Ten Things

Ch.19-Must Be Something More (part two)

Grace

I could tell my father was not very happy with what he had interrupted on the porch, but I found it difficult to worry too much about it. I was a bit preoccupied with the lingering sensation of Cole’s lips on the skin of my neck. It was a delightful tingle, and I couldn’t seem to rid myself of it. Somehow I knew that I could take a thousand baths and still feel it.

My mother sat on the couch staring at me with a coy smile, as if she knew of a secret we shared.

“That boy is trouble,” my father finally spoke up, folding his arms and hovering in the doorway, much like a pouting child.

“Cole is nice,” I replied to him simply.

His eyes narrowed. He worked his jaw back and forth a couple of times before mumbling something to himself and lumbering up the stairs. I heard the door to his bedroom close. I turned helplessly to my mom.

“Was it something I said?” I muttered.

She smiled, setting down the book she was reading and resting her reading spectacles on top. She patted the cushion beside her. “Have a seat, Gracie.”

I did so, glad we were on regular speaking terms again. Honestly I couldn’t live without the relationship I had with my mother.  It was too close-knit and unique. I needed it.

“Your father is upset by the change,” she attempted to explain. “He is so used to his shielded little girl. I don’t think he was quite ready for any of these things.”

I tilted my head. “By ‘these things’ do you mean Cole?”

She nodded. “Homecoming, Cole, dresses . . . You’ll always be his little girl, Gracie. It’s hard for him watching you grow up like this, you know. He’s the one that spent most of the time with you in the hospital as a child while I worked. I don’t think he can imagine you growing up.”

I swallowed hard. I hadn’t thought about that. But I should have expected it, I guess. To be honest, though, I hadn’t even seen this change coming. I expected senior year to be a quick in and out. Cole was not ever configured into the equation.

And neither were my growing feelings for him.

“I think I’m in trouble, Mom,” I whispered, knotting my fingers together. She brushed hair back behind my ear.

“Why do you say that, sweetie?”

“Because I do not think Dad would like the direction my thoughts have taken.”

She smiled. “You fancy Cole.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Something is there, I’ll admit it. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, not yet.”

She plopped a kiss on my cheek. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Grace,” she stated, and framed my face in her hands when she saw the doubt that streaked my features. “Do not be hesitant about this, honey. You are seventeen after all. I know of Cole’s reputation and I know of your father’s disapproval, but I want you to look in here,” she gently prodded my chest, right over my heart, “for the answer, and not your mind or anyone else’s. Understand?”

I nodded. “You sound like Dr. Greene,” I admitted.

She laughed lightly. “I confess, his sessions truly did make an impact.”

I leaned my head against her shoulder. “Thank you for going, Mom.”

She took my hand in hers, caressing the backs of my thin fingers. “Of course, darling. I’m just sorry I was so harsh to you at first. Perhaps I just didn’t—” she took a deep breath, trailing off. “It’s not easy, Grace.”

I squeezed her hand. “I know.”

“But I want to be better. Better than I’ve been.”

I nodded. “I know that, too.”

“We’ve kept you in pretty close quarters your entire life. For the first time you are adequately stable and I want you to experience high school, Grace. I want you to ride the teenage rollercoaster and have each and every up and down you can think of. I want that for you, okay? Because I’ve deprived you of too many things up to this point.”

I stared at my mother, shocked. “I don’t think that,” I murmured. “That is not how I’ve viewed it.”

She sniffed. “Well it’s how I have. And I’m not happy. I want you to look within yourself, Grace, and find what makes you happy. There is no greater treasure in life than true happiness, and that’s coming from me, your mother, not Dr. Greene. If my daughter is happy I’ll know I have succeeded.”

I opened my mouth, my intent on telling her that I was happy. But was I? I had lived routinely, done what I had known to be right—to be safe—but had I been happy?

I wasn’t sure. I had no clue. What emotions of the mind and actions of the body signified happiness?

“That is why,” my mother spoke up again after a short while of silence, “I have no word against you exploring your feelings. If he makes you happy, I want you to be happy. The little things can be worked out in time.”

I truly didn’t deserve my mother. She was amazing. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, sweetie.” She kissed my forehead before rising to her feet. “Now I’m going to go talk with your father. I think he needs the ‘happiness’ and ‘letting go’ lecture himself.”

I chuckled at the playful wink she sent my way. She climbed the stairs and vanished. I sat for a moment, thinking, and when I got to thinking old things buried deep within me came to light.

In this case, an extremely old thing.

Intrigued, I jumped off the couch and escaped to my room, shutting the door behind me. I flicked on the light and moved to my closet. I crouched down, rifling through some of the older things scattered across the bottom. Meaningless trinkets and broken toys of no use to me now. But among those memories of my childhood should have been . . .

Aha, I thought. Here you are.

I clutched the crinkled sheet of paper in my hand as if it were my lifeline, emerging from the dusty closet. I flopped down on the warm sanctity of my bed, stretching out amongst the pillows.

I just stared at the paper for a few moments, recalling a time long ago as a child when I had written it, when I was not certain if I would make it out of the hospital. A small smile touched my lips, bittersweet. I unfurled the paper. It felt like Kleenex against my skin.

It was a list. “Ten things to do before I die” was written at the top in my neat childhood scribble. Following the words was a list of ten things, some trivial, others significant. I scanned through the list until I approached number six. Be kissed. It was on the list. I leaned my head back for a moment, staring at my ceiling. Had it counted? I thought it should. Considering I was still feeling the effects, it was pretty profound to me.

I reached to my desk, retrieving a pen and drawing a line through it. One down, nine to go. I smirked. It was a silly thing, something I had thought remarkably genius. But it was foolish. I folded up the paper and set it aside, though not out of sight. Foolish though it might have been, I had found it again, and I wanted it close regardless.

Maybe I wasn’t yet done with the risk-taking.

*****

And that's the second part! Woo! *swipes arm across forehead* lol love you all, and vote and comment! :D

-EJ