With Wings I Soar (11 page)

Mrs. Miller hung up her phone and told Tabitha it was time to leave.

“Your mom is ready for you to come home. She said you're leaving very early tomorrow and she wants you to get a good night's rest.”

Tabitha rolled her eyes. It was crazy to think she'd get any sleep after a day like today. Tabitha woke up expecting to go to court and maybe find out she had to visit her dad during the summers, but this was just too much to handle. Breaking up with her boyfriend and her best friend and moving two states away all in the same day? Who in their right mind thought a 14 year old was mature enough to handle this?

              Tabitha stood obediently and hugged Katie one last time.

              “Call me,” Katie whispered into Tabitha's ear. “Call me and give me your new address just as soon as you can.”

              “I promise to write you,” Tabitha replied.

              Tabitha didn't want to let go of Katie. For years, they had held onto each other during the toughest and most difficult hours of their young lives, and now Tabitha would be thrust into a very new world.

              Despite the fact that she had never been to an all-girls school or considered the difficulties the experience would bring, Tabitha didn't mind the thought of a new school as much as she minded the feeling that her dad was trying to brush her off.
The least he could do is let me be home schooled until next term,
Tabitha thought angrily, but she brushed the thought off, trying to put on a happy face for Mrs. Miller and keep in mind the wise woman's warning.

              Finally, Tabitha pulled away. “Goodbye,” she said simply.

              “Bye Tabs.”

              Tabitha turned and walked out the door. Mrs. Miller followed her and closed the heavy door loudly behind them. Tabitha felt, as she headed to the car, that her life had become a series of actions, rather than any real, true, living experiences. She had never felt more alive than she had with Ryan. Maybe this was because when she wasn't with him, she was in the car driving somewhere or walking through the snow to school. Losing Ryan wasn't just losing her first boyfriend. In Tabitha's mind, and in her heart, really, it was losing the one thing that made her feel free.

              With Ryan, Tabitha could soar. Nothing mattered besides the time they spent together. They could be apart for hours or for days and as soon she was in his arms, the whole world stopped spinning. Their hearts would collide and their bodies melt into one. To date, Tabitha had never found anything that made her feel that free.

              Once upon a time, Tabitha found completeness and honesty and love in her family, but that was a long time ago. Now the only thing Tabitha got from home was lies and bitterness, a cold harsh reality that her parents cared only about themselves. Dad was completely caught up in his new career and Mom in hers. Tabitha was simply the leftover remnant of a love they had once felt, very long ago, in a time when things were different.

              And none of it was fair.

              Mrs. Miller's car roared to life and she said nothing on the drive home. Tabitha barely noticed the silence during the ride, for her mind was reeling and spinning and swirling about, trying to make any sense of the situation at all. Pain had become such a normal, regular part of her life that Tabitha wondered what she would do if the pain ever subsided. She was sure, at this point in time, that it would not. It would only get worse, she imagined, as Mom and Dad would both begin dating again and Tabitha would eventually gain stepparents who also didn't like her.

              She couldn't do this.

              “Please stop,” Tabitha grabbed Mrs. Miller's arm. “I need you to stop the car.”

              Obediently, Mrs. Miller pulled to the side of the road and Tabitha jumped out of the car. She ran a few feet into someone's yard and began throwing up violently. The vomit seeped from her mouth and melted into the snow covered yard. Tabitha hoped no one would see or notice or care.

              Her body heaved and her stomach ached. Tabitha puked and puked, shocked at the amount of liquid she had stored in her digestive system. When she finally stood again, Tabitha wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and turned back to the car. She slid into her seat and buckled her seat belt.

              “Are you all right, hon?”

              “Yeah. You can take me home now. I'm okay.”

             
Mom was waiting by the front door when Tabitha arrived home.

              “What took you so long? Did you stop somewhere?”

              “Oh, Rhonda, it's fine. I just felt a little sick and stopped to pick up a bottle of Tums,” Mrs. Miller lied.

              “Oh, dear,” Mom's face showed genuine concern. “Are you all right?”

              “Yes, yes, just a bit of indigestion, I suspect. Nothing a bit of rest won't cure.”

              “Well, if you need anything, please let me know. I'm always happy to help.”

              “I know you are, Rhonda dear, I know. Now you,” Mrs. Miller turned to Tabitha. “You take good care of yourself. It won't be
all
bad. You just have to look for the good.”

              Tabitha nodded and Mrs. Miller left the Peterson house. As she walked to her car, she did not look back at Tabitha or her mother. Mrs. Miller simply got in her car and drove away. She was, by this point, positively excellent at goodbyes. After years of being a military wife, the parting of ways barely phased her. This was not always a good thing.

              Tabitha said nothing to Mom as she slid past her in the doorway and made her way upstairs for the last time. Tabitha found it hard to believe that this would be the last time she lived in this house. She might have to come visit for a holiday or something, but she would avoid it if she could. Tabitha had no interest in seeing Mom ever again. Besides, Mom had already mentioned moving into an apartment since she'd be alone now.

              “No need for me to live by myself in this big ol' house,” she said.

              Tabitha walked slowly up the stairs, playfully dodging every creaky stair and taking some stairs two at a time. For a moment, she remembered being a little girl and trying to sneak up and down the stairs as quickly and quietly as her tiny feet would carry her. It hadn't taken long to memorize how many stairs there were and which spots made noise. Eventually, Tabitha had developed the ability to walk up and down the family staircase with her eyes closed and be completely silent about it. The skill had never impressed her parents, but Tabitha had, at one point, been quite proud of her ability.

              At the top of the stairs, Tabitha turned to walk to her bedroom, but took the time to stare at the portraits on the wall. There were traditional, run-of-the-mill family portraits: pictures passed down from generation to generation of grandparents who immigrated and grandparents who lived on farms. There were family pictures of Mom and Uncle Nick detailing their childhood lives, which, apparently, had been pretty exciting and fun. There were even a few pictures of Dad as a kid, though his pictures were all taken in portrait studios and nobody in the pictures smiled. Even Dad, as a toddler with his parents, displayed a prominent frown pasted on his face in his pictures.

             
What a waste,
Tabitha thought to herself, running a finger over the picture.
Even in his youth he was a miserable old man.

              Closer to Tabitha's bedroom, the pictures became more recent. A family portrait of Tabitha, Mom, and Dad at a local amusement park showed them all laughing and having fun one summer afternoon. A photo taken for their church directory was more serious, but still playful and they each had bright smiles on their faces. A dance photo, taken at a recital, showed Tabitha wearing a brillient yellow tutu as she stood on her tippy toes for the camera. Tabitha remembered it well. She had begged Mom to let her join a dance class and, after Mom reluctantly agreed, Tabitha had been to every single practice before the big recital. It had been the highlight of her year, performing on stage. Every eye on her as she danced across the stage, every hand clapping as she finished her last twirl, every hug after the show, Tabitha remember it all.

              She grabbed the picture from the wall and carried it into her bedroom. This was her memory, one she didn't want to forget. Tabitha wrapped the picture in a t-shirt and slid it into a box of clothing. Mom wouldn't care or notice that the picture was gone until it was too late, and even then, Tabitha doubted she would really want it back. Mom hadn't enjoyed the performance very much, thinking it was too “showy” and “gaudy” and not something “appropriate” for a young lady. Bah.

              Tabitha spread a sleeping bag onto her empty bed. Mom had told her it would be best to pack up all her sheets and bedspreads tonight to save time in the morning, and Tabitha had reluctantly complied. Sleeping on her own bed in a cold sleeping bag felt lonely and impersonal and weird. She had grown up in this bedroom. She had been through everything in this bedroom.

              Tabitha pulled Mr. Blue from her backpack and sat down next to the window with the raggedy bear. He had been her companion throughout her entire journey: taking her first steps, losing her first tooth, having her tonsils removed, and now this. The stars shone brightly outside Tabitha's window, and tonight she stared them down. They meant nothing to her anymore. She felt no passion about the sky like she usually did, instead Tabitha's heart felt cold and closed. She wondered if this meant she would grow up to be cynical and mean, but she didn't think so.

              Mrs. Miller believed that people could change and grow up to be okay. She believed that people didn't have to be defined by their circumstances, and Katie often remarked the same thing.

              “Look at me,” Katie had said once. “My dad is dead and I'm still okay. I still feel the pain each morning and every minute of the day, but I don't let it define me and control me. I just use it to motivate me to be a better person.”

              Katie was definitely the very best person that Tabitha knew, and as she stared at the stars twinkling, Tabitha wondered what would become of her friend. She didn't know then that Katie would grow up to be a nationally recognized historian whose work would influence generations to come. She didn't know that Katie would get married and have a little girl she would name Tabitha. Tabitha didn't know, at that moment, as she watched the night sky, that she had not seen the last of Katie Miller. She didn't know that Katie would keep her promise to write and that they would keep in touch for many years, until they were both old and graying. She didn't know that yet, but she would someday.

              Tabitha thought of Ryan, too, and of his influence on her life. He had been so special, and their time together so short. She wondered what would become of Ryan. She didn't know then that he would grow up to be the principal of Mitchell High someday. The students would believe him to be the best principal the school had ever known. Tabitha didn't know that Ryan would also marry or that he would adopt four children. Tabitha didn't know that she would not see Ryan again for many years, but that she would bump into him when she was older, more mature, more ready for the grim realities of life. She didn't know that yet, but she would someday.

              Tabitha adjusted, shifting uncomfortably on her bedroom floor. The room felt unusually chilly and cold. The moon shone particularly bright this evening, casting dancing rays of love and hope into Tabitha's room that felt so empty and dead. She gripped Mr. Blue, hoping he would provide some sort of comfort to her on the long ride tomorrow and in the days to come. The raggedy bear was falling apart. His stuffing was sticking out of his belly and his fur was faded and thin. Mom had already sewn his sleepy, aging bear ears back on twice. Tabitha didn't know if he would even survive her remaining years of high school, but she hoped that he would. She traced his eyes with her finger as he sat in her lap, offering her one last bond of friendship. He was her very last, very best, very closest friend and tonight Tabitha was grateful for his company.

              Tabitha thought then about her parents, who had given her the bear, and she wondered if they would ever get back together, like the divorced parents in movies. She doubted it would happen, and she wondered if it was something she would even want. She didn't know then that Mom and Dad would both remarry and be significantly happy with their new partners. Mom would eventually become the Vice President of Uncle Nick's company and her new husband would work at the same office she did. Dad would have another child with his new wife: a little boy they would name Anthony who would be both handsome and kind. Tabitha didn't know that she would eventually forgive her parents for their decisions this year, but that the pain would linger for years. Their relationships would be forever scarred and she would have difficulty trusting them for the rest of her life. She didn't know that yet, but she would someday.

              As the night grew darker, the moon remained bright: a shining fortress of beauty. Tabitha couldn't take her eyes off of it, and she felt much of her anxiety and anger drift away as she became overwhelmed with exhaustion and sleepiness. She wondered about the days to come. Would the girls at her new school like her? Would she fit in? Would she be the odd one out? Tabitha wondered what this new school would offer and if she would be thankful for the distance it would offer from her parents.              

Tabitha didn't know then that she would eventually grow to love both Texas and her new school. She didn't know that she would excel at her studies or that she would be awarded a full scholarship to a prestigious college. She didn't know, as she watched the moon that night, that she would never get married or have children of her own. She knew only of the pain she felt watching her parents' marriage shred into a million fibers of hatred. She didn't know that the pain would eventually fade away or that she would develop artistic talent as a writer: a writer who would publish several short stories and even a series of novels. Tabitha didn't know that she would become a professor of creative writing or that her work would be studied for years after her death, hailed as some of the most influential and dramatic young literature of her time.

She didn't know that yet, but she would someday.