Chapter 17
Jeremy
It might only be early afternoon, but liquor is giving us a bit of solace right now. We are not heavy drinkers, but today seems to be something different. The circumstances around it have changed, and trying to figure out how to still be close to our father, without causing his discomfort, proves to be more difficult than we thought. We can’t tell him who we are anymore, because it will only make him become agitated and confused. No one wants to pretend to be someone else in the presence of their loved ones, but this is our only option at this point. Drinking this tequila is how we are dealing with that right now.
Aiden should show up at any moment, but Hazel hasn’t mentioned him in hours. Are they still doing okay? Are things not going good back in Massachusetts? I would hope she would confide in me if that’s the case, but what do I know? Something seems amiss when he didn’t come down with her. Or maybe, I am just reading too much into it.
She has been going through the old trunk our dad put together almost a decade ago. His parents left a little behind for him to remember them, and he didn’t want that for us.
“Have you looked through this yet?” she asks, a tequila bottle in one hand, and pictures in the other. “There are pictures all the way back to when dad was a baby.”
I get off the couch and join her on the floor of the living room, digging through the trunk. Memories are sometimes just what you need on a bad day, and who knows what is inside here? The first thing I see a notebook of sorts, and when I opened it, it didn’t stay that way for long. It is our late mother’s diary, but Hazel grabs it from me and begins reading it.
“Would she want us reading this? Isn’t it personal?” I ask, feeling icky about it.
“Diaries are something that women keep to look back on in our lives. If anything, she kept this so she could remember. Aren’t you the least bit curious? What was she like at a young age?”
Regina was someone who cared so much for others. Her role in the world was to become a mother, and there’s no doubt she would be deeply rooted in our lives if she were still alive today. Their marriage seemed like one that had been tested many times, with cruel words from their families, but they loved each other. Nothing was going to come between that, and they didn’t let it. Sometimes we forget how much outside forces can affect our lives and our decisions, but they never let it impact their marriage.
Listening to Hazel read the pages aloud makes me want to see her just one last time. Even though she is not my ‘real’ mother, she has been more of a mother in the short few years than my birth mother was in my entire life. She took a chance on both of us, and without that, we would have bounced between homes until we aged out. When kids age out of the foster care system, the statistics show most end up on the streets, and end up resorting to jobs that land them in jail or prison. Not all, but again just a statistic.
Don and Regina gave us a chance when no one else wanted to keep us, and then became our family. They welcomed us with open arms, and we did not make it easy the first couple of months. But when you are thrown into yet another home you don’t expect to stay at, how do you act? When you are used to being thrown out like garbage or giving to someone else like a secondhand dress, you learn to not exactly get attached to anything. With them, they made it clear from the very beginning their intentions were to keep us until we become adults, and it took us some time to see they were being serious.
“Are you even listening?” Hazel says, and is staring at me.
“Sorry, zoning out. What’d I miss?”
She hands me the diary, and I read it over myself.
Things have not been going as we hoped. We wanted a family by now, and things have not been on our side. I don’t want to be old-fashioned, but my whole life I have wanted to be a mother, and some women don’t need that to live a fulfilled life, but I must admit it’s eating away at me. I never thought this would be an obstacle Don and I would have to tackle, but it’s now presented itself. We might not have kids naturally, but we are exploring other options. We have a lot of love to give, and there are plenty of children out there that need the care and attention we can provide. Don and I have talked about adoption, but becoming foster parents seems like a better serving role for us. These kids need someone who cares for them, and can show them what it is like to have a family. The social worker told us today that many are going to a new home every three to six months, and that’s just absurd. How can one have any type of stability in a life like that? After a long conversation, we have shifted gears and welcome two tweens into our home. Some might think it’s weird for us to ask for older children, but they are the ones that seem lost in the system. My heart broke when the social worker asked if we would house them. She almost seemed shocked that we agreed so fast. Age doesn’t matter to me, it’s getting to make a difference in someone’s life that truly needs it. These kids have been bounced around for years, and have never stayed in a home longer than a couple of months, all moved on to bring in younger children. These kids need someone like us in their lives, and I cannot wait to show them what a true home should be like. I hope they like us.
Reading this from her mind helps me remember what a wonderful woman she was, and how she didn’t care about trivial things. Things like this prove that she is one of the most unselfish human beings I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and we need more like her in this world.
A knock sounds at the door, and Aiden walks in.
“Looks like you have been hitting it a little hard, babe. Should I order some food?”
I try not to pay attention too much because the liquor might cause me to say something I will regret.
“Food sounds amazing. Let’s go to the diner,” Hazel replies, standing up and putting her shoes back on. “Wanna come?”
“No, I think I’m good. You guys go.”
Being in the same room with Aiden right now just isn’t a good idea. So even though I’m starving, it’s best for me to stay here. I need to give the liquor time to purge from my system, and find something to put in my stomach.
They leave, and I start a pot of coffee. If anything is going to help speed this up, it’s caffeine. Work has been very accommodating with the situation, but I still feel bad for having to miss when I’ve only been there for a short time, but it’s not like I expected it to happen this quick. Hell, none of us did.
While waiting for the coffee to brew, I pick up all the pictures off the ground and put them back inside the trunk, wanting to put it back in the closet before making something to eat. So many of them together, and they were so damn happy. When will I find mine?
A knock on the door startles me a bit, not expecting any company, and when I open the door to find Raquel, a smile appears. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
“I figured the day was rough, and wanted to bring you guys an early dinner.” She peers inside, and sees it’s just me.
“Hazel already left? Is that liquor I smell?”
Things are complicated between us right now. She knows how much I like her, and I’ve made that clear since the moment I saw her, but last night, something shifted, and when our lips met, it’s like my heart knew what it wanted. Her. The timing, however, is not correct. She deserves way more from me than trying to screw her while grieving the situation with my father.
“We drank a little. Wanna come inside?” I offer.