Letting Loose. Joanne Skerrett

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СКАЧАТЬ still on parole…”

      “Yeah, and you don’t want to go to jail.”

      She sat down heavily. Was she crying? I couldn’t stand that. I didn’t want to see that today. I wanted to go back to my room. To Drew’s letter. To my sixty-seven-degree apartment with my anarchist roommates.

      “What am I going to do?”

      “Ma, you have to call the police and tell them what happened. Hopefully, this accident wasn’t too serious. And it couldn’t have been, else they would have been outside with guns waiting to pick you up. Just call the cops and get it straight. Your insurance is gonna go up and Gerard’s gonna get in trouble again. That’s all there is to it.”

      I was so angry with Gerard that I didn’t even want to think of how sad the idea of him going back to jail made me. How many times was he going to screw up?

      “I can’t do that to my son, Amelia. I can’t do that to him. He’s doing so well with his new job.”

      I sighed. “Fine, then. Take the blame. But you’re gonna have to go to court.”

      I truly didn’t know what would happen to her if she took the blame for Gerard’s screwup. What I did know was that she would do it. She loved him like that. Me, she could verbally abuse all the day long. But Gerard was her little man. She would coddle him till the day he died.

      I hugged her and told her that everything would be okay. Then I went into the kitchen to make sure she had enough food. There was one other bottle of liquor in the cabinet. I stuck it in my bag. She’d finish the Tanqueray, then she’d have no more unless she went to the store, and she certainly wouldn’t go out in this cold weather.

      “Bye, Ma. Call me and let me know what you want to do. I’ll come to the police station with you if you want.”

      She waved as I pulled away. Aaargh! Gerard, just grow up already, I thought. I tried calling his cell but he would not pick up. Fine, little brother, have it your way. I was so tired of my family!

      Chapter 11

      For some reason, I picked up the phone and dialed his number. His machine came on but he picked up halfway through the recording.

      “I knew it would be you,” he said, and my heart immediately warmed over like I’d just eaten a bowl of cream of wheat on a cold, cold morning.

      “I got your package. Now I’ll be up all night rereading Wide Sargasso Sea.”

      “That’s a really sexy book,” he said. “I read it in about a day and a half. I think Antoinette Cosway was kinda hot. Crazy, but still hot.”

      “I see. You like the crazy type.”

      “Not really. I like bookish types, with steamy chapters.”

      The minutes disappeared in a stream of revelations I had not planned. I told him about Ma and Gerard, their problems, my responsibilities in all of it. I never thought I could ever talk to anyone else about those things, except Whitney. Not even James and Kelly were aware of the extent of my family’s baggage. It was something that so shamed me that I engaged in my mother’s lies to my colleagues and casual friends. When Gerard had been locked away, I told everyone, along with my mother, that he was studying computer science at UNH.

      Lying was easy. It had started when my father began to drink heavily. I would call his work sometimes to tell them he wouldn’t be in because he was sick. Then when he really got sick, we told everyone that it was diabetes that was killing him and not drunk’s diseases or a busted-up liver. Lies, lies, lies. Then I started covering for my mother when she would screw up at her job, and then for Gerard when he’d done something to some neighbor’s property or some kid’s bike. I was always lying for my family. But here I was spilling embarrassing truths to Drew. Maybe it was easy to be honest because I’d never seen him before. Maybe that fact made him somehow less real to me. Maybe I was still lying in some sense.

      “Sometimes I wish I could just trade them in for a new family. Divorce them, you know?”

      “You don’t have to be so close to them if you don’t want to be,” he said. “You’re a big girl. You can move away. You cannot let their problems take over your life.”

      “I can’t do that, Drew. I’ve tried. But I always worry. It’s like the drama keeps pulling me back.”

      “Well, there’s your answer. You’re a loving, caring person and you don’t want to see your mother or your brother get hurt. What’s so bad about that?”

      “I don’t want to always have to be the one to save them.”

      “Then don’t be. Let them fall sometimes. They’ll learn to pick themselves up eventually.”

      “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure your family is perfect,” I said, wishing that he would have some major gripe that I could latch on to and feel somewhat better about my situation.

      “Not really. My dad was kind of a tyrant. I miss him now that he’s gone, but while he was alive we didn’t always get along.”

      “You mean he was a bad man? I thought he was loved and respected by everyone in your country.”

      “That was just for show. He had a public persona that he used to get votes and then there was the other side of him that only my mother and I got to see. It wasn’t pretty.”

      “What was it like?”

      He paused. “He did his best. He was just conflicted for the most part…You know, trying to be a good leader, a good father and husband. It was a lot for him to handle.”

      I sensed that he didn’t want to talk about it. “What about your mom, then?”

      “She’s great. She’s always been my champion. I think she spoiled me a bit. She’s my best friend, really.”

      “She sounds like a great person.” If she’d raised him to be what he is, then she must be a phenomenal sister!

      “I just wish things between my mom and me would just be normal. I’m tired of this up and down.”

      “You have a choice,” he said.

      Later, I looked out the window before settling into bed. It was snowing again and the windowpane was freezing. Drew’s voice was still echoing in my head. I so wanted to be where he was. And not here. I didn’t want to have to think about going to court with Ma and about what would happen to Gerard if the cops found out he’d violated parole. Whitney had told me on numerous occasions: “Just let them screw their lives the hell up. Let Gerard go back to jail. Let your mom drink her nights and her days away in that old, dark house. Stop trying so hard.”

      But I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t as if things weren’t bad enough, despite my efforts. It would be worse for them if I weren’t here. But would it be worse for me? I wanted to find out. I picked up the phone, cringing as an image of my last phone bill flashed across my mental screen.

      “Drew, I’ve made up my mind,” I said. “I’m coming.”

      I thought I heard СКАЧАТЬ