Standing In Shadows - 21. Chapter 21

SIS 21

The next morning I rolled over to find a warm body next to me. I heard him grunt before I opened my eyes. When I did he smirked over a bite of buttered toast and jam. I had draped my arm over his leg, my hand landing squarely in his lap.

“Sorry,” I groaned sitting up on the bed, pulling his white cover over my morning wood. I rubbed the sleepiness out of my eyes before turning towards him.

“Want some toast?” He asked and I glanced down at the plate. He had only one slice left, and that had been the one he had taken a bite of already.

“No thanks,” I answered, rolling my eyes. “If you were going for the breakfast in bed angle, you know you’re supposed to wake me up and not eat my food.”

“I wasn’t,” he said, trying not to smile. “I was hungry.”

“I’m not much of a breakfast person,” I said when he slid the plate with the toast towards me. Then he shrugged and grabbed the plate back and finished the piece of toast himself. “What time is it?”

“‘Bout eleven,” he said, his mouth full.

“My mom call any?” I asked looking down at my new cast remembering what happened yesterday. I felt sorry for her, having to deal with all this, Dad’s mood about the move especially. I shook my head thinking I caused more trouble, blushing that it was over a tiny dog that I hadn’t really had to myself for a full day yet.

“Yeah, that’s what woke me up, you just kept on snoring,” Clinton said, “she told me that she’ll be here around noon to pick you up.”

“Ok,” I groaned, not liking that she was picking me up. It seemed lame, that Mom had rescued me last night with a sleepover away from Dad, now she was picking me up from it. I wondered where my car got to, if I even still had one, the way Dad was selling my stuff. Remembering the motorcycle caused me to sigh and I saw Clinton studying me.

“You could probably tell her that you need more time,” Clinton said, “I think she’d understand, more time for us too.”

“The sooner I get it over with, the better,” I said, “the longer Dad sits around, not able to have his say the more he says when he finally gets to.”

“I think after last night he won’t, I saw the look on your Mom’s face,” Clinton said, “she looked fit to kill something.”

“Did she?” I asked, “The only expression I got from her was of her trying not to cry.”

“Well she did see your bruises,” Clinton said as he stood with the glass plate in his hand. He patted his stomach and chest clean of bread crumbs. I stood and followed him through his bedroom door and down the stairs. Both of us just in our underwear didn’t feel strange until I was in his kitchen. The sun streaming into the windows and the glass door leading out to the back yard hurt my eyes.

“This summer has sucked since it started,” I sighed and he shot me a look. I chewed my bottom lip realising what I had just said. “It has it’s good parts too.”

“Right,” he said as he placed his plate on the counter next to the deep chrome sink. “I guess a lot of the bad has out done the good so far.”

“Yeah,” I said, not wanting him to fall into a bad mood, even if I could feel that I was already falling into one myself. I wanted him to smile, not worry about things. I didn’t want to be responsible for ruining his summer, when mine has fallen to crap.

“When is Keith and Andy due back?” Clinton asked, leaning against the counter. I noticed him tapping his fingers against the granite counter tops.

“Next week, I guess,” I answered shrugging. I didn’t really know how long the camp lasted, but I knew it had to end before Dad’s summer workouts and drills started. No one was allowed to miss out of those unless they were dead and football was just important enough here that he got away with that.

“You’ll probably want to hang out with them,” he said and he pushed himself off the counter and started towards me. I was standing in the wide space that led to the stairs back up to his bedroom or to the living room.

“I’ll have Dad’s summer workouts soon,” I said, “I never really have hung out with anyone outside of school a whole lot during the Summer.”

“Right,” he said as he started to step around me. I grabbed his arm, just above his elbow. I could tell he wanted to jerk it out of my grasp, but he didn’t.

“What happened to all that talk last night?” I asked my face flushing, remembering the promise we made to one another to not let everything else get in the way.

“It was just talk, right?” He answered and I saw the Clinton I remembered. The one snickering at whatever comment Cj had made. “I mean, we can’t really believe any of it.”

“Why not?” I asked letting go of his arm. He stood facing me though, the same hardened expression.

“Too much stacked against us,” he answered, “it was just easier to say when it was dark and you were next to me in my bed. Thinking about it now, we really have no way to…”

“So you don’t even want to try?” I asked, interrupting him. I wasn’t the cause of his bad mood, his own thinking was. How long had he been awake thinking about it, I didn’t know. I just hoped I could turn it around. The thought that I actually wanted to take the time as well surprised me. It meant that I really had considered being close to Clinton. That I had decided to trust him wholly. That I would possibly forgive him if he had moments of the old Clinton again, especially when he was around Cj. Someone I knew he wouldn’t give up, not even for what he wanted with me.

“Yes,” he whispered, “I do.”

“Alright then,” I said, offering him a smile. I turned to face him fully and I quickly leaned in and kissed him on the lips. I tasted strawberry jam, it caused my stomach to growl. I felt him smile, then he stepped away.

“Should’ve had that toast, it was good,” he said then he looked at the clock on the microwave. I noticed that it was half past eleven. Mom would probably be early, she hardly ever was right on time. I sighed and he followed me up the stairs. I grabbed the bag of clothes Mom packed for me and dressed. He put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt as well. Then we went back down stairs, he turned on the television and he took a seat at the other end of the couch, leaving the middle spot completely empty and we prepared for Mom to knock on the door.

We both heard the car door close. I smirked, looking that it was ten minutes until Noon. We both stood and walked to the front door, Mom’s first knock coming just as we had arrived. I let Clinton open it, he opened it wide enough for Mom to see the both of us.

“Good morning boys,” she said and I grimaced. I glanced at Clinton and saw a grimace, probably identical to mine on his face. Mom laughed, rolling her eyes. I scanned her for any signs of trouble, but she was probably masking it while Clinton was around.

“Good morning,” Clinton greeted, offering her a smile. Mom returned it then looked over at me.

“Ready to go?” Mom asked and I glanced at Clinton.

“Yeah,” I said and I grabbed the bag that had my clothes off the end table by the door. “See you later Clinton.”

“See ya,” he said and Mom gave him a short wave and another smile.

When we got to the car, I saw Clinton still watching from the open door. I opened the car door and slid in. That’s when I heard the whimpering from the back seat. I turned around and saw Trouble jumping, trying to get over the arm rest to me.

“Maybe we should let Jenny find her a new home,” I said as I reached back and scooped her up. She sniffed around my cast, chewing in the rim of plaster around my thumb. Mom smiled down at the small dog.

“She fits,” Mom said, “your father won’t give you any more trouble over her, believe me.”

“Ok,” I said, closing the door. I glanced back towards the house, to see the front door closed. I glanced around at Mom to see her studying me.

“You boys have fun?” Mom asked, smiling as I grimaced again. “You’ll always be my little boy, get used to it.”

“Yeah we watched movies for a while,” I lied, hoping my voice sounded as normal as I thought it did.

“I still don’t really trust that boy,” she said as she backed out of the driveway. “I guess I just don’t understand teenagers much anymore.”

“Clinton was never as bad as Cj, I think most of it Clinton did was because of Cj anyway,” I said shrugging my shoulders. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“Just don’t get up to any trouble,” Mom said, reaching over and rubbing my shoulder.

“I never do,” I offered looking down at Trouble, her ears had perked up, seemingly already knowing her name and she had momentarily stopped chewing on my cast.

It was a short drive from Clinton’s house to the apartment building. I knew I would have to face the building soon. I had never been inside any of them. I had no idea what they looked like on the inside. The state of the outside didn’t leave much hope. The old brick was chipped and cracked in places. The second story had been painted white, but that was chipped and it once had a balcony in the front, but that had been ripped down a long time ago. Only the outline of it was left. The white paint looked grey and a lot of it had weathered away from the brick, leaving it uneven. The building definitely was an eyesore. Cj’s father never really cared for it. It didn’t make him enough money for him to put money into it. The only people who would live in apartments in this small town anyway, would be the ones that had to.

Mom parked in the narrow lot, just behind my car. It was a tight squeeze and I was already dreading it. The rusty metal stairs groaned and creaked when we went up them. The spaces between them were open and I feared Trouble falling from them. The door was metal and heavy looking. It was black, but dented in places, especially around the doorknob. I wondered how many times it was broken into. Mom had to push with her shoulder to get the door open. I saw the grimace on her face and I felt my own getting hot. Mom didn’t deserve a place like this.

When the door finally gave way, it creaked open and I followed her inside. I instantly smelled cleaning chemicals, lemon mixing with the smell of bleach, and a floral scent. I looked around and saw that a small kitchen counter separated it from the living room. It was an ugly yellow-white color. The wood under it was scratched and cracked in places. The kitchen Table was pushed against one wall, only two of the chairs were accessible. I noticed that the stove wasn’t ours from back home and that the fridge was blocking the view out of a small window. I didn’t ask about the stove, knowing that it probably wouldn’t have fit into the tiny space the one currently there was in.

The living room carpet was thin and dark grey. Like the kitchen table, the couch took up most of the space. I noticed the end tables and the long coffee table that usually sat in front of the couch were gone as well. The wallpaper was a rough looking solid yellow color that nearly matched the kitchen counter tops. It went through the entire apartment as far as I could tell standing at the front door. The trim that held it up broke away in some places. Trouble was squirming, trying to get me to put her down so she could explore the place.

I glanced at Mom and saw the tears in her eyes. I offered her a smile and she patted me on the shoulder.

“Your room is on the end down the hall, the bathroom is between your room and ours,” Mom said, her voice on the edge of sounding weak. I closed the door behind me and put Trouble down as Mom turned to lead me through the rest of the apartment. I reached out for her, catching her by her shirt sleeve, like I did when I was a small boy. When she turned I closed the distance and wrapped her into a hug. I heard her gasp and her arms went around my waist. I heard her whisper, apologizing for me having to live in a place like this. I wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter, but the knot in my throat didn’t allow me to speak.

“It won’t last,” I said when I finally fought back my own sadness. “It’s not so bad.”

“It sucks,” she countered and the tone of her voice and the words she always grimaced over when I used it caused me to laugh. She stepped out of my hug, offering me another smile. My blue shirt was moist where she had cried into it. “But I do have one surprise.”

“Yeah?” I asked, glancing around the small living room as she led me down the narrow dark hallway.

“The light in the hallway doesn’t work,” Mom said, frowning at the overhead light, “some electrical problem, sparks went everywhere, it nearly scared your father to death when he tried it.”

“Probably would be funny to see Dad scared,” I whispered, not knowing where in the house Dad actually was. I knew he was here somewhere, his truck was parked out front. I was surprised when he didn’t ambush me at the door.

I continued to follow Mom to the back bedroom, where I would be staying. I only glanced in the bathroom and saw a standing shower, a small sink with no vanity mirror, and a bulky toilet. The bleach and chemical smell was stronger here, but it didn’t look so bad. I couldn’t see into Dad and Mom’s room when we passed, the door was closed.

“I know it’s not much,” she said as she turned the door and let it swing open. I stepped past her and she followed me into the room. I turned away from her searching eyes as I looked over the room. It was larger than my room back home. I had anticipated boxes everywhere with my things still in them, but it had all been unpacked. The two end tables that were in living room back home were now on either side of my bed, along with the lamps that had been on them. In the corner I saw that all of Trouble’s things had been unpacked from her bag as well. Her leash was hanging over her bed, just out of her reach when she went to sniff around. Her food and water bowl were next to the wall and her toys were piled in her bed. My trophy shelf along with all my trophies and game balls were hung on the wall and my dresser was opposite of the room from my bed. Everything was laid out just like it had been back home, but the larger room didn’t make it look as cramped and cluttered as before.

“It’s nice,” I said, noticing that Mom looked relieved when I turned to look at her.

“It will do, right?” She asked, looking happy for the first time since she started the small tour.

“I don’t know why you’re fussing over him Cora,” Dad groaned from the hallway. Mom squared her shoulders and shot him a look as he entered the room. I noticed his stiff gait and he held his hand over his lower back.

“Go back to bed you grouchy thing,” Mom said, shaking her head.

“I’m hungry,” Dad whined grimacing, then he looked at my new cast. My heart skipped when he opened his mouth, but he didn’t say anything.

“The kitchen is down the hall and through the living room, you can’t miss it,” Mom said and Dad shot her a look, but he just turned on his stiff legs and walked back out the door.

“What happened to him?” I asked, and Mom looked at the door smiling.

“I made him round up the real people that were supposed to help him, to get the heavy stuff in,” Mom answered, crossing her arms. “Then I made him unpack everything, put it all away by himself, then I made him clean the kitchen and the bathroom, he sort of threw his back out on the fridge, but I made him sleep on the couch anyway.”

“Mom,” I said shaking my head.

“Your father will never act that way again,” Mom said glaring at the open door. “I doubt his back could handle it.”

“It wasn’t really…” I started, but she shot me a look that I rarely ever saw cross her face. It was close to some of the looks Dad had for me, when I didn’t do something right on the football field. On her it packed more power than any of his ever did.

“Do not defend him Corey,” Mom hissed, “what your father did yesterday was inexcusable, if I truly didn’t love his sorry… Well let’s just say, if I didn’t and we had somewhere else to go, we would have.”

“You will forgive him right?” I asked my heart sinking when I saw the anger and the sadness mixed on her face. I wondered just how bad the situation was and how much all this stress and our new situation was weighing on them both.

“Yes,” she answered offering me a smile, “when he’s suffered enough.”

“And when will that be?” I asked, relieved at the lightness in her voice.

“That depends on your father being able to behave himself,” Mom answered and she turned and left the room. I sighed absentmindedly scratching my stomach as I looked around. Mom had tried really hard to make it feel like a space I would be comfortable in. But the room or even the apartment itself wasn’t the problem. She knew me better than that, too. This was just a small gift, one that she could give me now, probably all that she could offer me in a place like this. She also knew that it wouldn’t work. That my real anxieties didn’t live within these walls, but with the three of us. I didn’t know how long it would take to get out of here, I really didn’t want to think about it either. I just hoped that when we did, we were still in one piece.

Stepping out of my room, Trouble bouncing behind me with the toy still in her mouth. I walked down the dark hallway and paused to peek inside Dad and Mom’s bedroom. I saw the rumpled sheets on the bed, it was pushed to the corner against the wall. I stepped to the door frame to take in the entire room. I frowned, my breath hitching as I took in the rest of the room. They had no closet, just a metal bar for their clothes to hang on. There was no room for any dresser or tables, because this wasn’t really a bedroom at all. It was just a space large enough for their bed and the washer and dryer. A bedroom forced inside of a laundry room. I looked over my shoulder and I watched as Mom fixed Dad a sandwich while he stepped around her and hobbled to the kitchen table, a can of beer in his hand. I turned and walked into the living room, seeing me, Mom offered me a smile, but it faltered and when I opened my mouth to say something she shook her head. Then she put Dad’s sandwich on a plate and put it in front of him. He didn’t thank her as he took a bite, he barely even looked at her and she barely looked at him.

My fear hit me squarely in my chest and the iciness spread throughout my body. I wanted to run from the place, but I knew if I did, it would hurt Mom and she had hurt enough. I looked away, hoping to hide, but there wasn’t enough room to hide here. I wouldn’t be going back to my bedroom until I had to. I wouldn’t be comfortable while she suffered. I wouldn’t let her see me break again either.

“What’s wrong with you, Corey?” Dad asked, finally noticing me in the living room.

“Nothing,” I answered, turning to look at him. I saw the smirk playing on his mouth.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Dad said, raising an eyebrow.

“Leave him alone,” Mom said and she swatted him on the shoulder. I saw him wince and glare at her, but she couldn’t see it, still standing behind him.

“I don’t think he likes his room Cora,” Dad countered, his voice hardened, but quiet as well. “Knowing that you’re sleeping in a room that smells like a damn locker room.”

“I’ll not have my son falling asleep to the sight of your dirty underwear,” Mom countered, crossing her arms. “We’ll be just fine Corey, don’t worry about us.”

“He’s a good son, thinking about your feelings Cora,” Dad said offering her a smile. The compliment didn’t sound like one and I knew it wasn’t meant to be one either. I could see his eyes measuring me and finding me weak again. “I tried to tell you this when we were putting his bed together.”

“This will only be for a little while,” Mom said, stepping around the kitchen counter towards me. I wanted to shrink away from her. I knew that if she hugged me or anything that it would amuse and annoy Dad.

“He’ll be off to college before we get out of here,” Dad said, glancing down at Trouble still chewing on her toy in front of the front door. He frowned, but didn’t say anything, he knew that she would be here. “It will do him some good to sleep in a small room, dorms aren’t that large.”

“You’re just trying to make him feel bad,” Mom said, patting me on the shoulder turning to glare at him. “Remember what I said last night, I meant what I said.”

“The boy is seventeen years old, Cora,” Dad countered, “you treat him like a little child.”

“And last night you treated him like a punching bag,” Mom hissed, she reached over and pulled my shirt sleeves up. I saw Dad study the bruises that he left, then he frowned, the coldness leaving his eyes. Then Mom caused me to jump when she pulled up my shirt to my neck, stepping out of the way so Dad could see the two round bruises the palm of his hands made on my chest. Seeing those bruises Dad looked away, slamming his half eaten sandwich down on the plate. “This mess is our mess Lee and you took all of your frustrations out on him last night, and over a dog of all things.”

“You’ve told me this already Cora,” Dad said and for the first real time I heard him sound defeated.

“Then stop trying to make him feel bad about the larger room,” Mom said then she turned on me. “And you, don’t worry about where I’m sleeping.”

“I’ll try not to,” I offered and she shook her head.

“Good,” she said, “It’s summer, I want you out of the house.”

“But,” I started, then sighed.

“Your Father will be getting things ready for football in the coming weeks and the new semester, I have a few job interviews,” Mom said smiling. “I know this place isn’t nice and it will never feel like home, just think of it as a place where we’ll be coming to sleep at night and prepare for another day.”

I looked over her shoulder at Dad. He didn’t seem to share Mom’s optimism. His shoulders were slumped over and he was staring towards the front door. For the first time I found myself agreeing with him. This wasn’t going to be temporary and that I likely would be going to college before we were moved out of here. For the first time I felt sorry for both of them instead of just Mom. He frowned when he caught me staring, but he only stood and put his plate in the kitchen sink, stretching some of the stiffness from his body. Then he looked back at me and I knew that neither of us would make this difficult on Mom.

“Well better get a shower and get more of this paperwork straightened out,” Dad said, scratching his stomach as he walked around the counter. He nudged Trouble out of his way by the front door with his foot, then he stepped around Mom and shouldered past me.

“We’ll be busy all day, you should go hang out with some friends,” Mom said. I was beginning to realize that she wanted me out of the house so she could somehow shield me from the stress all this was putting on them. “When you come home, park in the public area next door, we’ve already been warned about having too many cars in the private lot.”

“Ok,” I said as she handed me the keys to her car.

“And call me if you’re going to be late,” She said then she stood on her tip-toes to kiss me on the cheek. Then she stepped around me and walked through the tiny living room towards the hallway. Trouble looked up at me when I walked towards her, bending over to pick her up, disrupting her play. Not wanting to push Dad by leaving her here.

“Oh right, you probably need some food,” I said, shaking my head I hurried down the hall to my room. I quickly put everything she would need into a plastic bag. She seemed to understand that she was going on another trip. When I walked past the bathroom I heard Dad whistling as he showered, then I paused at their bedroom door. Mom had shut it behind her, but I smiled when I heard her singing what sounded like the same song to herself.