Echoes Between Us - McGarry, Katie Page 0,67
to drop the class.
“Try harder,” Mom says. “I put you in that class because it was supposed to help your GPA. You’re lucky you’re pulling a low C in English, otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to swim.”
I have a low C thanks to my project work with Veronica, but I’ve been screwed over by a book we’re reading in class. The audiobook was checked out of the public library and Mom refused to spend the money for the one I could buy online. I’m reading, but I’m behind, which has made the quizzes impossible. Pride’s been keeping me from talking with Mrs. Garcia. If my grade drops to a D, though, I’ll be begging for her to give me more time to read.
“Your first meet is this week.” Mom’s voice has hit an annoying high-pitched tone that must be used for dog whistles. “How would you feel if you missed it because of your grades?”
Bad. She knows this, and her being on me isn’t helping.
“You know the school’s rules. Two D’s in a class and you can’t participate in athletics.”
I have the entire school policy memorized.
“Sylvia has had a tough time dating since coming out.” Mom switches the subject, and I can hardly keep up. “She should have great memories of her senior year. Who better to go to homecoming with than you?”
I scrub the hell out of the pan I cooked the hamburger meat in. “How about a girl?”
Mom sighs heavily like I’m stupid and not getting the point. “You know what I mean—as friends. You two are close and she’d have a good time with you. Be a good boy and ask her. While you’re at it, be a great boy and get me the other bottle of wine from the fridge.”
I pick up the empty bottle of wine from the dinner table and toss it into the trash can, but ignore her request. If she wants to drink until she’s so drunk that I have to carry her to bed, then she’s going to have to get up and do it herself. First it was Friday nights, then Saturdays and now Sundays seem to be moving from a two-drink limit to three or four.
“Sawyer,” Mom says. “The wine.”
The scowl on my face speaks more than any words could.
“What? You’re punishing me because I had a bit too much to drink last night?”
She said it. Not me. I rinse a plate and put it in the drying rack.
“I work hard, and I work constantly,” Mom continues. “You were gone and so was Lucy so I made a sandwich for dinner. Excuse me for making the mistake of having a low alcohol tolerance and committing the crime of not having enough in my stomach. I didn’t realize I raised you to be so judgmental.”
“Funny, I thought you did.”
“You need to get over yourself. Your attitude is awful.”
I agree. It is.
“You treat me terribly, you’re treating Sylvia terribly, and I’m betting you’re treating others the same. It will be a wonder if you have any friends left when you graduate.”
She pulls herself away from her laptop, opens the fridge, and gets the wine out herself.
“Will you please set up a weekend to see your father?” As soon as Mom sits, her cell pings and she immediately taps a response. “He’s accusing me of keeping you and Lucy from him, and he’s threatening to take me to court. I already have enough things to worry about, and you’re making my life more difficult by not taking care of this for me.”
“Maybe he’ll pay child support if I don’t go.”
“Maybe he’s holding the child support because you haven’t gone. I do very well for myself, but you and your sister’s extracurricular activities are expensive. That money from him would be helpful. Plus, if you don’t go, then I have to drive Lucy myself, which means time away from work for me. Do you want me to attend your swim meets? Do you think Lucy would like me to watch her at ballet practices, and then be at her monthly Girl Scout meetings? Don’t you think I’d like to be here for dinner more often?”
I mash my lips together because she knows the answer. Yes, we do want her with us.
“Then I have to work so I can take that time off. You realize you haven’t seen your father since this past spring, which means Lucy hasn’t seen him. I’ve got too much going on between work and the two of you to