The Red Thread (18 page)

He looks over quickly and gives me a bright smile.

“His name is Adam. I met him at therapy.”

“Is that the entire story?” He sounds disappointed.

“Yeah.” That’s all I want to say for now. It’s a start at least. Dr. Wheeler says I need to start opening up to people, so I’m trying. I really am.

“I start school again soon. I’m not ready yet. I’m really enjoying the time off. I mean I’ve friends at school, but no one like you or Tommy. Plus I have less time to spend with Nick.”

Who the hell is Nick?

“Wait… who is Nick?” I ask.

Alex’s eyes widen. “Oh wow, I’ve been all over the place. He’s this new guy I met,” he says with a blush.

“You started seeing a guy?”

“Yeah. We met online, like every other couple these days.” His smile widens.

“I am happy for you, Alex.”

“When can I meet him?”

“He’s visiting his grandmother for a couple weeks. He actually went to high school with us. He was two years ahead.”

For the rest of the car ride, Alex tells me about what he has planned for Nick and himself. It’s a pretty romantic date, where Alex wants to have a small picnic outside in the park where they can cuddle on a blanket and drink hot cocoa. It actually is pretty cute, even I have to admit, but that’s Alex for you. Ever since we first met Alex, he’s been a hopeless romantic. He’s been waiting for love to enter his life all these years. He hasn’t found it yet, but he tells me he believes Nick can be the one he falls for. I hope so.

I don’t tell him what I truly think. He and Nikki broke up only a few weeks ago. How can he have moved on so soon? Sometimes his heart ignores his brain.

We reach Tommy’s house, and Alex is the one to pull out his cell phone, but Tommy doesn’t answer. He tries two more times, until we just decide to try the doorbell.

“Why isn’t Tommy answering?” Alex mumbles under his breath.

I sneak around the small one-story house, as Alex follows behind me.

“Jess, what are you doing?”

I ignore Alex as I find myself outside Tommy’s window. I knock on the window, and I see a lump underneath the blanket. It doesn’t move, so I knock even louder. The lump finally moves, and Tommy erupts out of the nest of blankets. He walks over to the window and slides it open.

“What the fuck do you guys want?”

“We’re worried. You haven’t been answering any of our calls or texts,” Alex responds.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Bullshit,” I spit out.

“I just haven’t wanted to be around anyone.”

“Even us?” Alex sounds hurt when he says this, but I know how Tommy feels. It’s like when I’m in my dark place, I don’t want anyone around me.

“Especially you guys.”

“But why?”

Alex refuses to give up. He’s trying to be a good friend, but I think we should back away. That’s exactly what I do. I back away from the window, but Alex stays put. He stares Tommy right in his eyes. The two of them are like two warriors going into battle. I’m just the spectator on the sidelines, where I’ve always been. I’ve been on the outside watching my entire life, and I stay here as I watch the two of them.

“Just for once, Alex, please fuck off. I’m not in the mood.”

Before Alex can say another word, Tommy slams the window shut, and Alex walks away, all the disappointment visible in his body language. Betrayal is written on his face, and I don’t say a word. We get into the car, he drives me home, and I watch his car disappear.

Inside the house I’m met by my mom, who is in the living room reading a book. I got my love of books from her. When I was a kid, she used to read
Peter Pan
to me; I was obsessed with it. It was all I wanted to hear, so every night before bed, she’d read a chapter and then tuck me in. Oh how I wish I could be Peter Pan and just stay forever young and innocent.

“Where have you been?” Anger drips from her voice.

“I went to see Tommy this morning with Alex.”

Her anger disappears. “Oh… how is he?” she asks with genuine concern. That’s the one thing you can always trust about my mom. She is always genuine about her feelings. Most people are fake when they are concerned about others, but when my mother is concerned, she honestly means it.

“He wouldn’t see us.”

She shakes her head, and her lips become a straight line on her face.

“That poor boy.”

I nod in agreement.
That poor boy.
That is the kind of thing you hear people say after someone has been murdered or goes down a terrible downward spiral in life. That is what people say about me. I don’t want Tommy to head in that direction. I want to get him help before it’s too late for him. What if he ends up in the same place I was eight months ago? What if he succeeds where I failed? I can’t let that happen.

“So, Mom… is there anything you want for Christmas?”

She looks up, putting her coffee mug onto the table. Her blue eyes are wide in surprise. Am I so selfish I never buy anything for anyone else? Although I guess I’m usually preoccupied by my own insanity.

“You know you don’t have to buy anything for your father or me.”

“I know. I’m just asking.”

“Isn’t it a bit last-second to be buying gifts?”

“I’m a last-second kind of guy.”

After the surprise finally leaves her eyes she says, “So what brought this upon all of a sudden?”

“I felt like doing something nice this year. I never buy anything for anyone, and this year I want to. You all went through so much having to deal with having a crazy son.”

“
Don’t
ever call yourself crazy. How many times must I tell you that, Jess? You’re
not
crazy.”

I nod, even though I don’t agree with her.

“Is this about that boy—”

“Adam,” I finish.

“Adam?”

“Not totally. I would like to buy him something, though.”

“So is he your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” I answer. Even the mention of his name causes a large smile to grow on my face. I just cannot hide my feelings for him, even around my own family. As usual my own emotions betray me. My mom’s smile grows along with mine, and I can see the happiness on her face. If I didn’t know any better, she might be happier than I am.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

I do, I really do. Never have I felt so much for a guy. It’s like there is a lightness in my stomach that was never there before.

“Would you like to help me get him a gift?”

“Yes,” she answers delightedly.

I haven’t spent a day with my mother in years, not since I was a young boy before the depression got truly bad. I could use a day with my mom. To feel like a child again, to return to that innocence… now that would be lovely.

Mom and I walk around town, commenting on all the things we see and ignoring the stares around us. We just pretend like the last ten months or so never happened. Sometimes it’s nice to pretend things are different. A game of make-believe can go a long way. Sometimes I wish my whole life could be one big game of make-believe. I’d be someone the exact opposite of myself. If I could pretend to be a happy person for just one day, I would take it. I imagine I’d be a college student with great grades and tons of friends, but I would love to keep Adam as my boyfriend, because he is one aspect I am happy about in my actual life. But I guess there are rules to starting a new life: you have to keep everything the way it is or change everything.

I want to keep Adam.

Mom and I continue walking through the small town, ending up in an area dedicated to little shops and boutiques. Most of them sell antique items. My mom got her favorite gold necklace here. It apparently belonged to Princess Diana years ago, or it’s just costume jewelry, and my mom was ripped off. I call the latter, but hey, it makes her happy to think she has something beautiful and special. My mom loves those special items, whether they’re special to her or were to other people. She is really into antiquing, and in her bedroom there is a glass case just dedicated to small statues and tea sets and anything else that may have had some kind of value to her or someone else. She likes to document everything and loves to keep as many memories as she can. She keeps a scrapbook of memories in her closet, and it’s constantly growing with new pictures. She has this anxiety where she is afraid of getting Alzheimer’s so she hopes all of this will allow that to not happen, or if it does, it will help her gain her memories back. I don’t want to be the one to tell her that none of that will work. If you get it, you get it. Nothing you can do to change that.

Mom is the one who notices that a new shop sits in between two antique shops. It’s small, and the outside is painted a sky blue. It’s pretty hard to miss. Only a blind person wouldn’t notice this store, and even that is a maybe.

Mom and I walk into the small shop. Knickknacks cover the shelves of the store. I feel as if I have walked into Wonderland. The store is called Knickety-Knacks. Everywhere I look I see something that would match Adam’s personality. Old antique teacups, black-and-white photographs of older movie stars, comic books, and paintings. There are typewriters and old hardcover novels. The store’s walls are painted a lavender color, with landscape paintings on them. On the back wall is a mural of a cloud wearing a rainbow as a scarf, and it has a giant smile on its little puffy face that looks like cotton balls. This store rivals the cuteness of little puppies and kittens, but not quite otters. I love otters.

I decide on the spot that I like the store.

“Well, this is cute.”

“Mom, that is the understatement of the year.”

Between the bright colors and pretty pictures, this shop makes me want to live on a rainbow or something cheesy like that. Mom heads toward the antiques, and I walk away toward the small movie selection. I end up walking past the cash register, where a perky woman sits smacking her chewing gum.

“Hello, darling. How are you?” She speaks in this regal way, as if she is trying to fake a British accent, but she is really bad at it. She blows a bubble and lets it pop.

“Hey.”

“Speak up, sorry.”

Oh great, we’re going to have a problem here. People always have trouble hearing me because of how low I speak. I clear my throat and repeat myself, trying to sound a bit louder. I think my voice just ends up sounding higher pitched instead.

“How are you, darling?” Every time she says “darling,” she draws it out. She really is trying way too hard.

“I’m fine,” I squeak out.

“Wonderful. Are you looking for anything?”

“Nope.”

“My name is Esther if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Esther.”

Before she can say another word in her fake voice, I head toward the movies. The DVD collection is small, but they’re classic films. Some good ones too. Not too many horror ones, sadly. I look around to see that the store is small but still rather organized. She tries to keep the things together. After the movies, I head to the books, also a pretty small selection. They are all classic novels, which is fine by me. I’m not prejudiced against classic literature. I see an old-fashioned hardcover copy of
Jane Eyre
, and when I look at the price, I see it’s only two dollars and fifty cents… score. I grab the novel and put it under my arm.

I find my way toward the jewelry, most of it cheap-looking knickknacks, but they don’t lie at least. The prices are all pretty low and the objects are cute. There’s one necklace that is a small white kitten on a long silver chain. I could see Jill from The Book Revue wearing that. A light brown wooden box catches my eyes, and my fingers run over the smooth wood. It feels nice under the tips of my fingers. I lift the box up and open it to see a long, thin brown leather band attached to a small brass watch face. The numbers are roman numerals, and the hands of the tiny clock are fancy, seeming like they should belong to a classy grandfather clock. I lift the watch in my hand, holding it very delicately, almost afraid it will break. It’s beautiful.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

I almost jump out of my skin as the older woman stands next to me. Where the hell did she come from? She stares at me like some old witch. Is she always this creepy?

“Yeah,” I respond.

“It came all the way from Germany. It was made by a homeless girl in a factory. This was the last watch she made before being overcome by the terrible disease her tiny body was stricken with.”

“Sure….” I find that all very hard to believe. They probably make a million of these in a factory somewhere.

“Turn it over.”

I turn it over to see a small inscription in the back, three little words in a beautiful cursive.

Immer und ewig.

“What does this mean?” I ask the elder woman.

“
Immer und ewig
. It’s German for ‘forever and eternally.’”

She’s right, this really is beautiful.

“How do you wear it?” I ask. The leather band is so long, it must be too long for a wrist.

“May I?” she asks holding out her long, thin boney fingers. Her hands are wrinkled and veiny.

I hand her the watch, and she grabs my wrist. I hope this isn’t some way for her to get off, her touching my young nubile flesh and all.

She lays the face of the watch on the top of my wrist and wraps the leather band once around and then a second time, so the face is in between the two sides, and she buckles it in.

“There.”

I can’t take my eyes away from it. My wrist seems to turn into Adam’s, and I can picture this watch on his wrist. It’s beautiful, and he deserves something beautiful.

Afterward we trek to the supermarket because Mom needs food and supplies. Her favorite holiday was just around the corner, Thanksgiving.

THANKSGIVING COMES,
and I wake up to the smell of cooking turkey and mashed potatoes. After pulling on my clothes, I walk downstairs into the kitchen and find my mother in her robe at the stove, her hair in a messy bun. Clara is making the stuffing. I let out a yawn, sit down, and watch as the sounds of clanging pots and pans clatter all around the kitchen.

Every year, Mom makes a big deal over this holiday. But this year, she is really outdoing herself. I’ve never seen so much food in one room in my entire life. I see different kinds of puddings, pies, cakes. There are soups, bread. Enough food to feed two armies, the navy, and the air force, and it’s not even noon.