Second Chance (55 page)

“How’s your arm feeling?
” M
om asks.

“Do you think it’s too late for me to get a tee time tomorrow morning
?
You wouldn’t be interested in playing a round, would you?”
Dad asks
.

“Honey, what Gray needs are groceries.”

“
C
lair
, he’s old enough to buy his own groceries.”

“Your kitchen smells a little
funky
,
Gray
,” Mom observes
. D
o all moms have an acute sen
se of smell or is it just mine?
“
Have you given the sink a good scrub lately?”

I wonder to myself if we even own a scrubbing utensil
.

She
opens the pantry door and shakes her head at our messily arr
anged boxes of processed food
.
“Gray, do you take a multi
-
vitamin?”

“Yankees and Red Sox are playing tomorrow afternoon,”
D
ad points out.

“Oh, is that all we
’re going to do this weekend? W
atch baseball?”
Mom complains.

“You can take the car downtown whenever you want,” he reminds her.

“I don’t know dear,
Albuquerque
has a lot of crime
.
I don’t want to go out by myself
.
Gray, should we get you a club for your car?”

My dad picks up
the
newspaper he has tucked under his arm and starts browsing the sports section
.
“No one’s going to steal a ten
-
year
-
old
h
atchback,
C
lair
.”

“Is your neighborhood safe, Gray
?
You lock your doors at night, don’t you?”

I plaster a
perpetual smile on my face in response
to all of their comments and suggestions and questions.

I’m already sick of them
.
Is that wrong?

It’s moments like this when I miss Amanda so bad the
pain
throbs
like
a fresh cut, still scarring over
.
Being an only child is
too much pressure
.
My parents turn all of their attention and concern and energy onto my life and I feel responsible
for
fill
ing
something that’s mi
ssing
.
To be two people
.
S
om
etimes it makes me feel small, as if Amanda and I were one person, a
nd now I’m only half here
.
Amanda helped me to breathe and think and laugh and love
.
All these things that should come easily,
that
should be effortless, since her death, are some of my daily challenges
.
And even though I love my parents
,
it’s always hard to be together because it’s a reminder
of what we lack
.
Now we’re an odd number
.
And I know, deep down, tha
t emptiness will always there, like a c
hasm
between us
.
 

While my parents drive to their hotel to check in, I panic
.
I run down to the Brew
House
and ask Lenny if she has seen Dylan
.

“Not today,” she
tells me
.
I leave and
jog down to Sage Street and knock on Dylan’s door
,
but no one answers
.
I meet Cat just as she’s closing the front door of the main house
.

“
Hey, i
s Dylan around?” I ask
as she walks down the steps
.
She grins and points down the street and there’s Dylan, halfway down the block, in
corduroy
shorts and a tank top, mowing somebody’s lawn
.
I run down the s
idewalk
and when I meet her
I
see
her shoulde
rs are glistening with sweat and her face is flushed
.
My mind instinctively wants to get her in the shower, but now
i
s not the time
.
She turns off the mower
and smiles at me
.

“It’s a great day for a lemonade stand,” she
points out
.
“Want to try it
?
I bet we could make at least $
2
.
5
0
.”

I shake my head and look down at the green law
n
mower
.
I ask her if she’s doing he
r good deed for the day
but
she
informs me
she’s getting paid.

“
We have a barter system
.
I get to take whatever I want from their vegetable garden,”
she
says
.
S
he leans over the mower
and whispers like she has a secret
.
“Hey, did you know vegetable gardens are proof that unicorns exist?” 

I
t
ell her I don’t have time to hear this right now
.
She
searches
my eyes
,
which probably look desperate.

“What’s wrong?” she asks
.
I drum my hands against my side
s
.
I know this is a gamble
.
I know my
mom
will fall in love with her
.
I know Dylan will remind
her
of Amanda, in all the best ways
.
But, in my gut, I feel like she needs it
.
We all need it
.

“I have a huge favor
to ask
,” I say
.

***

      
At my game, I
see
my parent
s sitting behind
first
base
with a cluster of other parents

and I notice Dylan has
wriggled her way
between them
.
My pa
rents are wearing matching UNM T
-shirts with my last name and number on the backs
.
Dylan’s wearing her stone
-
washed jean jacket
. F
or the first time
, I’m relieved to see her in it. T
his is the Dylan I love
, t
he girl that’s
so far off the normal spectrum that
psychology
needs a new term to define her
.

I glance
over my shoulder throughout the game
and see my mom laughing
.
It’s such an unusual expression for her to wear
:
happiness
.
It makes me smile and I know this was the right decision
.
I can’t keep Dylan all to myself
.
You need to share your greatest gifts so other people can appreciate them
, too
.

DYLAN

I spend the first few innings observing
Gray’s
parents with fascination
.
I want to give them a trophy for conceiving Gray because he’s perfect
,
but I think they’re a little conservative for that kind of acknowledgement
.
I notice he
inherited
the best features of his parents; he
has
his mom’s eyes
—large and
clear blue
with
long, dark lashes
.
He also has her wide mouth and smile
.
He has his dad’s dark hair
,
athletic build and laugh and my favorite part of all, his sarcastic sense of humor
.
His m
om is quiet, more observant and
relaxed
while his dad is outspoken
and
opinionated
.
His dad
critiques
and judges every play of the game and his mom i
s more patient and lighthearted.
I think Gray is a blend of all these things, but in the best ways
.