Текст книги "The Bridge from You to Me"

Автор книги: Lisa Schroeder

95
Lauren

 
When i say
“I promise,”
it is really
a promise
to myself
more than it is
to him.
 
 
Nothing else
can happen
until after
the championship.
 
 
Tonight,
while we were
driving,
I could see
how much
pressure
he’s under.
 
 
I don’t want
to add to that.
I won’t
add to that.
 
 
Not right now.
 
 
But I wanted him
to know how I feel.
 
 
I wanted him
to know,
in no uncertain terms,
how much I care about him.
 
 
That no matter what
happens at the end
of these two weeks,
whether he wins or loses,
it won’t change
how I feel about him.
 
 
Words have
this way of getting
mixed up
when we’re trying
too hard.
 
 
I didn’t want
to take that chance.
 
 
They say a picture
is worth a
thousand words.
 
 
I bet a kiss
is worth
ten times that.
 
 
You can say
so much
with so little.
 

96
Colby

Holy shit.

It finally happened.

And what do you know, I let myself kiss her and managed to ignore the alarms going off in my head: Danger! Danger! Step away from the girl! Step AWAY from the girl!

It was reallynice.

When we’re done, she scoots over to the other side of the seat and buckles up. “We should probably go,” she says. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh. Right.” I turn the engine on and start backing out of the gravel road.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, for the second time tonight.

This time, I answer more enthusiastically. “Yes. Everything’s great!”

She chuckles. “Okay, Sunny Bunny.”

I look over at her. “Did you just call me Sunny Bunny? Man, Benny calls me Little Miss Sunshine. What is it with you people?”

“Well, my mom used to call me Sunny Bunny. I think you’re a lot like me. Always trying to keep things positive, for the sake of other people.”

I think you’re a lot like me.

I recall the words she said earlier. I think we both want the same thing.

Are we really that much alike? Is that why it’s so easy being with her?

We drive toward town, silence filling up the space between us. I turn the music back up.

“You’re taking me home?” she asks as we drive past Murphy’s Hill.

“Yeah. Is that okay? Or did you want to go back to the party?”

“No. Home’s fine.” Pause. “It feels weird calling it that. I mean, because it’s not my home. Not really.”

“Sure it is.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You live there with people who care about you.” I shrug. “That’s home.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“It’ll be all right, Lauren. You’ll see.”

97
Lauren

 
When he pulls into
the Jiffy Mart
parking lot,
I can’t help but laugh.
 
 
“My treat,” he says.
“Get whatever you want.”
 
 
I know
a convenience store
is about as far
from romantic
as you can get,
but I am truly touched
by how hard he’s trying
to make me happy.
 
 
“What sounds good to you?”
I ask as he opens the door for me
and helps me out of his truck.
 
 
“Bugles and a slushie.
You?”
 
 
“Same.”
 
 
“Copycat.”
 
 
We stand there,
in the middle of
the parking lot,
just inches away
from each other.
 
 
“But I liked Bugles first,” I say,
“so I think you’re the copycat.”
 
 
“Crap. You’re right.”
We walk toward
the door and he says,
“So, the friends thing.
It’s over now, right?
Man, I knew it’d be too hard.”
 
 
He starts to put his arm
around my shoulders,
but I duck and turn.
 
 
“It’s not over,” I tell him.
 
 
He stops. “It’s not?”
 
 
“No.
Not until you win state.”
 
 
He crosses his arms.
“Have you been talking to my dad?”
 
 
“Colby, you have a lot on your mind.
Get through the next couple of weeks.
Then we can . . . pick up where we left off.”
 
 
“But —”
 
 
“I promised I wouldn’t let
you mess anything up.
This is how I do that.”
 
 
We go around the store,
getting our snacks.
 
 
“Two weeks?” he asks
when we get to the register.
 
 
“Two weeks.
Saturday night.
Your favorite restaurant.”
 
 
“What if we don’t win?” he asks.
 
 
I smile.
“I’m in no matter what.”
 

98
Colby

“Two weeks is a long time,” I say on the way to her aunt and uncle’s house.

She takes a drink of her blue-raspberry slushie. “It really isn’t.”

“I think it is.”

“It’ll fly by. You’ll see.”

“I was a good friend, wasn’t I?” I ask.

She laughs. “The best. Until tonight, when you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”

“Hey, you’re the one —”

She throws a couple of Bugles at me. “Stop. We shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“So why’d you do it? Get my hopes up like that?” I pull into the driveway and put the truck into park.

“Colby, I didn’t get your hopes up.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. Look at it this way. Instead of dreading the game that could change your life in a hundred different ways, now you can’t wait for it. Right?”

Oh my God. She’s right.

“You’re brilliant.” She nods as she opens the door and hops out. “Hey, Lauren?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad I ran into you tonight. It’s just what I needed.”

“Me too. Good night.”

“Good night.”

As I head home, I realize for once in a long, long time, I feel like everything is going to be all right.

Sunny Bunny. That’s me.

99
Lauren

 
Sunday,
the kids
wake me up
early because
we’re going
to the zoo.
 
 
I’ve never been
to a zoo.
Not one time.
But I don’t
tell them that.
 
 
It’s funny how
they don’t even
ask me if I want
to go, they just
assume I do.
 
 
And they’re right.
 
 
We play
the license plate
game on the drive
to Portland.
 
 
Andrew’s really
good at it,
often the first
to find the letter
we’re looking for.
 
 
Once inside
the zoo gates,
I see every animal
through little
Demi’s eyes.
 
 
The chimps are cute.
The bears are scary.
The penguins are funny.
The elephants are big!
 
 
The baby elephant, Lily,
doesn’t stray far from
her mother, Rose.
 
 
When Rose reaches
her trunk over and
rests it on Lily’s
back for a moment,
a sweet sign of affection,
the crowd lets out
a collective “aw.”
 
 
I feel my heart
breaking
a little more.
 
 
What I wouldn’t give
for a little bit
of motherly love
like that.
 

100
Colby

Sunday morning, as I’m lying there checking my phone, it rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Benny! How are you?”

“Pretty good.”

“You sound great! I’ve been thinking about you. Wasn’t sure of the best time to call. You heard about the game?”

“Yeah. Awesome.”

“Well, it was all for you.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“I miss you, man,” I tell him. “Are things going well?”

“Working hard.”

“Good! I know you are. I can’t wait until you come home and things are back to the way they were before.”

“Won’t ever . . . be the same,” he says.

The way he says it, it feels like someone is ripping my chest wide open. “No, I guess not. But you gotta know, everyone

wants you to come home, Benny. When you’re ready, of

course.”

Again, he doesn’t say anything, so I keep talking.

“I have to decide what to do about college. Soon. The recruiters are starting to breathe down my neck again, with the season winding down, and my dad is about ready to kill me if I don’t make up my mind. I don’t know what to do.”

After it’s out, I regret it. I shouldn’t be griping about this with him. What he wouldn’t give to have recruiters breathing

down his neck.

“Sorry, Ben —”

“You know . . . what to do.”

It makes me laugh. “I do?”

“Deep down. You know.”

I swallow hard.

“Listen,” he says. “Just . . . listen.”

“But I’m scared,” I say, in almost a whisper.

“It’s your life,” he says. “Live it. Be happy.”

“What about you? Are you ever gonna be happy again?”

“Yes. I’m happy. Now.”

“Now?”

“I’m alive. So lucky. I’m happy. Want that . . . for you.”

I can’t believe this conversation. It should be me telling himto be happy. Look at all he’s lost. Instead, I’m the miserable one, and for what?

“Going to state hasn’t really changed anything for me,” I tell him. “I don’t want to play college ball.”

“More to life . . . than football.”

“Benny, is this really you, or is this someone pretending to be you?”

“It’s me.”

“You’re different,” I tell him.

“Yeah. I’m looking . . . at community colleges now. Want to do something . . . in the medical field. You know. Help people. Gives me . . . something to . . . work for.”

“Oh man. Benny. That’s great. You can do it. I know you can.”

“Working hard,” he says again.

“So. You gonna tell me to win state?”

“Nope.”

“How come?”

“You got . . . enough pressure. Won’t do that . . . to you.”

“Yeah.”

“Be happy, Pynes.” He pauses. “Promise?”

I close my eyes. “I promise.”

101
Lauren

 
As we head
back toward
Willow and
away from the zoo
and the big city of Portland,
the topic of
conversation
is where to stop
for dinner.
 
 
Everyone’s
hungry.
 
 
No one can
agree.
 
 
No one
knows
what
happens
next.
 
 
It’s a tense
few minutes.
 
 
Just like Colby.
Just like me.
Neither one of us
knows what
happens next.
 
 
It’s hard to be
happy in the now
when you can’t
stop worrying
about the future.
 
 
What I want
is to trust that
everything will
work out.
To believe
with all my heart
that I’ll end up
where I belong.
 
 
We end up
stopping at
a twenty-four-hour diner.
 
 
No one complains.
Everyone’s just happy
to be somewhere
with food.
 
 
Everything
worked out.
 
 
We ended up
somewhere,
together,
and that’s
what really
matters.
 

102
Colby

He makes it sound so easy.

Be happy.

Like you can just get everyone on your side and happiness will magically appear, no problem. Still, I promised. I’ve got to figure out my next move. There’s no one to coach me on this one. I’m on my own.

I’m about to head toward the bathroom to take a shower, when Dad rushes into my room.

“Colby, get dressed. An ambulance is on its way. Something’s wrong with your gram.”

I stand there in total panic. “What do you mean something’s wrong?”

“She might be having a heart attack. I don’t know. Just . . . get dressed. I’m going outside to wait for the ambulance.”

He leaves and I throw on the clothes I wore last night.

I stand in the hallway, hesitant. What should I do? I want to see her and yet there’s a part of me that’s afraid. I don’t know if I can stand to see her in pain.

I take a deep breath and walk to their room. The door is slightly ajar. I can hear Grandpa talking.

“You’re doing great, Judith. Nice, slow breaths. Help will be here in a minute.”

I open the door and step in. She’s in her robe, lying on the floor. “Gram?” I kneel down next to her. Her eyes are closed, and it’s like each breath takes everything she’s got.

She opens her eyes and looks like she’s going to say something, but I put my finger on her lips. They feel cold.

“Shhh, don’t talk. Save your energy. I just want you to know, I love you, Gram. Everything’s going to be all right. Hang on, okay?”

She closes her eyes again.

I watch her chest. Up. Down. Up. Down.

I will it to keep moving.

We hear the sirens a minute or so later. Dad comes in and yells, “They’re here!”

Grandpa’s eyes meet mine. He looks so worried, so scared, it makes me want to cry.

“We need to get out of the way, Colby,” Grandpa says. “They’ll need room to get the stretcher in here.”

We both stand up, but we don’t move. She looks so helpless. So . . . alone.

Grandpa reaches out and takes my hand. Together, we step toward the other side of the room, just as the paramedics come in. He squeezes my hand before he lets it go.

“Who can tell us what happened?” one of the guys asks.

Grandpa steps forward and starts talking. She’d taken a bath. A long one. When she got out, she called for him. Told Grandpa she didn’t feel well. Nauseous. And said she felt like someone was sitting on her chest.

As one of the paramedics begins to undress her to take her vitals, I realize I shouldn’t be watching.

I turn around, my arms squeezed tightly to my chest. I look out their bedroom window. It’s gray and dreary outside.

Raining.

Gram loves the rain.

I blink the tears back.

103
Lauren

 
That night, Demi asks
me to tuck her in.
 
 
Her mom’s taking a nap
because she has to work later.
 
 
Uncle Josh finishes the story,
kisses her good night, then leaves us.
 
 
“How do you like to be
tucked in?” I ask her.
 
 
“Do it the way your
mommy did it to you,” she says.
 
 
“My mommy never
tucked me in,” I explain.
 
 
“Okay. Get in and
I will show you how,” she says.
 
 
She hops up, throws the covers
back, and pulls me into her bed.
 
 
“You take the covers like this,”
she says, bringing them to my chin.
 
 
“Then you tuck one side and
say, ‘Good night, sleep tight,’
 
 
and tuck the other side and
say, ‘Don’t let the bedbugs bite.’
 
 
And then you give a kiss
on the forehead, like this. Mwah.
 
 
Before you leave, you say,
‘I love you with all my heart.’ ”
 
 
“That’s so cool,” I say.
“You are a very lucky girl.”
 
 
Demi crawls into her bed
and I tuck her in, like she showed me.
 
 
After I say, “I love you with all my heart,”
she says, “I’m happy you’re part of our family.”
 
 
She rolls over to get comfy. I turn off the lamp.
And as I head toward the door, I whisper, “Me too.”
 

104
Colby

“It’s not supposed to be her in there,” Grandpa says as we sit in the waiting room. “She’s not like me. She’s the strong one. The healthy one.”

“Dad, don’t do that,” my dad says. “These things happen.”

“She was always worrying about me,” Grandpa says. “I should have been paying more attention. Made sure she was taking care of herself too. Did she even have a physical this past year? I can’t remember. Damn it. I don’t remember.”

He rubs his face with his hands, and I wish I could say something to make him feel better. The thing is, I feel bad too. How many times did I ask how Grandpa was feeling, never thinking to ask Gram? We all just assumed she was fine. Took her and everything she did for us for granted.

I stand up and stretch. I’m tired of sitting. Tired of this waiting room, where I’ve spent far too much time the last few months. Tired of being reminded how things can change on a dime.

“I’m gonna go outside,” I tell them. “Get some fresh air.”

Grandpa jumps up. “I’ll go with you.” He looks at Dad.

“If you hear anything, come and find us?”

Dad nods. “Of course.”

We make our way to the courtyard, passing all kinds of different people. One thing’s for sure. None of them look very happy to be here.

Grandpa opens the door when we reach the outdoor space. We step out, and the first thing I notice is that everything’s wet, since it’s been raining on and off all day. That includes the benches and chairs. It’s a nice space, flower beds landscaped among the concrete.

“Do you want to sit down?” Grandpa asked. “I can go get some paper towels and wipe a bench down for us.”

“I’m tired of sitting,” I say. “But if you want to . . .”

“No. I’m fine. You’re right. It’s good to stand for a while.”

We make our way to the very middle of the courtyard, and I look up. Nothing to see but gray sky.

“You’ve seen too much of this place lately, Colby,” Grandpa says.

I stuff my hands in my pockets. “That’s for sure.”

“How’s Benny doing?”

“I talked to him this morning. He sounds good.”

“That’s great. I bet he’ll be back home in no time.”

“I hope so.”

“You know, I’m proud of you, Colby,” he says. “These last few months haven’t been easy, and look at you. Going to state. Choosing a college soon. You didn’t just keep it together, you’ve excelled.”

“Grandpa, right now, I couldn’t care less about that championship game.”

“I understand. But there are a lot of people in this town who do care. A lot. And you know your gram and I will be there, cheering you on. Nothing will keep her away.”

“We don’t know that,” I say.

We’re quiet for a minute. Then he says, “You know, when bad things happen, it’s good to have something else to think about. Something to believe in. Whether it’s a terrible motorcycle accident, or a heart attack, your team and the dedication you all show to one another and this town reminds people that there is more good in the world than bad.”

I shake my head. “I know how much our town loves us. But sometimes, when I’m thinking about it, and all the other stuff going on in the world, I want to scream at people, it’s just a game. Find something better to believe in. Something that reallymatters, you know?”

“Oh, Colby. You know it matters. It matters because it brings the town together in a way nothing else does. Friends and family, all together, sending their love to one another, and to you. All of you, on that field, representing us. It’s not just a game. It’s a community, and everything that represents. And you may leave here someday and never look back, I don’t know, but I can tell you one thing. You will always remember this town and what it was like to be a part of it. Maybe now it feels small and stifling, but I bet someday, you’ll see it differently. Tight-knit. Cozy. And most of all, home.”

I look at my grandpa, trying so hard to convince me that what I do on that field matters. Because it’s not just everyone else in this town that needs something to believe in, I need it too.

But what if I can’t anymore?

I reach back and pull out my wallet. I read the card I’ve read when I’ve went to buy gas for my truck or a slushie at the Jiffy Mart or something for Gram at the grocery store, so I’d save her a trip.

I believe.

I believe in myself.

I believe in the team.

I believe it’s our time.

Maybe it’s these words that got us to state.

But when state’s over, what happens then? What the hell am I supposed to believe in then?

105
Lauren

 
We are all tiptoeing
around it.
 
 
“We” being me,
Uncle Josh,
and Aunt Erica.
 
 
“It” being
the conversation
we need to have,
about what happens now.
 
 
With me.
 
 
My therapist says
I just need to ask them
if I can stay and if
they’ll help me with
college applications
for next year.
 
 
Just ask.
 
 
Like it’s as easy
as asking for a drink
of water when I’m thirsty.
 
 
For days and weeks,
I try to get up the
courage to say,
“Can we talk?”
 
 
And just when
it seems it might be
the right time,
Thursday night,
the day before
the big game,
the phone rings.
 
 
It’s Mom.
 

106
Colby

A mild heart attack. After tests and more tests, that’s what they called it. With medications, a good diet, and regular walking, the doctor says Gram will be fine.

She stayed at the hospital a couple of days for monitoring, and then they sent her home.

Dad took the week off from work so Grandpa wouldn’t overdo it, taking care of her. The doctor said Gram would be tired the first week, but she should still get up, get dressed, and should not lie in bed all day.

I’m pretty sure when he said that he didn’t know that lying in bed all day is about the last thing my gram would ever want to do.

With everything going on, Dad doesn’t mention the big “college decision,” and I certainly don’t bring it up. I’m thankful for the reprieve. My plan is to get through the final game, and worry about the rest later. Cross that bridge when I come to it, so to speak.

By the second week, Gram seems back to her old self, though we only let her cook dinner for us, while we take care of our  own breakfasts and lunches. We’re also doing our own laundry, which bugs the crap out of her, because none of us does it the “right” way.

I honestly don’t care if I pull my wrinkly jeans out of the dryer after they’ve sat there for two days, but Gram cares. And she lets me know it.

I just smiled when she told me how I should have been doing it, and when she finished giving me my laundry lesson, I said, “I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Gram.”

She replied, “Well, honestly, I’ll be glad when I can do your laundry again, so it’s done right. You deserve better than wrinkled pants, Colby!”

I gave her a big hug as I laughed about it.

Now it’s Thursday, and we’re dressing for our last practice of the season. Tomorrow night, we’ll be up in Portland, in a big fancy locker room, getting ready for the game of our lives.

I jump when I hear Coach holler, “Gather round!”

“What’s this?” Derek asks. “The big motivating speech comes tomorrow night, doesn’t it?”

Coach smiles. “Yes. It does. But this afternoon I have some good news to share. I just got off the phone and wanted to tell you we’ll have some special guests at the game tomorrow night.”

We look at one another, question marks floating over our heads.

“There’s no way you’ll guess, so I’ll just tell you. Your teammate, Benny Lewis, is flying in tomorrow for the game.”

The room erupts in cheers. I’m sitting there in shock, wondering why Benny didn’t let me know about this.

“Lewis has made incredible progress,” Coach goes on. “His mom told me the overseeing physician says it’s nothing short of a miracle. Anyway, I’ve been checking in with his family on a regular basis, and it was my hope that I could help to make this happen for you boys. His team of medical staff agreed to let him fly home, just for the weekend. On Sunday, he’ll return to Atlanta, because his work there certainly isn’t finished.”

Coach looks around at us for a minute before he says, “I know this has been a challenging season for y’all. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you fell apart; if you couldn’t muster the strength and courage week after week like a winning team needs to. But you did it. And I am so damn proud of each and every one of you. And I know whatever happens tomorrow night, you’re gonna make Benny proud too.

“Now let’s get out there and have a good practice. I’ll see you on the field in five.”