Beau, Lee, The Bomb Page 20

  “You were right. There is no way anything is going to change if there is no one to stand up and say, ‘Stop it! This is my life you’re ruining!’ Go ahead and file, and when I get back, we’ll turn a fire hose on her! We’re gonna bring it! Well, yeah, not literally, but oh, what a world of whoop-ass she just opened on herself and the whole school district! I will never surrender! I’m going to seriously enjoy watching her melt down! Well, I am mad. But anger is a useful thing when it’s constructive, right? Yeah, I have been listening to them a lot, because they make sense. . . . I have been hearing their stories of the olden days, and they did a lot back then! Yeah, he is cool. So is Oscar . . . Yeah . . . yeah, I do, a lot. I am glad I met him.

  “Okay, listen, I’m going to go for now. Say hey and Merry Christmas to Matt, and we’ll be back pretty soon. Before school starts. I love you too. No crying! No need to! It’s all good now. . . . I’m coming home. Bye for now. I love you too.” He hangs up, then sets his phone down on the coffee table and picks mine up.

  Without a word, he hands my phone directly to me. My turn.

  I dial slowly. . . .

  Paul picks up.

  “Hey, dude.”

  “Hey, Rylee! Merry Christmas! Mom! It’s Rylee! You were right! She called!”

  I hear my mom saying something in the background, and then she takes the phone from Paul and the next voice I hear is hers.

  “Rylee?”

  “Hey, Mom. Merry Christmas!”

  “Oh honey! Are you okay? I’m so relieved you called! Are you in San Francisco still?”

  “Yeah, it’s been great. Beau’s uncles are really cool, and we have been sightseeing the city and eating in restaurants and all kinds of stuff. We even got our picture in the paper!”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t going to tell you till we got home, because I figured it would just flip you out, but we stopped a robbery. Well, The Bomb did.”

  “What?”

  “The Bomb. Oh, right . . . that’s, um, our dog. We saved her.”

  “What?!”

  “Yeah . . . I kind of have a lot to tell you, I guess. I just didn’t want you to freak.”

  “Rylee.” I can hear her take a deep breath. “I don’t know where to start. . . . I imagine you can tell I’m pretty mad. It was irresponsible for you to leave without telling me and make me so scared! And I hope you realize that you really left us in a bind here when you took the van. I have been on the bus trying to get to school and clinicals and Paul’s karate stuff. That was pretty selfish of you.”

  “But I left all my money. Why didn’t you just buy a new car with it?”

  “Because that is a big decision for me and I don’t want to make it in a hurry and the money you left wasn’t enough for a van as good as ours. I babied that engine.”

  “Oh, but the bluebook—well . . . sorry.”

  “Are you?”

  I am.

  “Yes, Mom, I am. I didn’t mean to mess stuff up for you and Paul. I felt like this was a real emergency at the time.”

  My mom sighs. Deeply. She is silent for a second.

  “Oh, Rylee. Well, was it?”

  I answer slowly, and as honestly as I can. “Yes. Not anymore. I think we are figuring it out.”

  I hear my mom’s voice start to thaw a little.

  “That’s good then. I want you to come home. When are you leaving?”

  “I don’t know. Not yet. Soon.”

  “Rylee, please. All of you are way too young to be traipsing around the coast, and it’s time you came home.”

  “I can’t yet, Mom. But we will soon. Listen, please just stay calm for a little while longer. Beau is almost ready. . . . we’ll for sure be back by the time school starts.”

  I can tell she’s making a decision. She sighs again. I make her sigh a lot.

  “Oh, you guys. Well, just don’t wear out your welcome. They have been very nice to you, but remember: They aren’t really your uncles. Don’t presume too long on their hospitality.”

  Good point.

  “I won’t, Mom. We find a lot of things to do so we aren’t in their hair.”

  “Or just come home. I miss you.” Now her voice is starting to do the mother breakdown too.

  “We will. Beau and Leo are figuring some things out, and we’ll be back when we’re done.”

  “Are you figuring some things out too?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  “Have you been going to Mass?”

  I pause. I want to tell the truth, but I don’t want to make her feel worse than I already have.

  I hear her make a little choking sound. Still, I decide to tell the truth.

  “No, but I will when I’m with you.”

  Maybe that can be the compromise for my entire life. When we are together, I’ll go to please my mom, whom I love dearly.

  Because when I’m a little older I will move out and then it will be time to make my own decisions. About a lot of things. And I will reflect on the values she has chosen for me and I will ponder long and hard before I reject anything this wonderful person who loves me so much has given me.

  But then I will, if they’re not right for me. . . .

  “To thine own self be true.”

  Sucks to fake it. Especially for your entire life.

  My mom sniffles. Then the choking sound. I’ve done it again.

  “Rylee, do you have any idea how scared I’ve been? Or how much I miss you? You are my funny, sweet kid and my only girl! What would I do without you? Paul’s lonesome too! Come home!”

  “Mom, he’s so not lonesome. He’s always gone. So are you! You guys have your stuff figured out! But what about me? All I have is school and books and Facebook. And Facebook and books are fine, but school is hell! Maybe I’m lonesome! I am alone there so much it gets spooky! Don’t get me wrong, I’m super glad for you! I just want us all good! Listen, Mama, I know we need to come home, but I got to find my way first, ’kay? Don’t be mad, please?”

  There is a stuttery silence while she wills herself back from crying or anger.

  My mom is so giving. I can hear her thinking.

  I can hear her hear me. Her silence is heavy. When she speaks, her voice is soggy.

  “Oh, Rylee, honey, you’re right. It’s just that I was so excited to be back in school and to start earning some money again so we can do things before you guys are all grown up. You know, I want to take you traveling too, someplace besides Alaska, though it’s very nice up there. I want to do fun things with you, too. It’s been hard to exchange cool vacations and blow-out Christmases for the privilege of seeing you guys grow up, you know? I want to give you the stuff everybody else has, which I can’t even identify, but I’ll bet you and Paul can and . . . I just want a little more time with you, sweetheart, before you’re grown and gone, without us always being so broke and anxious, so we can have fun. I know you haven’t had many good times in your childhood or teens so far, but hey, it’s not too late, right?”

  My mom knows she has my attention. She takes a deep breath and continues.

  “Here’s an idea: How about I trust you as an almost adult, to make good decisions and not mess up your high school education? I will wait till you have the feeling that it’s time to come back. I will not attempt a rescue like you are always accusing me of, so that when you come home, it will be because you want to, not because I guilt-tripped you into it. How’s that? Did I miss anything?”

  She’s trying to be light so she doesn’t make me feel worse, I can tell. She’s being so brave it’s jerking the corners of my mouth down like they’re on pulleys. My throat starts to slam shut.

  “Okay, Mama,” I manage. “Sounds great.”

  “Good, sweetheart. And, Ry . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “If there is anything I can do, you just let me know, okay? Anything that does need someone butting in, bossing you around, and giving advice, you know? It’s my specialty!”

  I try a laugh in honor of her
awesomeness. It comes out like an underwater gurgle.

  “ ’Kay, Mama, I love you.”

  There is a small pause and then a very watery “Okay, baby. Merry Christmas. I love you too.”

  “ ’Kay, bye.” I hang up just as my nose drips on my lap.

  I look up into four pairs of the sweetest, most sympathetic eyes. Six pairs, when you count the dogs.

  “She says hey,” I gargle. They nod. It looks wobbly through my swimming eyes.

  “Your mom is awesome.” Leonie looks wistful. “We could totally hear her over the phone.”

  “Yeah, it’s always so loud it’s like on speaker. Mine’s kind of crappy too.” I nod. I’m exhausted. I feel like I need a recharge, and it’s only like noon. The uncles look at us and then each other.

  They return to previously scheduled programming. It works like magic.

  “No more tears! Just more cocoa!” chants Oscar. “Then prezzies!!” He bursts into a new random song. “Good Queen Oscar looked a-round! All up in the cit-y! Scooby-doo, and la-de-da! Time to open prezzies! Woo-hoo! Yule time, child!”

  My favorite Christmas carol to date.

  I love my uncle Oscar. I don’t care if he’s not technically my uncle.

  Sometimes your soul decides who your family is, not just your DNA.

  We settle around the tree and Beau is Santa. He gets my present out first. They wrapped it beautifully. It’s a small box, which, when I unwrap it, contains another smaller box, also beautifully wrapped.

  Inside that is a very small, perfect box that says Tiffany & Co.

  I have heard of Tiffany’s. Mostly from reading Breakfast at Tiffany’s, which is a great book.

  Tiffany’s is very expensive. Just sayin’.

  I look up, and Beau’s and Leonie’s eyes are huge. Beau opens his mouth at me like, “Wow!”

  I open the box and take out a golden heart on a chain. It is finely wrought and glitters. The chain is so fine it’s almost like an idea of a chain.

  The uncles are like little kids. Uncle Oscar bounces as he sits on the sofa.

  “Hee-hee! Do you like it? Isn’t it pretty? They designed it with us! Open it! That little catch, there almost under the hinge . . . I know! You can barely see it! Open it!”

  When I do, a cunning little device allows eight little picture holders inside the locket to unfurl, one after another, so I can have eight pictures of friends and loved ones, and then it enfolds them again, all held within the beautiful heart.

  “Oh.” It’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen. I feel my throat start to shut.

  I look at the uncles.

  “Wow, guys, thank you. It’s so beautiful.”

  Uncle Oscar cackles in glee.

  “It’s like you are, Rylee. It’s amazing how much room is in that heart, isn’t it? Just like you! See, we know you think of yourself as so cold and heartless. You worry you’re this alienated, jaded, steam-punk android but really, you are one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met, and I’m so glad I did! Your heart does exist, and guess what? It’s huge! This little heart is just a symbol of your heart. You are one of the most loving people I’ve ever known. And I love you!!” His warm eyes twinkle, and he blows me a kiss. He knows I cannot speak. “Now you just sit there and think about it. And, Leonie, why don’t you go next?”

  Beau hands Leo her present.

  It’s wrapped up in a box and then another box and then a Tiffany’s box for her too!

  It’s a tiny golden flute on a chain. It’s as exquisite as my heart, and when she blows it, a sweet high C sounds. It’s beautiful and breathy, a little song like wind in the willows. She stares.

  The uncles chortle. “For our brave and beautiful whistle-blower!” sings out Oscar.

  “Yeah, for our gutsy Lion Heart!” adds Uncle Frank.

  Oscar goes on. “We are so proud of you! If we were your parents, we would just burst with pride! We are going to be behind you every step of the way, darling, and we know a thing or two about making a stir, by this late date.”

  “Oh, thank you!” Leonie sobs out. She can’t get it unfastened, and she runs over to hug the uncles on the sofa and then halfway climbs into Oscar’s lap. He opens the clasp and puts it around her neck. It gleams against her creamy skin. He holds her at arm’s length and admires it and her.

  “You look so pretty! And, more importantly, so happy! Here: Give it a little tweet! Oh, that’s so cute! See, Frankie, doesn’t she look like a Botticelli? But even prettier, since you’re right here in front of us! See right there? We were going to engrave it for you, sweet pea, but then we were embarrassed to admit that we didn’t know your last name.” Oscar makes a little “whoops” face.

  “No, that’s perfect!” says Leo. “Because I’m going to change my last name. I just kept forgetting to tell you guys.” She looks over at Beau and me.

  “You are?” I ask. News to me. “To what?”

  “My real dad’s last name: DuBois. I’ve been thinking about it. Caitiff is my stepdad’s name; I just use it ’cuz my mom accidentally signed it when I started kindergarten ’cuz she was drunk and it was her new last name. I never said anything so it would be like hers. He never adopted me. My name is Leonie DuBois.”

  “Leonie Du-Bwah,” Beau repeats experimentally. “It fits you! I love it!”

  “I think that’s a French name, Lee,” I tell her. “ ‘Du’ means ‘of’ and I don’t know what ‘Bois’ means. We’ll google it. But whatever, this is so cool! You’re part French!” For some reason, this tickles me to no end. I like to research names and see if they mean something.

  “Yeah? That’s tight. My real dad’s name is Ryan. Is that French too?”

  “So don’t know! I don’t think so. I’ve never heard you mention him before. What else do you know about him?”

  She shakes her head and shrugs. Considers.

  “Um, nothing. No, wait—he fought in Bosnia and . . . I ‘inherited his hair.’ I just remembered. I remember my mom saying that!”

  “When did you see him last?”

  “Dunno. I was little.” Her face starts to fall.

  Leonie says that a lot in relation to her childhood. It’s never about anything good.

  The uncles take over. Before she can get sad.

  “Well, we will figure all this out before too long, but for now let’s not forget the presents! Beau, you and Leonie each open The Bomb’s, and Rylee, you open Mr. Sylvester Stallone’s.”

  Sylvester gets a giant rawhide bone thingy, which he takes off with under the desk. He’s happy. I look over to see what The Bomb is getting for Christmas. She has two presents. One is a rawhide thingy, but the other present is a gift bag. Inside is a really cool red ruby collar, with “The Bomb” inlaid in glittery black beads. The tail end of the last b in Bomb has a sparkly gold thread like a lit fuse. They had it made just for her. And there’s a rainbow-glitter leash as well.

  “Whoa!” We are agog with the beauty of it all. “Dudes! That is awesome!”

  We put the collar on The Bomb, who proceeds to waggle all over the place like she loves it too. Her mouth is open and laughing. She’s one of those husky dogs who “smile” when they get happy.

  “Oh, my! She is the prettiest dog in the world!” Uncle Oscar is delighted with our surprise.

  “Now, Beau, your turn.” Uncle Frank holds out the last package, which is different and lumpy.

  Beau takes the present slowly.

  “Thanks, guys.” He looks a little uncertain. I know how he feels. It’s kind of hard opening presents in front of people. He slowly unwraps the outside, and it turns into two presents, hence the lumpiness. He opens one and sure enough: Tiffany’s.

  It’s a key chain. There is no key on it. The uncles explain.

  “We also made a key for you to our apartment. Here you go. It was supposed to symbolize that you are welcome to stay here; that was before we heard what you had to say to your mom. But now I think we feel it’s more appropriate than ever. We still wa
nt you to feel welcome, but if you do make Seattle home, then whenever you visit us you know you have a place to stay. Look and see what we engraved.”

  It says “Home” on one side and “Welcome” on the other.

  “Whoa, this is awesome! It’s beautiful, guys! Thanks!” He goes and gets his key to his mom’s house out of his jeans and attaches both keys. They make a nice jingle.

  Beau looks grateful.

  “I love it, and it’s crazy good timing for my new home key! And my ‘home away from home’ key! Thanks, dudes!”

  “Oh, you’re not done. Open the other one!”

  Beau unwraps it and just sits looking.

  It’s a smartphone! He’s googly-eyed. So are we. I totally admit I’d like to have one!

  “Wait—how did you know the one I wanted? Omg! You guys rock! Thanks! Whoa! This is awesome!” He suddenly looks at them. “My mom, right?”

  The uncles just giggle and nod. They are so delighted with themselves. Beau goes on, a little subdued.

  “But we haven’t gotten me one already ’cause we can’t afford all that stuff right now.”

  “Hee-hee, that’s just where we come in! It’s from us—‘all that stuff’! It was easy. We just added you to our phone plan, so no worries!” They grin at each other and both talk at once. “We are super handy uncles to have around because we’re DINKs! Ever heard of that? It means ‘Double Income, No Kids’! Hee-hee! Don’t even worry, we’ve already asked your ma and she said fine! Go ahead, check it out. It’s already charged. Now wherever you go, you will be able to see home and that’s nearly as good as being there.”

  “Yeah, Beau, now wherever you go, there you are!” I add. He beams at us all.

  “This is so amazing! You guys are the sh—I mean, the best! I had no idea! Wait, who should we call? Dude, let’s Google-earth and see my house. Omg! This is so great! Thank you, Frankie—sorry—Frank! Thank you, Oscar!”

  Uncle Frankie says gently, “You call me Frankie, Beau. It’s okay.” He smiles kindly. “You, too, Lee and Rylee. You’re all in the clubhouse now!”

  We have cocoa and cinnamon rolls for breakfast and then we give the uncles their present. They said they wanted to eat because they need to settle down; everything was just too exciting.