Forever for a Year by B. T. Gottfred Read Free Book Online

first day of school, with no backpack, and she slid two sheets of paper to me without me even asking.
    I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. Who cares? I should just switch the classes. Right? She’s a snob, thinks she’s too good for me, all that. Right?
    â€œMr. Santos, is the new schedule okay?” the front-office lady asked again.

 
    7
    Carolina gets a request
    â€œCarolina,” my mom said as she stopped the car on the side of the road even though we were still a block away from our house.
    Before she even said another word, I started crying. Why would I start crying? I didn’t even know what she was going to say! Maybe my first day was more stressful than I realized, but THEN I realized I knew exactly what she was going to say. I just did.
    â€œI’ve told your dad he can move back in.”
    â€œBut, Mommy,” I started. Mommy? I never call her that anymore! Wake up and grow up, Carolina! “Mom, he hurt you so much. He doesn’t deserve you.”
    â€œDon’t say that. He’s been a very good dad to you. He loves you and your brother so much. He’s just made some mistakes. We all make mistakes.”
    â€œBut some mistakes shouldn’t be forgiven!” I screamed this, without meaning to, but I really needed my mom to understand.
    â€œCalm down,” she said, “calm down, okay? If he ever hurt you in any way, I wouldn’t forgive him. But—”
    â€œHe did hurt me!” Then my crying just exploded. I didn’t even know who I was—it was like I was a tiny monster baby who couldn’t speak, only scream and cry. But I could speak, so I did, but I couldn’t stop crying. “He hurt me because he hurt you! And I know he’ll do it again and you’ll be even sadder and I’ll have to take care of you again and who will take care of me?”
    Then I stopped talking and my whole chest just heaved up and down. I couldn’t breathe. But I could, obviously—it just felt like I was going to suffocate from so much craziness pounding under my skin.
    Then my mom said, “Okay. Okay. I won’t let him move in.”
    Then she didn’t say anything. I didn’t either. My breathing was almost normal again. I wiped my snotty, teary face with my sweaty soccer shirt. It was drenched.
    â€œHe did ask … to bring dinner over tonight. Is that okay?”
    My face wanted to cry some more, but I was too tired. I didn’t want to see my dad, I didn’t, but I didn’t want to make my mom’s life harder. She’s fragile, you know? So I nodded yes, it was okay. Then my head, without me even telling it to, fell across the seat onto her chest. She laid her chin on the top of my head.
    *   *   *
    My mom works as a nurse in the emergency room at the Leary County Hospital. When I was eight, my dad lost his job at Northwestern University, and for a while my mom supported the whole family. How could a man hurt a woman who supported him like that? The worst part is that we were all so happy when he got a new job at Northern Illinois University, not knowing the new job would ruin everything. See, NIU was almost two hours away, so some days he would stay the night near the school. And eventually he stayed more than he used to. I tried not to think about it, but my mom kept getting sadder and sadder. On nights he didn’t come home, she would make me food but not eat any herself, then watch TV in bed when she used to read next to me while I did my homework.
    When my brother, Heath, came home for spring break last year (he goes to college in Colorado), my dad made sure to be home the whole week—because he really does love his kids, I think. But my mom couldn’t turn off her depression anymore, even though she kept saying everything was fine. Heath talked to my dad, who then talked to my mom, who then talked to me, and I was the one who cried