Chapter 25

When I woke up the next morning my head was pounding. I moaned and rolled over, hoping to bury my head in John’s chest and sleep a little longer. But John wasn’t there. I opened my eyes and the room was too bright. I blinked and felt along the left side of the bed. Empty.

My eyes finally adjusted to the light and I saw a bright yellow sticky note on the pillow. All it said was “Sorry.” I sat straight up. John’s suitcase that was always in the corner was gone. I stood and looked out the window. His jeep wasn’t parked out front. He really was gone. He didn’t even say goodbye.

I heard a loud groan from the couch and I walked around my bookcase. Valerie was spread out on the couch, squinting and unsquinting her eyes. “Never. Drinking. Again.”

“You can say that again,” I muttered.

She rubbed her eyes, her makeup smearing on her hands. “We didn’t do something stupid like have a foursome, did we?”

I let out a breath. “Not unless the foursome involved something that would cause John to leave.”

“What?” She sat up slowly, holding onto her head.

“I don’t remember much, but I think we had a fight and all I have to show for it is a sticky note on my pillow.”

She shook her head. “I’m too hungover to discuss this now, but after breakfast, we will analyze this the whole way home.”

I hadn’t really shopped for groceries since I knew I would be going home, which meant nothing for breakfast, but that was fine with Valerie. Her idea of cooking was picking out a new restaurant anyway. We stopped at a little diner not far from campus. It was open 24 hours and was always crawling with students. But this morning it was empty.

By the time Valerie downed two cups of coffee and ate half her omelet, she finally talked. “Okay, Mel, spill.”

I forked my bacon. I wasn’t really hungry, but Valerie swore that greasy food cured a hangover and my head was pounding. “Spill what?”

She clanked her spoon against her coffee cup, pouring another pound of sugar into it. “What the hell happened with you and John? You two were all over each other on the dance floor and then he just leaves you a sticky note? That does not sound like the same guy.”

“How would you even know what was going on at Gatsby’s? You were all over Brad.”

I looked up as Valerie rolled her eyes. “Oh come on. Don’t put this on me. So I made out with one of John’s random frat brothers. It didn’t hurt anyone and I didn’t care that he left. You actually love this guy.”

I almost choked on my bacon and had to pound my fist against my chest. “I never said that I love John.”

“Yeah, but you do. That’s as plain as day. You need to stop being such a girl about it and get rid of whatever is holding you back and fall in love with full force.”

“Even if I did love him, it takes two people to be in love and by the way he left last night I’m not sure he feels the same way.”

Valerie clanked her spoon on her mug. “Seriously, stop with the pitying. Is this what you did last night to make him leave?”

I could feel the tension building up and I put my hands into tight fists. “No, he left because I did what you said. I wanted to sleep with him and he turned me down.”

She blinked. “Ex squeeze me? Did you just say that the guy that was practically screwing you on the dance floor turned down sex?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Could it have been because you just had another procedure done? Or maybe because you were so drunk that you could barely walk and he didn’t want to do that to you?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t feel that bad after the biopsy and I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Puh-lease. You kept telling me that you were white girl wasted and fell into a garbage can outside the bar.”

“No I didn’t.”

Okay, so that might have explained the bruise on my hip. It still didn’t excuse John for just leaving a sticky note. He had stayed with me through a lot worse things than drunken stupidity.

“Whatever, Mel. It was nice to see you let go, for once, but it was like you still couldn’t get over your insecurities. Just let the boy love you and stop over thinking. I promise that you’ll be much happier.”

“Whatever you say, Val.”

* * *

Valerie chatted most of the way back to our mom’s in Princeville, but I was busy checking my phone. I wanted to text John, but I didn’t know what to say. If I really was as drunk as Valerie said I was, who knew what else I probably did. Which made the forty five minute ride home seem like it took even longer when I just kept thinking about all of the stupid things I probably did.

My parents bought a ranch home in a wooded subdivision when it was first built. I was just a little kid when we moved there and was so excited to get out of a tiny apartment and into a place with sidewalks and a fenced in back yard with a wooden swing set. Thirteen years later and the place had lost its luster. It also didn’t help that the more my parents fought, the more the house took the brunt of it. Our grass had long been dead and the siding was more of a beige color than white. It was almost embarrassing to pull up to the house.

“Home sweet home,” I muttered.

“She really needs to just sell this place and get something with less maintenance,” Valerie said, stepping out of the car and grabbing her bag out of the back.

“Agreed. But she never will.”

After the divorce we tried to get mom to get a condo or even just an apartment but she kept saying she would never move. She fought for the house in the divorce and said that she wasn’t going to get rid of something that was paid for.

Mom was still at work when we got there, but at least the house was clean. Last time we went home, she had boxes stacked in the entry way and dirty dishes all over the kitchen. It looked like she got over whatever funk she was in and the house was actually looking a lot better. The living room was freshly painted a light gray color and where it opened to the kitchen, she had new tile laid down. The beige carpets didn’t look like they needed to be vacuumed badly and the hallway to our bedrooms and bathroom was clear of any laundry or other obstacles.

“Looks like mom cleaned up,” Valerie said.

“Yeah.”

I stared at all that she had accomplished, even in my bedroom. She had always left it just as is after I’d left, even though I basically cleared everything out to move, but this time it looked like she had rearranged. The futon I slept on was made with a clean, white quilt and she had a small book shelf and desk to the side of it with some real estate books sitting next to her ancient laptop. I guess my room was doubling as an office. An office she was using to possibly study for her real estate license.

“Hey Val?” I yelled.

Valerie’s old room was right next to mine so she was over in a few seconds. “Yeah?”

I picked up one of the books on the desk. “Is mom dating a realtor or is she becoming one?”

Val raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t she tell you? She’s been studying her ass off to take the exam.”

I shook my head. I had been so wrapped up in my own world that I missed out on what my mom was doing. “No. I guess I’ve missed out on a lot.”

I set the book down and Valerie grabbed my hand. “Hey. You’ve had a lot going on. There’s no reason to think you were doing something wrong by not knowing.”

Tears stung my eyes as I looked up at Valerie. “How long have I been so selfish?”

“Honey, you aren’t selfish.”

I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “No, I am. I may have gone through some shit this year, but that didn’t mean that I had to bury myself in my own pity party. When Mom was going through all that stuff with Dad, I should have been there more for her instead of just running off to school and busying myself with work. I should have called you more when you first moved to Chicago. I should have listened to John instead of just thinking about what I wanted from him.”

“Oh, sis, sometimes it’s okay to be selfish. You’ve had a hard year.” She pulled me into a hug and I let her.

“I know. But I promise that things are going to be better. They need to.”

Valerie rubbed my back. “I don’t expect anything of you, little sis. I just want you to be you and I think that’s all anyone wants. Free yourself of all of those thoughts that everything needs to be a certain way and let go. Enjoy the moment.”

Let go. That’s what John had told me over and over. Maybe if I did let go I would have noticed what was going on around me. It was finally time to let go of my insecurities and move on. Cancer and boys be damned.

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