Page 35 of The Last to Let Go
She was quiet—I wondered if she was crying. I heard a click on the line. And she said she had to go.
“I love you, Mom—everything’s going to work out. You’ll see, okay?”
“I love you, too.”
Dial tone.
I feel like I’ve been dragging a hundred-pound shadow behind me all day.
Aaron and Ray sit next to each other at the counter, talking, their voices low. I’m purposely wiping down only the tables within earshot of where they’re sitting so I can eavesdrop on their conversation. I glance over at Callie, who sits alone at a table for two in the corner with her legs pulled up to her chest. She’s pretending to do homework, with her books open in front of her, but all she’s really doing is staring out the window at the park across the street.
I remember what Dr. Greenberg said about people needing space. Maybe he wasn’t so wrong about that one.
From what I’ve gathered, Ray wants to help Aaron get a job at his company. Sounds like it would be a sweet gig for Aaron. Full-time with benefits, holidays, sick time. Arealjob—a grown-up job. This would be perfect. But perfect means pressure, means getting our hopes up; it means there’s a good chance this won’t work, because if there’s one thing Aaron’s not good at dealing with, it’s pressure.
“You know, the boss is doing a big hiring in the next couple months,” Ray tells Aaron, then takes a sip of his coffee. “Getting ready for the holidays. Supposed to be one of the busiest years. Or so they say,” he tells him with a shrug. Ray is such adad. I find myself smiling at him in spite of myself. He’s the kind of dad I always dreamed about, the kind of dad I used to imagine was trapped somewhere deep inside of ours. Jackie appears then, walking over to them with a freshly brewed pot of coffee. She fills Ray’s cup up to the top without even asking if he wants more. I guess that’s the kind of thing you just know about someone when you’ve been married for so long.
“Yeah, but a place like that... I would need to get my GED to even get an interview, wouldn’t I?” Aaron asks, prepared to pull out every excuse not to take advantage of this help we’re being offered. Dad’s social security benefits help a lot, but it still isn’t nearly enough. We’re struggling. And every day that passes, the bills keep piling higher and higher. I’m making only enough at Jackie’s to cover some of the utilities. I want to yell at Aaron, shake some sense into him—Do whatever you have to do, just try—but I bite my tongue, focusing hard on the coffee-stain rings that seem to be permanently fused to the surface of the table I’m working on.
“I know you’ll think I’m meddling, Aaron,” Jackie begins, the coffeepot hovering over his cup. It seems like he’s practically living off coffee and cigarettes these days.
“That’s because youare, dear,” Ray interjects, patting Aaron on the shoulder as he stands. He wanders toward the door like he’s not in much of a hurry to get wherever he’s going.
“Well, too bad, so sad!” Jackie pretends to yell at Ray’s back as he leaves.
He raises an arm in the air, but it’s unclear whether he’s shooing her or waving good-bye—either way, it somehow manages to be a loving gesture. The bell on the door dings as he opens it. “Bye, girls,” he calls out. “See ya, Owen,” he says just before the door swings closed.
“All right,” Jackie admits, “I am meddling—I’m a meddler. Here’s the thing,” I hear her tell Aaron. “I signed you up to take the GED at the Adult Ed Center.” She pulls a folded piece of paper from her apron pocket and slides it across the counter. “That has the dates and times of the tests. You be there. I mean it.” She points a stern finger at him, like a warning.
“Yeah, but—” he starts to protest.
“Dude, I’d listen to the lady,” Owen mumbles, pushing a mop across the tile floor as he moves in between us. He looks up at me with a grin and then raises his eyebrow in this mischievous way, like we’re suddenly the best of friends. “She’ll hunt you down if you disobey—she’s the Godmother,” he says, pretending to whisper in Aaron’s ear, but talking more than loud enough for Jackie to hear.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jackie mumbles, her voice flat and monotone. “Get outta here,” she teases as she swats at him with her hand. “Hey, where’s your hat?”
“See what I mean?” he says, looking back and forth between me and Aaron, pointing a thumb at her as he pulls his folded-in-halfJACKIE’Shat out of his back pocket. “Vicious.”
“Little punk,” Jackie mutters. Then she refocuses her attention on Aaron and sighs. “Good kid. Like you.”
“Jackie, look,” Aaron begins. “I appreciate what you and Ray are trying to do, but—”
“But what?” she interrupts. “You’d rather do things the hardest way possible? Rather do it all alone? Struggle? You’re stubborn.” She points her finger again. “Just like your...” But she stops herself from finishing.
I feel my blood getting hot on Aaron’s behalf, almost like I can feel his blood inside of me, simmering. “I’m not like him,” he finally tells her, a tiny tremble in his voice that I’m pretty sure no one else can hear but me.
“No—no, Aaron.” She places her hand on his arm and squeezes gently. “It wasn’t an insult. Your father was... a complicated man. Not all bad. Not all good. You know? Just like the rest of us.”
He shakes his head, looks down into the bottom of his coffee cup.
“So, what is it, then?” she asks him. “You think you can’t pass the exam, is that right?”
He turns around, as if he can feel me listening. I look away.
“Huh?” she prompts, shaking his arm like a little earthquake.
“Yeah, maybe,” he admits, so quietly I almost can’t hear him. “So?”
“So... you’re wrong. You’ll study. You’re a smart boy.”
