My mother lowers her chopsticks. “Oh, really?”
LeeLee nods encouragingly.
I reach into my bag. “I got two acceptances to college.”
My mother freezes.
I pull out the envelopes and lay them on the table. The stamps from Berkeley and Stanford in the upper corner. LeeLee grins. “Oh sweetie! That’s wonderful news! Such a big decision to make.”
I smile, very aware that my mother hasn’t moved an inch. If she’s waiting for another envelope, it’s not going to come. “I know, and I’m really not sure which one to pick, but seeing Stanford today was an eye opener. Although Berkeley is also a good option.” I keep talking although my heart is pounding hard. “I’ve been researching social work programs and Stanford has one.”
That information breaks my mother’s façade. “Social work?”
“Yes.” My hands twist the napkin in my lap. “That’s what I’m considering majoring in.”
She blinks, lifts her glass of wine and takes a slow, large drink, before saying, “And what about Emory? Public health?”
“I didn’t apply,” I confess. “It’s not where I wanted to go or what I wanted to do.”
“Since when?” Her voice rises to a cry.
“I guess since always, Mom. I know that’s what you thought I wanted to do but it’s not—it never was. I don’t want to work in a lab.”
“But social work? That’s not a profitable career.”
“It’s something I’m interested in.”
Her lips form a thin line. “Because of the boys.”
“Because I like helping people. It’s something I’ve learned about myself this year.”
“Star, she has shown an affinity for the service project group at school,” LeeLee interjects. “And honestly, even I was compelled to get involved after understanding more about the foster care system.”
“Mother, you and I both know this isn’t about helping people.” LeeLee frowns but my mother continues. “I tried to be lenient. Let you figure out your own path and not interfere with your relationship with those boys. I like them. I do, but you can’t throw your life away based on people you’ve known for less than a year.”
My grandmother and I make eye contact, the irony and hypocrisy of her statement too much to bear. “Aren’t you the one that took off with a van full of hippies after they drove up to the lodge one summer? Aren’t you the one that left your family, started a new life across the country, including having me?”
“That’s my point. I don’t want you following a boy trying to seek happiness.” Her jaw sets. “Taking off like that with your father was one of the most impulsive, stupid things I could have done. I was looking for freedom and ended up with a—”
Her mouth snaps shut.
“A what?” I ask in a low voice. We all know the answer. She doesn’t say it, so I do. “A baby? Me?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
But of course, it is. Of course, I was the thing that took away her freedom and when I fell apart I did it again, forcing her to teach me at home, be my constant companion. I stare at my mother with the same green eyes, red hair, and pale skin, and realize that I’d trapped her the same way she’d trapped me.
I stand, pushing my chair back. The water in my glass jostles and my mother calls my name as I bolt from the restaurant, tears burning at my eyes. The street is cold, wind blowing off the street. The tall buildings feel claustrophobic and a few moment later I’m already blocks from the sushi place. I open my phone and pull up the app that I’d only put on because Dexter made me. The car with the lit-up sign in the window shows up immediately, like it had been waiting for my call. I see the female driver—her skin brown and her smile nice.
“You sure about the location? It’s going to be pricey.”
I have money in the bank. LeeLee pays me every two weeks. I brush a tear off my cheek. “It’s fine. I have someone I need to see whether he wants to see me or not.”
27
Jake
The first three days are killer—the coaches obviously looking to see who’s too weak to make the cut. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this chance and I have no intention of letting a few aching muscles hold me back.