(A work in progress. Also, to read the intro, see previous entry.)
When I got home from work, I only had one thing on my mind. At seventeen, my life revolved around being active. I was not the kind of teenager that would be found in the library, stuck in front of the television, watching shows or playing video games, or glued to the computer, wasting my time on social networking sites or looking for ways to save and waste my money. If I wasn’t being held down by classes or a part time job, I was getting sweaty outdoors or in an ice rink. Because it was summer and snow and ice no longer covered the ground, all I wanted was to grab my skateboard and get out to the skate park.
“Wait, Danny,” my mom said. “We need to talk.”
“I’m in a hurry,” I said, impatient and reluctant to hear her out.
Dad stood from the sofa and took Mom’s side. “You’re always in a hurry, son, and you’re always out doing something. But this is serious.”
I sighed and slumped back into the living room. I hated serious talks with my parents. The last one we had involved Grandma having a stroke.
They looked at one another, and then me.
“So, what’s going on?” I asked when no one spoke.
Mom took a deep breath, but Dad was the one to speak.
“I got this great opportunity to work in China.”
This was not a surprise. Dad’s work as an architect was what brought us to New England in the first place, so that he could teach at a prestigious school. When he was not teaching, he always had opportunities overseas to teach or be involved in some sort of project. I was already well prepared to hear of these kinds of arrangements, so I didn’t understand why they were making it seem like it was some big deal. And why the hell were they looking at me like they were trying too hard to keep a straight face?
The joke’s on me, right?
“Well, Danny, I’m going to be in China for over a year, perhaps more.”
That set an alarm off. He had never been away for that long before. “What are you saying?” I asked carefully, afraid of what they might be thinking. “You can’t expect me to move to another country my senior year!”
“You’re right, that wouldn’t be fair. But, we’re making many sacrifices so that I can take advantage of this opportunity.”
Mom finally spoke up. “This isn’t something I could let your dad pass up. And because we don’t know exactly how long this project will take, I’ll go with him.”
I took a deep breath. Okay, my parents leaving would be hard, especially during my last year in high school when I had so many things going for me, but if it’s what they wanted, I could deal with it. For as long as I could remember – minus those awkward few years of middle school when I hated everyone – my parents and I had always had a close relationship. It was easy to talk to them about my personal life without feeling embarrassed or without them having to force information out of me. Not having them around was hard to imagine, but I was a practical guy, even at seventeen. I knew I was just about to hit adulthood and my parents would have a whole new life after that, one that did not involve raising a kid. So if they wanted to get an early start on that, I could respect that.
“With Grandma’s health problems, and her moving, she couldn’t possibly take on the task as your guardian.”
Grandma, a lively, energetic old woman who loved to use her hands and travel, and made the best damn blueberry cookies in the world, had decided to move into a senior living center after her small stroke. Her two-story house on the outskirts of town resembled a mini museum, filled with treasures collected from her travels around the world in her younger days. The yard, especially the back, was a massive garden overflowing with exotic plants and flowers, a pond with a waterfall and working windmill that was home to frogs and fish. As a kid, when I still lived on the other side of the country, I used to poke at the life in the water with a stick, convinced there were monsters in there. It was a beautiful property and we all hated to see it go, but Grandma was older now, and was in no condition to maintain it herself, even with the help of a gardener. She was such an independent, vibrant women that it had shocked us all when she told us she had decided to move.
Grandma moving still wasn’t a big deal. This was an easy fix. I could just live with Ryan, my best friend and partner in crime.
“Danny, I don’t think you’re completely grasping the situation. We’re not making you move to China, but you’re not staying here.”
Something inside me started to twist and stir the liquids of what was supposed to be my stomach. “What does that mean?”
But I already knew. They didn’t have to tell me. Without them having to actually come out and say it, I could envision the scenario they had planned for me. There was only one other place they would send me, a place I was more than happy to avoid.
