Worth the Chance (Watertown University #2)

30. Garrett

Chapter 30

Garrett

T he drive to my mom’s house is about three hours. I grew up in southern Connecticut close to where the state line with New York is. It’s a decent sized town, not too big but not too small. The home I grew up in is a cape cod style house. It’s looking a little worse for wear nowadays. I feel a pang in my chest looking at the overgrown lawn and the chipped paint on the siding of the house.

Freshman year I came back for school breaks but when my mom tried to convince me to go to the prison to talk to dad I lost it and haven’t been back since. I tried to explain to her how I didn’t want to see him. How I didn’t need him in my life. I tried to get her to see that she didn’t need him either.

The conversation felt like it went nowhere and I haven’t tried to have it again. Mom and I text occasionally but it’s been surface level the past few years. It hurts sometimes but I know what I need to do to protect myself. Unfortunately I lost sight of that with Eliza but I’ve put myself back on track.

I walk through the front door and I’m surprised to see some of the changes that have been made since I’ve been here last. The walls are brighter like they’ve been painted recently. The old round wood table that sat in the dining room is gone and replaced by a smaller square white one.

“Hi mom.” I round the corner to where the dining room opens into the kitchen and I see my mom stirring something on the stove.

“Garrett.” My mom turns around with a smile on her face. She looks good. Healthier than the last time I saw her. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She puts down her spoon and walks over to me, resting her hands on my elbows.

“You look good.” There’s more color back in her face, more light than the past twelve years. I wonder when that happened.

“Thanks.” My mom reluctantly pulls back. “You do as well.” She studies me for a moment. “But something is wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can see it in your eyes.” Her face flushes slightly as the words leave her mouth. “I’m sorry Garrett. I shouldn’t assume. I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other so I could be off base.”

“No.” I reassure her though it does feel weird to know she can still read me like a book. “There’s been something on my mind but it’s not a big deal.”

“Ahh, okay.” She moves back to the stove to stir whatever is in the pot. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m just finishing up a chili. It should be ready soon.” She looks over her shoulder smiling at me.

I head upstairs and into my old room. This room also has had some updates since I’ve last been here. The full sized bed has a new, blue comforter on it with a darker blue blanket folded neatly at the end. The walls are also an off white color, they look fresh and new compared to the grayish walls that I had growing up. Despite the changes some things remain the same, like the shelves of hockey trophies hanging from the wall .

One of the shelves is void of trophies. Instead it contains a plethora of framed photos. All of which are of me and my little sister. I take in all the different images on the shelf. There’s one from when I first held her, one from the swimming lessons our parents made us take, one of her first day of kindergarten, one of us with our faces painted at the local fair. As my fingers ghost over the frame the memory of that day hits me full force.

Aubree’s one request for her seventh birthday was to get her face painted like a butterfly. Luckily her birthday also landed on the weekend the fair was in town.

Aubree grabs my hand as soon as we make it through the gates of the fair ground. Dragging me through the crowd, following all the painted faces she sees until we find the booth. Our parents trail not far behind, laughing at her excitement.

“What’s it going to be for you?” The face painter asks.

“A blue butterfly!” Aubree claps her hands with a big grin on her face. “And for my brother… a pink one!”

“Aubs, I don’t know about that.” I roll my eyes.

“Please Gar Gar.” She gives me the puppy dog eyes she knows I can’t resist. “It’s my birthday.” She purposely makes her voice wobble on the last word.

“Okay fine. A pink butterfly please.” I smile at the attendant.

“Two butterflies coming right up.”

One month after her birthday we found out that Aubree was sick. Her symptoms seemed to come on quickly but looking back maybe it just seemed that was since I was also just a kid. When we found out and learned Aubree was going to be going through chemo I begged my mom to bring me to the store so I could buy face paint to cheer my sister up. I used up all my allowance money on different paints over the next year. I painted her face at every request. Usually a butterfly, which I got quite good at, but also other things like a mermaid, a fairy, and one time even a dragon. That one wasn’t so good .

My eyes dart to the next and final picture, our first day back on the ice. It was when we thought Aubree was healing. She was finally allowed to go back to skating lessons and she couldn’t have been happier. Unfortunately, she was only able to skate for a few months before the cancer came back and she couldn’t skate anymore. It’s weird seeing the progression of the photos. It’s like she’s frozen in time. Forever eight years old.

My eyes mist over as I remember my little sis. She was such a light in this world. So full of love and sass. Eliza and her would be the best of friends, that I’m sure of. That thought has me letting out a sigh. This girl is trapped in my brain and I’m not sure I want to get her out.

I head to the bathroom in the hall to take a shower and hopefully let the hot water calm my mind. There’s a fresh coat of light blue paint in here and the towels in the closet are fluffy, not the fraying ones we used to have. The shower helps a little. It at least lets some of the tension seep from my bones.

After getting cleaned up and settled, my stomach rumbles and I head downstairs. Mom is plating up two bowls of chili with a side of cornbread. I make my way over to her, grabbing the bowls and bringing them to the table.

“Thank you, Garrett.” She smiles at me. “What would you like to drink?”

“Just water is fine.” She nods and reaches for two glasses from the cabinet, filling them each with a few ice cubes and water from the filter on the fridge.

“So, how’s school?” My mom asks as she places my glass in front of me.

“It’s been good. I took most of my hardest classes last year so it’s not too bad.”

“Oh, that’s good.” We fall into silence. It’s weird feeling this uncomfortableness with my mom. I don’t want to feel it but it’s there. Maybe we can undo it, maybe we can’t but it might be worth a shot.

On Thanksgiving Day I wake up to the smell of turkey and cranberries. I wander downstairs and I’m surprised to find my mom basting a whole turkey while she boils a pot of potatoes on the stove.

“A whole turkey?”

“Good Morning sweetie.” My mom smiles at me and it reaches her eyes. A sight I haven’t seen in years. “It’s a small one.” It doesn’t look that small to me but whatever she says.

“Need any help?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” She shakes her head, pushing the turkey back into the oven and turning her attention to the potatoes. “Just go relax.” She smiles at me again. While relaxing does sound nice I can’t just not do anything so I set the table which doesn’t take very long because there’s only two of us. Then I decide to follow my moms orders and turn on the TV in the living room, putting on the parade. I smile to myself as the floats come across the screen. This was Aubree's favorite part of the holiday.

Two hours later my mom and I sit across from one another with a heaping pile of turkey, mash potatoes, stuffing, green beans and cranberries in between us. I can eat but even this seems a little extreme. Regardless, I load up my plate and go to town.

“Mom, can I ask you something?” I peep up after I’ve devoured half my meal.

“Of course. Anything.”

“Why are you still with dad?” She doesn’t look shocked by the question, almost like she saw it coming.

“Well there’s a lot to that.” She puts down her fork, looking me in the eyes. “When Aubree passed you know how much of a mess I was. He was there at first. He comforted me and reassured me it wasn’t my fault even though it felt like it was.” There’s unshed tears in her eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault mom, it was cancer.”

“Thank you sweetie.” She grabs my hand and gives it a quick squeeze. “But it felt like it was. I wondered if it was my genetics. Did I do this to her? Could I have subjected you to it as well?” She wipes the tears that are pooling in the corners of her eyes.

“Anyways, your dad was there until he wasn’t. He spiraled and went down this dark path. A darker one than me. I couldn’t be there for him and reassure him but I thought by staying I was doing the best I could to support him. I didn’t realize until recently that he blames you for ending up in jail.”

“Well I guess technically it is my fault.”

“Garrett Elijah Moore it is not your fault. It’s the consequences of his own actions. You’ve always had a big heart, you know. Have always known what’s right and wrong. Even when you were twelve and could have said nothing, let him get away with it so you’d have your dad, you did the right thing. You took other people into consideration.”

“He sent me a letter.”

“That mother…” Mom stops herself, putting her hand in front of her mouth and I can’t stop the laugh that barks out of me. She’s always hated foul language.

“He said you stopped seeing him two years ago.”

“I did.” She nods. “It was after you came to visit last. “I saw how much it was destroying you. I’m sorry I didn’t see that years ago.”

“You’ve had a lot to deal with.”

“While that may be true I am still your mother and should have been there for you.”

“Do you still love him?” I have to ask. I have to know. Is someone like him even deserving of love?

“A part of me will always love him. He gave me you and Aubs. He was a decent husband for twelve years. I mourn the loss of who he was but what is love without loss?”

“You have to have loss to have love?”

“It makes love even sweeter. Though ours would be quite a dramatic version of loss. Sometimes losses earlier in your life make you cherish love even more.” I nod, absorbing her words. Love and loss go hand in hand. I hate that. Why can’t love just be all rainbows and butterflies? I don’t want to experience anymore loss, though I guess I am experiencing loss in a way right now. The loss of Eliza.

“So who’s the girl?” My mom raises an eyebrow with a questioning look on her face.

“Who said there’s a girl?”

“Is there not?”

“There is. Well, there was, I guess.”

“You shouldn’t be scared of love, Garrett. I’m sorry you didn’t have the best display of it, your father and I have tainted your view of relationships.”

“I’m scared of destroying someone the way dad destroyed us.” It’s the first time I’ve said the words out loud.

“You are not your father.” She shakes her head. “Your dad never had your consideration for others. While he was comforting for a bit, that wasn’t normal for him. He was always a bit selfish. I knew it when we were dating but I dismissed it, thought it was an only child thing or something and would change when we got married and had kids. It never really did though. He was a good father, a decent husband but he wasn’t the best. There were a lot of strained moments in our relationship because of his selfishness. Do you love this girl?”

“I… I don’t know. I could but what if it all crashes and burns.”

“If you can see yourself loving her then it’s worth the chance.”