And Every Road I Take, Leads Me Back to You

“You don’t think he’s fallen in the toilet again, do you?”

Well, third times the charm.

I snort, meeting Mom’s eyes across the middle console, my head still resting on the steering wheel. I’m sure my own eyes widen a fraction. Maybe the third time isn’t the charm.

“He’d have the world record for that happening at this point.”

Mom hums a tune she makes up on the spot. Or one that’s years over my head. She flips the vanity mirror open and tilts her headscarf that I just spent thirty minutes fixing. It is a loud, multicoloured fabric and it is in no need of fixing. She turns away from the mirror and catches my gaze.

“Well?”

“What? You said it looked fine a while ago.”

A brief flicker of mild irritation crosses her features deepening her wrinkles and creasing her sparse eyebrows. “Not that.” The mirror folds up with a click. “Go check on your brother.”

“Mom, he’s not five,” I say. The remaining details of the memory surface and I give a wry smile. “Anymore.”

She exhales which breaks out into a chuckle, then a guffaw, and then a cough. Many coughs in succession, each a sharp echo from a soft shell. Then, me grabbing a tissue when she has already brandished her handkerchief, concern dripping from my stare.

If I were any more concerned, I’d turn into a puddle.

I feel like one, my shoulders sagging into themselves as she brushes the tissue away. Her handkerchief has disappeared to her pocket and her posture has been regained.

“June, please. Just go see if Theo is alive or not.”

I sit up straight in my chair like a metal rod has skewered my spine in place. Silence freezes the moment, then I’m out the door on autopilot to the entrance of the gas station. The death grip I have on the rejected tissue lets up as I chuck it into a trash can.

The nauseating smell of gasoline lingers outside, replaced by the scent of beer and grease. The second overhead light from the door flickers, flickers, stays on while all the others don’t. Shelves of processed junk on checkered tile cramp the small space. Further on through the room, past the counter, where the pattern changes into a herringbone of different colour tiles then back to checkers, is a short corridor that leads into a restaurant and bar.

My feet take me to the fridge at the back of the room to get a drink. I avoid the one sticky tile that never gets cleaned and grab a soda. I know before I see it, that although it’s Tuesday afternoon, the bar will be filled—and it is. Now that I’m in front of the hallway, the full force of the ruckus can be seen, felt, and smelt. The lightning pace of the announcer is drowned out by chair scraping, table slamming, groans, and shouts. Men and women crowd around the bar top, beers half-drunk, eyes fixed on the tiny old-timey—wait, no. A larger flat screen. Since when?

“Apparently, we’re losing,” a voice from behind the counter startles me. Ingrid blinks at me from behind her thick bifocals and creases the page of her crossword puzzle.

I place the can on the counter and get a crumpled bill from my pocket. “Really? I thought Nelson was going to be our secret weapon.”

It is impossible to miss the twinkle in Ingrid’s eyes as she answers. She shakes her head, a few grey tendrils coming out of her ponytail. “Apparently, his wife filed for divorce a few days before the game.”

“Dang.”

“Right? Talk about bad timing. I’ve never seen a sorrier team performance.” She bags my single soda for I-don’t-know-what reason and nods to the hallway. “You see that? It’s on the house.”

I smile and stuff the bill back into my pocket. Then I remember why I came inside in the first place. “Did you see Theo come in?”

It’s likely that Ingrid answers me but I don’t hear a word. A familiar orange and black shirt catches the corner of my eye. He hasn’t seen me yet, his back to me. His bellow of a laugh bounces through the hallway to me and he joins the group watching the football match. A sport he doesn’t know the first thing about. Completely logical, of course.

Just like my only response to seeing him, is to rush back to the fridge and grab another can, only nearly missing the sticky tile. Completely logical, I promise.

Ingrid leans over the counter and calls to him. He turns just in time to see me walk up to the counter with a duplicate can and for me to see his grin vanish.

“I’ll pay for this one,” I say, before any more is decided for me, shoving the money into Ingrid’s hand.

Theo is next to the counter as I receive the change. He stares through me as he speaks. “The game’s a shit show.”

He’s talking to me, but he isn’t.

“Ingrid was telling me there’s trouble in paradise for Nelson.” He has no idea which one that is and he knows that I know this.

“Speaking of which,” Theo says. “Did you get a wedding invite, Ingrid?”

Ingrid hands me the soda in another plastic bag, which I give back to her. “They already went out?” Her eyes flick down to my hand and confusion mars her face but she continues anyway. “You know how hard it is to find a last-minute dress?”

In an instant, white-hot anger begins pumping through me. It is a miracle that the store doesn’t catch on fire. I’m very aware of how hard a lot of things are or have become. Finding a dress to come to a wedding that has been called off isn’t one of them.

I shouldn’t be surprised by him. Theo is anything but an idiot. In fact, out of the two of us, he’s the scholar. Well, was the scholar. He failed out of school. Not the regular way as peasants do, of course. He failed his courses by helping other students pass theirs. Time is money, and his time was spent running a lucrative homework scheme before he got caught and expelled.

The fact is though, that I am surprised by him. And hurt. He knows how painful all of it is, especially since he’s choosing to hate me as I become a magnet for loss and failure.

The only successful thing I have left to my name is photography. I’ve worked hard to always line up a great shot. Ones with a story at the forefront. Ones where the average person looked their happiest. Ones that were mundane and formal and uptight.

And yet, when golden hour was at its peak this afternoon, I scrambled away from a shot I would have run towards.

Mom, sitting there, being backlit by the sun, half her face obscured by shadow, crowned with her very own halo. An angel. Something so beautiful, so delicate, so far removed from this tainted world. Irreversibly far removed. Too far.

As I think of Mom, the anger dissipates a bit and Ingrid comes back into focus, waiting for my response.

“The wedding was called off.”

Ingrid gasps. And I turn on my heels and walk out the door, with my bag swinging.

It is impossible to miss the smirk on Theo’s face as I do.

He doesn’t immediately chase after me, but he has matched my pace in no time. “You were being a hypocrite.”

I spin on my heels, almost knocking both of us over. “Are you joking?” My voice is basically a dog whistle.

“You’re fine helping Ingrid spread Nelson’s family problems but I can’t mention yours?”

I’m stunned. He just walks off to the car and Mom starts talking to him. I’m even more stunned.

So I do a completely logical thing: I throw away the original can.

A faint smile is on his lips as I enter the car and throw it in drive. The radio talks for all of us for a while before Mom can’t take it anymore. She turns to me.

“So?” She rubs her hand over her cropped hair. I guess she hated the headscarf. “Should I call the Guinness People for that world record?”

~~~

Even the radio has given up halfway into the drive. The static is driving me crazy so I lower the volume completely. The silence is even worse so I break it.

I stare at Theo in the rear-view mirror, pivoting between being a safe driver and a petty child. “If you didn’t want the soda, you could have just said so.”

His eyes snap to mine immediately. “When? After you had already bought it?”

“You’re such a child.” I overtake an incredibly slow minivan. “Mom, you know he told Ingrid about the wedding being canceled.”

Mom turns in her seat to him behind me, his usual seat. If he had his way, he’d sit behind her, in my usual seat, out of the gaze of the rear-view mirror and Mom’s.

“Why would you do that? You know that old gossip breathes other people’s business.”

“Old gossip? Aren’t you guys friends?”

“I say it as lovingly as possible.”

“So that’s why you didn’t come inside?”

She frowns deeply then turns to face the window. “Is that why you took so long? You thought I’d come get you?”

I am focused on the road and by all accounts, am the dumb one, so it takes me a while.

“So you’re not going to tell her you’re sick again?”

An empty chuckle. “So she can tell the entire universe. God, no.” Mom sighs. “Besides, she might try to organize another fundraiser and then I’d have to explain why there’d be no use for that.”

It is now properly dark out, so all my focus is trained on avoiding the high beams of oncoming traffic. The many twists around the cliff side lead to a straight endless expanse as the silhouette of the bordering hills softens into plains. We cross over two bridges, feeling the jolts of each, before entering a residential area.

But it all feels wrong.

The last time we were on this drive, I was sitting in my seat behind Mom, and Theo was sitting in his seat behind Dad. Mom’s friend, Sonia, had invited us to her newly renovated inn, The Cozy Outlook. We had been loyal customers for years. We didn’t have enough to travel, but every summer or the other, Dad would drive all of us up for a weekend staycation. It didn’t live up to its name back then, but the change of scenery for me and Theo satiated our wanderlust. We haven’t driven like that in almost a year.

I am five minutes away from the inn when my phone rings. It hasn’t stopped dinging since we left the gas station. Liam’s name lights up the screen.

As I pull into the parking lot of the thick, blue brick building, I notice a tall woman smoking nearby, gesturing wildly while on the phone.

I haven’t smoked in almost a year, but I immediately want a cigarette.

“You plan to call him back, yes?” Mom is reclined all the way back in her chair, her voice cracking from sleep.

I sigh, getting the keys out of the ignition. “And tell him what? ‘No, I don’t want to get married now, but yes, I still want to be together’.” Why? Well, I’d like to think mixing student debt with medical bills isn’t the start to a happy marriage. I shake my head at the thought of the conversation playing out.

“If you want to be together, why are you opposed to getting married?” Theo is awake now too. He folds his arms as if he has made a point.

I’m glad that there aren’t many people in the lot outside. It amuses me how enraged I am at everyone in my life right now.

Him, for being a jerk.

Dad, for leaving the two of us without any parents.

Mom, for dying and not trying to do a thing about it.

Ingrid, for airing my dirty laundry to her bar full of people.

Liam, for—

“Because Theo,” I start, enunciating like I’m speaking a foreign language, “sometimes, people do the opposite thing that seems obvious to everyone else. And who are you to police them when they do? Huh? Mr. I-don't-give-a-damn-I’ll-throw-away-forty-thousand-dollars-to-become-a-degenerate.”

I am huffing when I’m done so I open one of Liam’s messages. Even while we are broken up, he has kept his ability to calm me down.

‘This popped up in my memories,’ followed by a picture of us wearing bright smiles on prom night when we were still only friends. I blink back tears that sting my eyes. Liam, for being good to me when I’m awful to everyone else.

The passenger door flings open.

“I’m sorry,” Mom interrupts his tantrum. She is unable to blink back her tears and she twists to face both of us, then Theo specifically, half his body out of the car. “I’m sorry that you felt the need to do that. Your father and I were working on it, but you wanted to step up. And I am so proud to have watched you do that, to try to take care of us as the baby of the family.”

Theo sits back down, sniffling and I snap my head to him. He immediately looks out the window.

Mom continues. “But I don’t want you to jeopardize your future any further. Alright? I’m taking care of it. Promise me you won’t.”

He’s frozen in his place except for his leg, which bounces in its spot, shaking the entire car. I place my hand on his knee and he allows it. Maybe he thinks it’s Mom and not me, but I won’t correct him for the time being.

“He won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

Mom looks at me intently, her face streaked with tears, and starts to laugh. “God, it’s like the two of you got body swapped or something.”

I must look visibly confused.

“I mean, maybe this is the sort of thing parents don’t admit but under my circumstances, I must say, my money was on Theodore.”

Now, I must look visibly amused.

Or, maybe he just wanted control over this horrible event that affected him, as the neurotic control freak he used to be. And I was hardly being helpful as the free-range wildcard I used to be.

“Was?” we both say at the same time.

“Yes, but seeing as you canceled your wedding out of thin air.” And my smile drops again. “I need to know. I can’t screw up both of my kids before I leave. Did it have anything to do with me?”

The wind ruffles through the tall tree canopy. I speak just as quietly. “… It was just too much happening at once.”

Mom gives the world’s tiniest, saddest smile. “Juniper, even when I’m not here I want you to have the happiest life. So marry Liam. He’s great. Or don’t.” She shrugs like it really could be that simple. “But I want it to be your decision. Don’t hold out because of mine.”

“Or mine,” Theo grins.

I scoff. “As if I do anything because of you.”

“You wasted two-fifty earlier this afternoon being a child.”

“No, I threw away the free one.” I flip my phone in my hand, then shove it in his face. “Thanks for that by the way.”

“Yeah, jerk move,” he says, about to get out again. “Wow, Ingrid really outdid herself.”

“Wait,” Mom says, pulling out tissues for all of us. “We can’t go in looking like the poor, unfortunate family.”

I check my reflection and grimace.

“They’d probably say ‘That poor family, they’ve been through so much’.”

“We don’t have to look like it. I’m dying, yes, but not right this instant. Just like everybody else.”

It’s the first time she’s said it aloud since the second recurrence. And she does have a point. Mom ended up outliving Dad. Who would’ve thought? An accident beating someone avoiding death for the third time.

“Now, I don’t know about you all, but I intend to try all four pools before the night is over .”

That’s all we’re sure of anyway.