Unlikely Hero Read online

  ***

  Mom and Tim talked for hours. They slowly healed each other. It seemed to have happened quickly, too quickly for me, but they actually got married. They decided on their six month anniversary of having their first coffee that it was time. They asked me for my blessing. I didn’t have the heart to deny her the happiness she deserved so I acquiesced with a quick nod. Put on the pretty dress she bought me and followed them, albeit a bit reluctantly, into the small Methodist Chapel they chose and watched as my mother began to glow again, and Tim…Tim beamed. We went out to Prado, an upscale Italian Restaurant, afterwards for a nice meal and celebrated.

  They decided to postpone their honeymoon. They told me they would rather get settled in. But I knew better. They didn’t go away because I was still such a burden and they were afraid to leave me alone.

  So, you would think the pressure would ease up on me. You would think having each other, maybe, just maybe, that they had better things to do with their time. Wrong. I now had two of them looking over me, watching me and listening to me.

  Dear Lord.

  I could hear them whispering and mumbling when they didn’t think I could hear. They would quickly change the subject, blurting out fragmented sentences that made no sense, like the weather conditions, the heat, depressing dampness, whenever I walked in on their conversations. It was so obvious I almost laughed, but that would have been totally out of character for me and I feared they would whisk me off to yet another doctor.

  They would exchange awkward glances when they didn’t think I noticed. I knew they were worried. I got that. I knew I was the one that made them feel uneasy. I made them both feel this way and it was because of that that she and Tim started planning their little strategy. Making plans for the future. My future. Life changing plans.

  My mom had recently contacted her friend Fran, who she used to work with some time ago, and who had been working for this big accounting firm in New York City.

  Fran told mom that while she was working in the Tampa Florida office, a position opened in the New York City location, which was perfect for her. She had her interview and before she knew it, the New York office offered her the job. Fran told mom the move was seamless and it was the best thing that ever happened to her. She was happy for the opportunity and never looked back.

  Of course, her nasty divorce and the fact that her ex-husband was living with the woman he cheated on her with, in our town, the town she once lived with him in, had something to do with that I’m sure.

  My mom, in a desperate and bold move, told Fran about “the situation” at home. Fran told mom the firm was looking to hire a head accountant. She went on and on about it, trying to convince mom she would be great for the position. Fran finally talked my mom into coming up to New York for an interview and quickly set it up.

  Three days later Mom flew to New York, leaving Florida in the morning, interviewing in New York City, and getting home later that day. Two days later she was offered the position of head accountant, along with a $5,000 stipend toward moving expenses. That was the first time, in a very long time, I saw my mom excited.

  Seeing her that excited was kind of fun and brought back memories of when she always smiled.

  Mom is really good at her job. She is an extremely dedicated, hardworking person. She put aside work to raise me, always taking immense pride in her family. She didn’t go back to work until I was ten years old. She got a position with the same accounting firm she worked for before getting pregnant with me, and she was quickly promoted. She shot right to the top.

  From time to time she get offers from the companies she did accounting work for. But mom was loyal and wouldn’t leave her company.

  Tim makes a pretty good living too. He is a really good contractor and contractors always do well. It was the kind of work that would enable him to work just about anywhere. So before I knew what was really happening, Mom and Tim had us all moving to New Jersey.

  Are they serious?

  I mean what were they thinking? Really? New Jersey? What the hell is in New Jersey? I can barely hold it together in Florida, my home for my whole life, how was I going to get my act together in a place foreign to me in every way.

  ***

  So here I am one month after they got married, dealing with a new step-father, a new family life and a new state to live in. Holy cow. It’s April, Spring break is almost over and it’s time for me to start over. Ugh!

  New Beginnings

  Chapter 6

  I opened my eyes. The sun so bright, it was painful, as it found it’s way through my eyelids, penetrating my brain and hurting my head. I had been really dreading this day, so getting out of bed was not something I looked forward to. Not even a little.

  New house.

  New school.

  New STATE.

  Overwhelming.

  I was feeling depressed. More depressed than I was willing to let mom and Tim know. They get all weird and nervous when they think I’m slipping into a depression again. My mom get’s that panicky look in her eyes, and she watches everything I do. It’s really quite annoying to say the least. So most of the time, I walk around with a fake semi-smile plastered on my face, try to talk to them like everything is wonderful. I try to act normal.

  This was done primarily to prevent them from sending me to anymore “Doctors”. Also, they…well… my mom, was so excited about having a new start for us I just couldn’t let her know how miserable I really was.

  My mom was always there for me, has always done everything for me, always putting me first. She is my only friend at this point. So when she said she “knew” this would be the best thing for us all, I didn’t tell her – ‘not for me’.

  It also helped knowing that Florida was just too painful for them both, and that getting as far from there as possible was what she thought we all needed, what I needed, and who was I to judge her after all that I put her through. It’s not like I had a sterling life in Florida.

  I’m always amazed when I look at my mom. She is really beautiful and not only on the outside, but on the inside too. Not in the glamorous movie-star kind of way. She has a great figure, she is tall, has long legs, pretty shoulder length light brown hair and bright blue eyes. She isn’t thin like me. She has curves where they are supposed to be and looks much younger than she is. Anywhere we went she always received compliments. Men think she is pretty. They would tell her she looked liked my sister, “couldn’t possibly be my mom”. Of course this made mom happy. She was never one who would pass over a good compliment.

  All said, she was pretty, fun and smart.

  I possessed none of these qualities.

  She has this weird ability to be silly and serious at the same time, her smile would light up a room whenever she walked in. I don’t know if you have ever been around someone like this, but you can literally feel the energy in the room. She is infectious and the only person in the world I truly love.

  Ok, so I wasn’t at all like my mom. Even before… I was never the most popular girl; never will be. For me, it was hard to make the few friends I did have back in Florida before that night. I certainly didn’t want any new friends in New Jersey. I kind of stayed to myself in Florida and I plan to do the same here in New Jersey. I’m a loner. So what’s changed?

  Everything.

  And nothing.

  Enough with the self-pity party, it’s not going to change a thing, besides I need to get up and get ready…it’s a school day. A new school…a new start, yeah right. I’m actually feeling sick thinking about it.

  I took a quick shower and pulled on a pair of jeans – my most comfortable pair, the pair with the hole in the knee. I matched them with a plain white tee shirt. After all I wasn’t dressing to impress. I let my hair dry naturally. I really didn’t care how I looked so I just threw it up in a ponytail and shoved my feet into my sneakers. I couldn’t be bothered with make-up. It wasn’t my thing.

  “Amber, if you would just put on little blush and a little mascara, not a lot” mom would plead. I think it was just cause she wanted to spend some ‘girl’ time with me. She never neglected to tell me she thought I was beautiful just the way I was, but I could see she was starved for mom and me time. “Just enough to make your beautiful eyes stand out” she continued, “It will make you feel better, more confident.”

  “Next time mom.” I looked at her and half smiled, “I’m not exactly trying to garner attention today…okay?” I smiled through my unadorned lashes.

  She knew I was right. She knew I wouldn’t bother with make-up. I didn’t care if I was attractive to anyone – especially boys.

  Long straight brown hair, tugged up in a band.

  Eyes that are pale blue and too big, almost buggy.

  I was plain.

  Pale and plain.

  Pale, plain and thin.

  Too thin to be considered “hot” by any of the boys, and definitely not a threat to any girls, therefore safe.

  Safe and unnoticeable.

  Stealth.

  That’s what I liked... stealth.

  That’s me.

  Stealth.

  I mean I might as well be invisible… people usually don’t even notice I’m there.

  I kind of liked it like that.

  I never liked any attention.

  So there, that’s my life.

  My brand new life.

  Ha! I’ll remain stealth.

  I grabbed my pocketbook and headed down the stairs. Mom had already kissed me goodbye and left for her new job. I looked at Tim, sitting at the breakfast bar talking on the phone, newspaper opened in front of him. I leaned over grabbing a piece of cinnamon toast from the plate on the counter and shoved it in my mouth. I took a long draw on a cold glass of milk I’d poured myself and put the em
pty glass in the sink. I waved turning and walked out the door heading down the street in the direction of my new school.

  It was springtime in Summit, New Jersey and it was really pretty here. The air was crisp and cool. Not hot and humid like Bellaire Beach. I was glad for the long sleeves though since I left my jacket on the bed. There was a definite chill in the air.

  I had gone over the route to school with my mom and Tim just yesterday and it was just a few blocks down and a few more to the right.

  I was going to be finishing my junior year of high school attending Summit High. The school consisted of separate brick buildings, each with tall narrow windows scattered over a small but neat and pretty campus. It was hilly and green and the spring flowers were all beginning to poke out of the ground. I read in the “welcome” packet we received in the mail there are 422 students attending Summit High.

  Well now, there are 423.

  Lucky me.

  As I turned the corner of the street, I looked up to see a row of school buses lining up in the distance, each taking turns pulling into the circular driveway in front, dropping off the students who lived farther than two miles away, and since I lived less than ½ mile away, I was classified as a ‘walker’. I silently thanked my mom for her thoughtfulness in finding a school within a short walking distance. She knew my adversity to cars and I smiled inwardly.

  Looking down the street again, I noticed that besides the buses, there was also a long line of cars on the street trying to vie their way into line, their noses edging forward, forcing their way into queue. I could see the line was a mix of parents dropping off and juniors and seniors patiently waiting to pull into the student parking lot.

  Oh, damn I wish I were back in Florida.

  After arriving on campus, I followed the signs pointing to the admissions office where mom and I had gone to sign me up for school. I brought back the forms the admissions woman had given to my mom to complete and handed them over to a different woman behind the counter. She smiled and said “Welcome…”, pausing, she looked down to the paper to ascertain my name, “Amber, to our school”. She smiled broadly and handed me two forms to sign.

  After I returned them to her, she gave me a small index card sized schedule with all my classes on it for the rest of the semester, with a small map of the campus on the reverse side showing what buildings housed what classrooms. She smiled again and pointed me in the direction of my first class. I heard “have a nice day” as I was leaving. I turned to her smiled and walked away.

  Yeah, right, like that was going to happen.

  She seemed like a really nice woman, but boy, the amount of perfume on her almost jumpstarted my gag reflex. When I stepped outside, I tried breathing through my mouth.

  Ugh, I was so dreading this day. I was dragging my feet each step of the way.

  I hated being the object of anyone’s attention and of course you know a new student will always be just that. Oh well, can’t change anything, so the sooner I started it the sooner the day would be over. And the sooner I can be back home in my room.

  I looked down at my new schedule and saw Trigonometry would be my first class, followed by Social Studies, English, Lunch break, Earth Science and ending the day with Art.

  Now that was funny. Me in an art class, the thought of it brought a small sarcastic smile to my face. The guidance counselor we met with when we’d toured the school said ‘I would be challenged here in Summit High. The faculty was exceptional.’

  It was more likely the faculty will be challenged, especially the Art teacher.

  I slowly walked to building number six, hoping against all hope the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I opened the door to Classroom B and my stomach tightened. The beginning of my very own purgatory was about to start. When I looked up, I noticed several students were already sitting and a few standing by the hooks hanging up their jackets. I gave the sign-in sheet to my teacher and he introduced himself to me – Mr. Jackson – he pointed and waved his finger in the general direction of the classroom and told me to grab any seat I chose. I went directly to the back of the room and took a seat where it wouldn’t be so easy for the rest of the class to stare. Of course they all huddled whispering to one another and looking in my direction every chance they got. Oh damn, today was going to be hell.

  ***

  “Jason!”

  Jason rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head to block the sound of his mother’s wailing.

  “Damn it Jason!”

  Jason threw the pillow across the room frustratingly.

  “Jason, damn it, Jason, come on, don’t make me walk up these friggin’ stairs to get your ass out of bed.”

  The shrill scream of his mother’s voice permeated his semi-sleep/semi-awake state. Jason could picture her standing at the foot of the stairs, her hair a mess, her robe wrapped tightly around her small frame. She would be lighting her second cigarette and she was probably hung-over. Jason knew well, that all she wanted to do was flop back down on the couch and go back to sleep.

  He realized the only way he could escape the misery that has become his everyday was to get up, get dressed, and get the hell out of here, away from her.

  “Yeah...” he called out groggily. “I heard you, ‘as did most of the neighbors”, he murmured under his breath’, “I’m getting in the shower now! Stop the screeching!”

  He heard an expletive followed by a rant too low to decipher what was said, but wisely decided it was in his best interest to just ignore the crazy woman downstairs.

  On his way to the bathroom, he noticed the rugs could use a good vacuuming and the hallway could stand to be tidied up. His mom was going through one of her “all encompassing” breakups. Whereby she’d turn off the “mom function” and go into her self-pity, self-preservation and just plain self-mode. He knew the bathroom was in the same deplorable state as the rest of the house.

  ‘I wish this woman would just find someone to make her happy so this house would feel like a family lived here instead of a bunch of nomads.’

  Dad leaving us and running off with some blonde with ‘attributes’, that so many middle aged men seem to find necessary, turned his mom into a harrowing, nasty, moody and most unhappy woman. Her endless carping was driving him crazy.

  ‘I’m doin’ it all by myself Jay, all by myself, raising your brother, taking care of the house, putting a decent meal on the table’.

  It always fell short of feeling like a real family lived here.

  He dried off with the one towel he found in the upstairs bathroom that looked to be somewhat clean. He kicked the dirty clothes that spilled over the top of the hamper away with his foot, as he made room to walk to the sink. When he finally made his way to the mirror he swiped his hand over the condensation coating the dirty surface.

  How did I get here?

  It was a question he found he was asking himself more and more frequently.

  Jason finished drying off and wrapped the towel around his waist, making his way back to his room where he found the pile of clean clothes he washed for his little brother Jacob and himself the previous day. Someone had to make sure they both had clean clothes to wear to school. Just a few more months and he would be eighteen. Then he can get the hell out of here, go and get a job, find a place, cheap but clean, and take Jacob with him.

  He was constantly reminded of coming from a broken family. The news of his father’s leaving them for the woman he worked with was news that the town’s gossips made their primary point of discussion for the past several months. They made sure almost everyone in town knew the scandal. It was typical it was a cliché. Handsome husband/father leaves his unhappy nagging wife and two children for the love of a whore. Jason tried to maintain a ‘normal’ home for his brother. He fixed dinner when his mom was too drunk or forgot… either reason unacceptable. He did it so his brother wouldn’t feel the shame he was constantly reminded of. It was getting harder for him, and he got little or no help from their mother.

  After the divorce, his father tried to maintain a relationship with his sons, he loved his kids. He told Jason, “I still love your mother Jay, I just can’t live with her.”