO PERSUADEMAM TO LET ME STAY ATOld Hall House for the summer. I went into negotiations armed and ready with receipts in the form of countless awards for athletics, academics, and good behavior. The proof was in the paperwork, and I pulled out every dirty trick in the book to bend her will.
The fact that I was, by far, her most responsible child and had never given her so much as a whisper of trouble in almost thirteen years—unlike a certain curly-haired, demon wild child and her equally wild, equally curly-haired sidekick—didn’t hurt my cause either.
The killer blow to her argument came when I reminded her that she had no qualms about allowing Gibsie to stay with Claire formonthsafter Joe and Beth died.
The moment those words came out of my mouth, I knew I had her over a barrel. Mam couldn’t deny the truth, and she couldn’t forbid me from offering theexactsame comfort to Lizzie without displaying favoritism. I knew no such favoritism existed in my mother’s heart, but I wasn’t above emotional blackmail. Not if it got me back to her.
In the end, and after astrainedphone call with Catherine, Mam agreed—albeit reluctantly—to a two-week stay, with strict stipulations that included me sleeping in the guest room and coming home every second day for dinner. While I had zerointentions of following through on Mam’s terms, I accepted the deal because it was a start, and asking for forgiveness was a lot more favorable than asking for permission in this instance.
The following morning, when I was finishing up packing, with my mother hovering anxiously in my bedroom doorway, she decided to try a manipulation tactic of her own.
“Hugh, do you think it’s sensible to spend this much time alone together?” Mam asked, worrying her lip. “Surely this cocoon you’ve built around yourselves isn’t healthy.”
“Funny, because I didn’t hear that argument when Gibsie practically lived in Claire’s room for six months after Joe and Beth died,” I replied, glancing over my shoulder. “Or when Dad holed himself up in the fucking attic five years ago and forgot to come out.”
“Hugh!”
“Sorry,” I forced myself to say, even though I wasn’t.
The truth hurts, Mam.
“Listen, all I’m trying to make you see is that staying at Old Hall House isn’t something I’m comfortable with.”
“Why not?”
“Because of the feelings involved,” she explained with a sigh. “Because of the way you look at Lizzie.”
“How do I look at her, Mam?” I tossed back, busying myself filling my bag with enough clothes to last the summer.
“Withlust, Hugh.”
“Lust,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, okay, Mam.”
“I’m serious, son,” Mam argued sternly. “I’m not blind and I’m far from stupid. Don’t you think I know what’s happening to your body at this age? It’s frighteningly obvious that puberty has set in, and you’ll be heading off to secondary school in a couple of months, which will only exacerbate matters.” She blew out another pained breath. “Things are changing, Hugh, and rules need to change, too.”
“How is the way I look at Liz any different to the way Gibs looks at Claire?” I protested, spinning around to glare at my mother. “Well? The whole world knows those two are obsessed with each other and yet you have no problem allowing him to sleep over.”
“Oh please.” Now Mam was the one to roll her eyes. “Those two are children, Hugh.”
“And what am I?” I demanded, pointing to myself. “A geriatric?”
“You were born old,” Mam quipped, lips tipping upward. “Even as a toddler, your dad used to say there was a cranky, old pensioner trapped inside of you.”
“Wow,” I deadpanned. “How flattering.”
