From The Start (1st Draft)

Chapter 30

Alexander drove Jake and I home that afternoon, they both were beginning to get sort of close, so we could watch Jimmy for our mom while she went to my aunts house for a little break. There really wasn't much to do, so I mostly watched TV until around seven o'clock. That's when she finally got home, and came walking through the doorway, practically glowing.

She walked into the kitchen as I followed behind her, wondering why she wouldn't stop smiling. "Mom," I said, watching her open the fridge to get out some cheese and crackers.

"Hi sweetheart," she said, looking over at me and smiling.

"What's up? I mean why are you so happy right now?" I asked her.

She handed me a piece of cheese as I laughed. "Here, eat."

"Um, alright," I grinned, admiring how much of a good mood she was in, but also so confused with why.

She leaned her back against the counter and sighed. "I am so relaxed," she told me. "I needed that break, even if it was only for four hours."

"I'm glad. You deserved it," I honestly told her. "You do so much for us."

"Thank you, Rosalie. Where are your brothers?"

I shrugged. "Jake, I have no idea. He's probably downstairs. He disappeared after playing Call of Duty. Jimmy is playing toys in his bedroom. I checked on him like ten minutes ago, and he looks pretty tired."

"Aw, that's great," she kept smiling.

"Yeah. I figured I could get him to be exhausted for you, so you could put him to bed and have some time for yourself," I explained, her handing me another piece of cheese.

"You are such an angel," she proudly stated, rubbing my arm. "You feel any different yet?"

"Nope," I said, chewing, sitting up on the counter until she glared at me. I jumped back down afterward and bit my lip.

"Really? Seventeen is a big change," she told me.

"Says the woman who told me I couldn't be in love because seventeen is 'too young'," I rolled my eyes.

"Being in love at that age is almost impos--," she suddenly stopped talking, and looked down at the floor.

"Impossible?" I finished for her. She didn't speak. "Mom...?"

"Um," she hesitated, walking out of the kitchen. "Come here."

I followed her into the living room and sat next to her on the couch. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

"I think I just fooled myself," she quietly let out, then turned to look at me. "I feel pretty ignorant."

"What does that mean?" I asked her, so confused.

"It means that I'm a complete hypocrite." She shook her head, repeatedly.

"Why?"

"Because I was in love with your father when I was your age," she admitted, making my stomach tie in a knot. "I was thirteen when I first laid eyes on him."

"Would it be too painful to tell me the story?" I asked her, almost begging.

She nodded. "Yes," she answered, taking hold of my hand. "But I think you should hear it."

"But I don't want it to upset you," I told her, carefully. "He's put you through a lot."

"Your uncle was best friends with your father," she started to explain. "For a very long time. I always had a small crush on him, but as I got older it continued to grow bigger and bigger. He would come over my house, sleep over, and I swore I loved him even when I was only sixteen years old."