Page 55 of When the Night is Over

She rolls her eyes. “You act like we’d be moving to Bora Bora. We would go home for weekends and school breaks. We’d spend the summers back up north. I already talked it over with Lawrence, and not that his opinion would dictate my decision, but he’s fine with it.”

“You’ve already discussed this with Lawrence?” When Janelle looks over to Mrs. Ryan for the save, I know I’ve been left in the dark. “Seems like you two have it all figured out, but I need a little time to think this through.”

“Of course!” they say in unison.

A nurse comes out and calls Ethan’s name. As I gather his things, purposefully avoiding any further discussion on the matter, Mrs. Ryan chirps, “Time waits for no man, Charlotte Mason. Carpe diem!”

Ethan sits in his high chair, ignoring me as he focuses on feeding himself the bits of cereal on his tray. I lean over to kiss his forehead. “Wish me luck, little fella.”

“Got your number two pencils?”

“Check, Janelle.”

“Graphing calculator?”

“Got it.”

“Admissions ticket for the test? Identification?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Good luck, sweetheart.”

I walk over and hug her tight. “Thank you. Really, Janelle, thank you so much.”

It’s a total long shot. Even if I do ace the exam—and that’s unlikely given that I’ve pretty much taught myself Algebra Two and the very basics of Calculus from outdated textbooks—my application has more holes in it than the ozone layer. I don’t have any teacher recommendations, having not finished a full year at this high school. My one and only recommendation is from Mrs. Ryan, who knows squat in terms of my scholastic aptitude aside from what she saw on those old transcripts from Pennsylvania. And I’m applying with a GED instead of a high school diploma. My essay is pretty solid, if you ask me, but my answer to the question:What obstacles have you encountered in life and how have you learned to overcome them?underscores the fact that I am a teenage mother. I don’t know what the admission committee’s opinion on that will be.

But even with the uphill climb I’m facing, I’ll admit, something old but familiar has been sparking to life inside of me. Opportunity is knocking, and while caring for Ethan fills me with a sense of joy, this is different. For the first time in a long while, I’m excited about the idea of me.

Walking back over to my son to give him one more quick kiss, I whisper, “You and me baby…We’re going places.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Charlotte

The summers are the only thing the Upper Peninsula has going for it. Sounds harsh, but I’m officially sick of freezing my ass off. Bringing logs in for the fireplace seemed quaint the first time I did it, but the novelty has worn off. So I’m beyond pleased to see the green buds on the sugar maples dotting Janelle’s property. And looking out over the sparkling expanse of water, I’m excited for Ethan to discover the rocks and cool little critters that inhabit the shoreline in the years to come, even though it’s pretty much mid-August before you can wade in up to your ankles without risking hypothermia. Lake Superior is no joke.

It’s not like Ann Arbor boasts a comfortable climate in the winter, but the busy college town is far more welcoming. I’ve kind of come to love it this spring. Janelle and I have gotten in the habit of staying on a few extra days when we venture down for Ethan’s appointments. We take the baby for walks down Washington Street and always hit the farmers’ market on Saturdays when we’re in town. We walk the campus. We explore the museum, the arboretum and the quad with its Hogwarts feel. I have to pinch myself, still hardly able to wrap my head around the fact that I’ll be a member of the incoming freshman class this September.

Janelle surprised me when she offered to pay for my schooling in full, insisting that since I was now a state resident it wouldn’t be hard to swing. But I turned her down. In addition to everything she’s already done for me, she was going to be covering housing and childcare. I was determined to pay the tuition on my own. It was time to get my hands on my money.

I could have arranged for the bank in Pittsburgh to transfer my funds to the small savings account I’d opened in Ann Arbor—that would have been the easiest and smartest thing to do—but I think there’s a glutton for punishment inside all of us. So Janelle and I set out at six that morning in July, taking the four hour connecting flight through Detroit that would land us in Pittsburgh. Lawrence stepped up to watch Ethan, and although I hated leaving him in anyone else’s care, I left that morning free of worry, knowing Lawrence is just as safety conscious as I am.

Ethan wasn’t out of the woods, but now at nearly fifteen months, his doctors are pleased with his progress. He’s scheduled to see his specialists every four months now, and if all goes well this year, he’ll graduate to six-month follow-ups. He’s on the small side for his age, was slow to sit up independently, and is now just beginning to pull himself up to a stand using the coffee table for support, but he’s been meeting his language and learning milestones right on target—I’ve been studying those child development books since the day he was born.

The car rental was ready when we landed, and the business at the bank in downtown Pittsburgh took no more than an hour. I walked out with a check for fourteen thousand dollars tucked into my wallet. Along with a grant for single parents Mrs. Ryan helped secure, and a “nontraditional family” scholarship of one thousand dollars I got for writing an essay of the groveling variety, I’d be able to cover my freshman year. I planned on earning merit scholarship money with my kick ass grades and taking out loans when necessary to finance the rest.

It takes less than an hour to drive from the bank to Mason Motors. I was going to do this alone, but when I told Janelle about my plan to visit my father, she insisted on coming along for the trip. Solid move on her part, knowing full well that seeing him was not her idea of a vacation. It wasn’t mine either.

The building was massive in my memory, with its endless sea of shiny new trucks and cars surrounding it, but now it seems less imposing. Compared to what I’ve seen outside of this small town, my dad’s business doesn’t impress. And I guess Liza was the one who handled the seasonal landscaping and other decorative touches, because Independence Day is just around the corner, but unlike years past, you’d never know it. There are no red, white and blue displays of patriotism to be seen.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves when we pull into the lot. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and I’m praying I don’t see any familiar faces when we walk in. I love my son more than anything on this earth, but the idea of making his existence known to the people of my hometown coats me in shame. In that moment, I am not an incoming freshman at one of the most competitive state universities in the country. I am not a competent young woman who has taken on the responsibility of raising a medically fragile child, and done a damn good job of it too, thank you very much. No, I am nothing more than an unwed teenage mother. Nothing more than that sixteen year-old girl who was too stupid to know that taking antibiotics to combat a mild case of back acne would render the stolen birth control pills she was taking all but useless. I fight off my insecurities and take strength from Janelle when she squeezes my hand.

Christian is on the phone. His mouth hangs open, momentarily stunned when he sees me. He resumes talking with his eyes fixed on me. His look isn’t angry or shocked. No, he plays it off like he’s devoid of emotion. I mirror his expression as I take him in. He looks the same: a good looking man but one who isn’t putting enough effort into his appearance. He’s still got the makings of the pot belly he was growing before I left, and he looks like he could use a woman to shop for him. His tie clashes with his shirt, and he’s wearing a brown belt in contrast to his black shoes. He presses a device on his desk, and within a minute my father appears.

Like the business itself, my father seems less imposing as he walks over to greet his daughter and his sister with a smile. It’s the same smile he uses to greet prospective customers. I’m expecting him to say, “What can I help you folks with today?” so I’m surprised when he hugs me. It’s a stiff hug. He doesn’t pull me in close.

“Charlotte,” he says as he pulls back to look at me. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

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