Saving Face (a young adult romance) (8 page)

            Christmas came and went.  Alyssa was grateful
for the week off of school.  She was tired—she could probably use the rest.  Lately
she could barely seem to find the energy to make it to school on time.  Every
year since they were 12 Brent left town to spend the holidays with his dad. 
Last year they’d gone skiing in Vermont.  It was dumb to miss his company
during a time of year she was use to being alone anyway.  Of course last year
she’d gotten beautiful postcards, funny emails, and whatever—she didn’t miss
him
that
much.

            It was a good holiday even without a call from
her best friend.  Alyssa determinedly disregarded the still wrapped gift under
the tree addressed to Brent.  Normally he would have been over a few days
earlier to exchange gifts before he left for his dad’s.  This year the super
light weight aluminum collapsible tripod wrapped in shiny green paper laughed
at her from beneath the tree.  He hadn’t come.  Whatever, she’d bought the
thing weeks ago anyway.  Before the stupid break.

            Pop loved the baseball game she’d bought him for
his Wii.   She stayed later than usual that evening after bringing Pop home
just to try it out with him.  She won.  It was way more fun than chess.  “So
does this mean I am off the hook for Sunday chess games now?  I’ll play as much
baseball as you want.”  Alyssa goaded her grandfather a little.  He liked it
that way.

            “We’ll see about that, girl.  These TV games
take a little practice.  I never used to be good at the bowling one either. 
Did Steven tell you I bowled a perfect game last week?”

            “No.  That’s great Pop.”

            “Yeah he bowls with me on Tuesdays—helps me get
ready for league night.  Wish I coulda had that 300 for league night, though. 
Maybe now we’ll play a little ball—I can’t have it getting around the home that
I play worse than a girl.”

            “I don’t play ball like a girl and you know
it!”  Alyssa liked when Pop teased her.  He didn’t seem so much like an old man
then.  She felt glad that her Dad had been visiting on Tuesdays; it made her
feel better about not brining any extra visitors on Sundays.  Maybe next week
she would bring Beth.  It wasn’t like Brent was her only friend. 

A few days after the holiday she
and Beth saw a movie.  “I’m sorry about the whole Spencer thing.”  She was
apologizing as they waited for the popcorn.

            “It’s cool.  I loved the concert.  He seemed
like a nice enough guy, I’m just not into dating right now.”

            “I should have known you weren’t over Brent yet.”

            “Technically, I was never under him.”  Alyssa
realized how that sounded.  “Oh!  You know what I mean.”

            “So—you haven’t talked to Brent yet.”

            “Nope.  Come on, I don’t want to miss the
trailers.”  Alyssa tried to walk away, but Beth’s legs were more than long
enough to keep up. 

            “You should call him.  It could only help
things.”

            “
Things
don’t need any help.  We are just
taking a little break from each other.  It’s not the big deal you are making
it.”

            “Really?  So you haven’t been Zombie Alyssa for
the past two months?”

            “No!  I have been concentrating on classes, and
I’ve been busy with family stuff.  I really do like the trailers!  Let’s go.”

            Okay so the movie wasn’t her best idea ever. 
Beth was great, but too perceptive.  Had she really been Zombie Alyssa?

            Standing on the porch when Alyssa and Beth got
back from the movie theater, were both her parents.  Just standing there, in
the cold, with no heavy jackets—as if they’d rushed out the door as soon as
Beth’s car drove into sight.  Alyssa and Beth approached the house slowly.

            “Something’s wrong.”  Alyssa stated when she and
Beth made their way to the front door.  “Mom, you’re supposed to be at the
hospital for another two hours.”

            “It’s your grandfather.”  Her dad’s face looked
pained when he spoke.

            “Is he in the hospital again?”  Alyssa forgot
Beth was there and she rushed toward the house.

            “Let me grab some things and we’ll go see him. 
I still have his
greatest game
DVDs.  Last time they kept him so long
and…”

            “Alyssa sweetheart.”  Her mom grabbed her arm
before she could get through the door.  “He isn’t in the hospital.  He had a
heart attack.  There was nothing they could do.”

            Realization didn’t dawn on her until much later
that night.  She was lying in bed trying to sleep when her thoughts finally
made sense again.  Her grandfather was gone.  She wasn’t going to beat him at
baseball on Sunday, because she wasn’t going to be seeing him on Sunday.  She
wasn’t going to be seeing him at all anymore.  The very idea was so foreign
that she couldn’t process it.  All night she’d thought of anything else.  She’d
made lasagna for dinner.  Pop loved her lasagna.  No one had eaten much that
night.  She’d cleaned the bath room.  She’d dusted the upstairs banister that
her mom always forgot about. 

At some point she was pretty sure
she’d texted Beth to be sure she got home all right.  Alyssa wasn’t sure when she’d
left.  Beth called back, but Alyssa didn’t answer.  What would she say?  So she
went to bed.  Not to sleep, because she couldn’t sleep.  She just laid there
all night—not sleeping, not thinking, not doing much of anything.

            The viewing was more of the same.  Alyssa hung
up coats, and fetched trays of refreshments.  There was a couch reserved for
her family.  Presumably so other mourners could find them easily and tell them
lots of stupid things that wouldn’t help at all.  So she didn’t sit on the
couch.  Cousins Alyssa couldn’t name made conversation with her that she’d
never be able to recall.  The cousins were all wearing black.  Pop hated black
on young people.  Said it wasn’t appropriate for anyone under thirty—Alyssa
wasn’t sure why that was.  She wore her blue skirt. 

She didn’t think much about Pop. 
She didn’t linger at the photos depicting his life story by the entranceway. 
She didn’t join in while his bowling league from Stoneybrook were swapping
stories.  She didn’t even talk to her dad when he tried to get her to sit
down.  He was crying.  For two days she’d watched him cry for the father he
hadn’t gotten along with.  Alyssa hadn’t cried.  Not one tear—her mascara was
in zero danger.  Maybe, she thought briefly, maybe she hadn’t loved Pop
enough.  Or else wouldn’t she be crying?  When people felt sad they cried. 
Alyssa couldn’t seem to feel sad.  She felt frantic and numb and for some
reason really-really annoyed—but not sad.  Alyssa wished she could sit.  Her
body was suddenly too heavy—like her legs couldn’t support her own weight.  No
way was she going near that couch. 

            That night she found herself in bed and wide
awake.  Again.  Maybe she wouldn’t ever be able to sleep again.  Wasn’t there a
sixty minutes episode about guy who never slept?  She was pretty sure that guy
had gone insane.  Maybe she would go insane too.  Insane people couldn’t be
expected to go to funerals, could they?  Alyssa figured she’d rather go insane
than go to the funeral in the morning.

            Sometime later, when the pitch black of night
had long ago swallowed her room and Alyssa was counting her third flock of
sheep, she heard the door creak open.  Her mother was being
uncharacteristically motherish today.  This must be the fifth time she’d been
checked
on. 

            “Go to bed mom.  I’m asleep.”  She grumbled
without turning to face her.  There was no answer. 

Just when she’d decided her mother
must have left, she felt the bed dip behind her.  A big heavy arm pulled her against
a strong muscular chest and a scratchy cheek rested against her forehead.  “I
never knew you talked in your sleep.”  His familiar voice sounded in the dark.

“Brent?”

“Of course Brent.  How many men
climb into your bed at this hour?”  His teasing tone erased weeks of avoiding
each other.

“Usually none.  I thought we were
taking a break?”  His warmth felt so good.  Suddenly sleep seemed less
impossible.

“We’re taking a time-out from
taking a break.”  Brent whispered into her hair.

“I’m glad.”  Alyssa breathed in
deeply.  “My Pop died.”  She was much too tired for words like
passed away
.

“I know.  Beth called me.” 

“She has a big mouth.”

“Yeah.  Lucky isn’t it?”

Alyssa couldn’t answer.  Tears
she’d been begging herself to cry for two days suddenly spilled easily down her
cheeks.  Brent never flinched as she sobbed into his shoulder.  He only tucked
her blankets in around them, held her tighter, combed his fingers through her
hair and murmured reassuring words that made her feel more and more calm. 
Eventually calm became exhausted and exhausted became asleep.

In the morning she awoke alone in
her bed.  For a moment she was afraid that it had all been a dream.  But before
that fear could overtake her she found a post-it note on her mirror.

Went home to shower and change. 
I’m coming back.  We can drive over together.

Alyssa took a deep breath and
headed for her own shower.  That quiet, calm mood must have been somehow
attached to Brent’s presence.  Now that he was gone the frantic numbness of the
day before was settling back in. 

She owned two pairs of black dress
pants, but just the one navy blue skirt.  Probably black slacks were okay as
long as she didn’t wear a black top too.  Didn’t she have a dark wine colored
sweater somewhere?  That sounded somber and appropriate.

“Are just about ready?  Your
parents just left and…”  Brent swung open her bedroom door and immediately
turned around to face the hallway.  “Sorry, Lyssa.”  He choked out.

Looking down, Alyssa realized she
was standing around in pants and a bra.  Where was that sweater?  “I don’t
think I can go.  I don’t have anything to wear.  Pop hates black.  I never wear
black when I visit.  Well I do on game days—Flyers jerseys are the only
exception he’ll make.  So I guess I can’t go.”

“Lyssa.  It doesn’t matter what you
wear.”  Brent was still facing the hallway.

“You’re probably right.  I can wear
anything I want—since I am staying home.”  Brent turned around.  He looked
incredible.  Of course he was wearing black.  He only had one suit and it was
black.  His tie was emerald green.  Was it absurd that today of all days she
noticed how incredible his eyes looked when he wore that particular shade of
green?

“Just stay here a minute, kay?” 
Brent crossed the room to her window and crawled outside.  He must be crazy,
Alyssa thought, to be crawling across roof tops in his suit.  And she thought
she was going insane!  A minute later he was climbing back through; only now he
was wearing his Flyers Jersey.  Wordlessly he crossed to her closet and tossed
her jersey over to her.  “Get dressed.  We are leaving in two minutes.”

For some reason this made her feel
better.  So silently Alyssa scrambled into the jersey, swiped on her lip gloss,
and clipped a section of her hair away from her face with a barrette. 

“Ready.”  She turned to face
Brent.  He was looking at her a little strangely.

“You look beautiful, Lyssa.”  And
he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

“You were right.  It’s a little
weird.”  She mumbled as they walked down the stairs.  Behind her he was
laughing out loud.

Alyssa wondered if people were
staring.  By the time they reached the funeral home she’d figured out that
people don’t normally wear hockey jerseys to funerals.  It was strange though,
because even while she wondered if they were staring—she didn’t really care. 
When Brent led Alyssa into their seats her father’s eyes tried to jump out of
his skull.  Nope, she still didn’t care.  Pop would have liked this she
thought.  Anyway it was the
Pop
approved
black, so she was
satisfied.  Brent wrapped one arm around her shoulder and his free hand
squeezed hers throughout the entire service.  During the luncheon that followed
he never left her side.  It was as if he knew she couldn’t feel that much
needed calmness without him nearby. 

In the same way that Alyssa would
never recall most of what had been going on over the previous 48 hours, she
knew most of this day would also be lost to her.  However parts of it would
stick with her.  And as surely as she knew her own name she knew that 90 years
into the future she would be able to recall the exact feeling of Brent’s hand
holding hers and how his strength seemed to be all that was holding her upright
throughout the entire day. 

When her obligatory family duties
had been fulfilled Brent silently got up from their table and retrieved their
coats.  She didn’t protest that she wanted to stay longer as she probably
should have done.  Instead she kissed her dad’s cheek and told him she’d see
him at home.

In the car Alyssa finally found
some semblance of a normal voice.  “Where did your dad take you this year?” 
Just because she had recovered the power of intelligent speech didn’t mean she
was ready to discuss Pop.

“We went north.”

“Vague much?  Did he take you to
meet Santa Claus?”

Brent huffed out a laugh.  “Not
this trip.  We went to Montreal.  I could spend a lifetime wandering the old
city with my camera.”

“Canada?  Your dad took you to
Canada.  Oh my god, and you flew back just for this!”

“Actually I drove.  Do you have any
idea what a last minute flight from Montreal costs?  So I rented a car.”

“You drove?  Isn’t that like a 12
hour drive?”

“Nah, it took about nine.  I wanted
to be here yesterday—I’m sorry Lyssa.”