We’d finally got him to go up to bed, and even then with Mom trying to tuck him in the questions continued to roll on.
“Just go to sleep Ry, we’ll talk more about it in the morning, OK?”
“I’m not tired,” he said while yawning.
“Go to sleep.” I heard Mom walk towards the door and flip the light off. “Good night, buddy.”
With a soft click she closed the door and walked across the hall to lean on my open door frame. “You going to bed?”
“I don’t know. I guess.” I was tired, but didn’t really think I’d be able to sleep.
“Want some ice cream?” Mom asked with a smile. “We’ve got Magic Shell.”
Needing no further persuasion, I followed her down to the kitchen, and from my usual seat at the table, watched her scoop Oreo ice cream into two bowls. I tried to make it seem like I wasn’t examining her every move, but I was. She seemed far too calm. As though this had just been a normal day.
“So,” I asked, trying my best to sound nonchalant, “You OK with all of this?”
“Well, that’s a bit of a loaded question,” she answered, placing a bowl of ice cream and a bottle of Magic Shell on the table in front of me. “Am I happy that by the end of the week both my kids will be on a different continent?” She sat down across from me, and began absent-mindedly stabbing at her own bowl of ice cream with her spoon. “No, not at all. I am, however, overjoyed that Ryland might finally be getting the help he needs. And I am relieved that you are going with him. You’ll need to make sure you can get the time off work.”
“I’ll only be gone for a week or two, it’s no big deal. I’m a waitress at Eat’n Park, Mom, not a brain surgeon. They’re not going to have any trouble filling my shifts.”
“It’s still a job, which means you need to make sure it’s OK. If they say no, I’ll take Ryland myself.”
“Um, yeah, that is so not going to happen. I’m not letting you anywhere near him.” She knew I didn’t mean Ryland.
“I’ll do what I have to. I can’t let Ry go all that way by himself. He’s still so little…” She left her sentence hanging as she stared off into her bowl.
“I’ll call my boss tomorrow, get the time off, and I’ll go with Ryland. No problem. I’ll take care of him, Mom.”
She smiled up at me, and I could see the tears shining in her eyes. “I know you will, baby,” she said, squeezing my arm. “And what about school?” she asked, clearing her voice, and wiping under her eyes with her thumb. “Are you still going to try and go this spring?”
I had been thinking about it, and while I really did want to go thus far I hadn’t been in any particular rush. Graduating high school at the top of my class at fifteen years old didn’t come without its perks. I’d been offered full scholarships to over a dozen universities, most with what they called standing acceptances, inviting me to enrol with them whenever I was ready.
Mom hadn’t wanted me to go off at fifteen because she had worried I was too young. I agreed with her, not because I truly felt unready, but honestly, because I didn’t want to leave Ryland alone. I was terrified I’d come home for a visit one day, and he’d be gone because Mom had finally broken and let one of them get to her. Of course, I trusted Mom to take care of Ry, but I couldn’t trust the shrinks and specialists not to use her underlying guilt to break her. I had always been there to help her, and, with me gone to college, I wasn’t sure how long she would be able to last.
Not that I could tell her that.
When she asked me about it a few months ago I had momentarily considered starting in the fall, but had let the enrolment deadline pass accidentally-on-purpose, telling Mom I would look into starting in the spring. I’d planned on putting it off another semester, but now, if there was a chance Ryland might finally be happy – and more importantly, safe – I might actually be able to bring myself to go.
“Yeah, but I’ll be home before then. Spring enrolment for most schools doesn’t even start until