BFF Breakup (11 page)

“That's okay. The point of the Hot Tamale is, after all, to set the inside of your mouth on fire. Otherwise they'd be called Warm Tamales.”

“Truly. Let's start Operation Lockdown. If we go to
my room now, we might be able to avoid all adults until tomorrow morning.”

As we started toward the stairs, Mom came out of her bedroom looking stiff and ramrod, like she wanted another fight.

“Oh. Brooke,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Miss Rachel,” Brooke said.

Mom looked at me and said, “Normally we ask before we have company over.”

I felt myself bubble with anger. Didn't she have more important things to do than try to make my life miserable? Besides . . .
company
? Was she serious?

“It's not company,” I said. “It's Brooke. And I told Dad.”

“Told or asked?”

“He didn't say anything,” I said. I was really, truly starting to hate Mom. Why was she always starting fights like this? What was the point? Just to show us who was boss?

She looked at Brooke and put this totally fake smile on. “I'm sorry, honey,” she told her. “But Madeline's father and I need to talk to the children tonight. It needs to be family only. Madeline really should have checked with me first.”

“I said I told Dad.” She acted like she was the sole
authority in the house and Dad had no power.

She ignored me and said to Brooke, “I'm really sorry. And tell your mother I need to place another order with her. Those hibiscus candles are amazing!”

With that, she shot me a warning look and went back into her bedroom. Brooke and I stood there for a moment, stunned. I couldn't believe I had just made last night up to her and now I had to send her home, Hot Tamales and all.

“I'm sorry,” I said, feeling on the verge of tears because my mother had been so cruel. Since when did she care when Brooke came over, or want to have a family night? “She's been such a jerk lately.”

“It's okay,” Brooke said, but I could tell she was hurt. I didn't blame her. “I hope everything's okay, family talk and all.”

“Who knows,” I sighed.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said. “Okay?”

As I watched her walk down the slope of my backyard, she looked so dejected, her bag dragging on the grass and the box of candy hanging limply in her hand. As she walked into the trees toward her house, I thought I saw her toss the Hot Tamales into the creek.

It turned out Mom and Dad really did want to talk. Like, serious talk. They even made Josh cancel his plans
to go get pizza with some girl from his calc class.

Josh sat slumped on the couch, and folded his arms across his chest in what Mom would call the “typical sullen teenager” look. The faux-hawk of his dirty blond hair was looking kind of limp, and his shirt and jeans were nicely torn and food-stained. Actually, for Josh he looked like he was ready for Saturday night.

“What do you think they want?” I asked, sitting next to him. Maybe Mom got promoted again and we were moving? I think she'd said the company headquarters were in Seattle. I briefly wondered if I'd like it there, or if Brooke's family would let me move in with her until I graduated high school.

“Man, Madeline, you can be so clueless,” Josh grunted, like he was doing me a huge favor by even acknowledging my presence.

“What, like I'm supposed to know what this is about?”

“I wish they'd just get it over with,” he said, looking toward the hallway. “I have plans tonight and I'm not canceling them.”

When Mom and Dad finally came into the living room, Dad looked miserable, his eyes droopy and his mouth set tight. Mom stood straight and tall, her shoulders pulled back, and her face steely and set. Seeing them each like
that gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. This definitely wasn't about Seattle.

“You both know we love you, and this isn't anyone's fault,” Mom said, and right then, right at that moment, I knew what was coming. “This has been a hard time for all of us, and it might be a bit harder for a while, but in the end, it'll be for the best. Your father and I have decided to separate. I'll be moving into a small apartment near work. . . .”

A ringing began in my ears, distant at first, then louder until it was all I could hear. Mom's mouth kept moving, Dad stood with his hands in his track pants' pockets, and Josh leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees and his head in his hands. I knew what was happening; I knew it before the words slipped out of Mom's mouth but somehow it
couldn't
be happening. I couldn't believe it.

“. . . can come see me anytime. Eventually I'll move into a bigger place, and you'll each have your own room. . . .”

Obviously I knew it wasn't normal how much they fought. Some part of me knew they weren't happy, but people fight, just like Brooke and I had. They fight and then they get over it. I'm sure Brooke's parents fought sometimes too; just not in front of anyone. But they had to fight sometimes. Right?

“Our love for you hasn't changed. We want you to know that your father and I are both here for you. . . .”

I remembered what Susanna had said when I told her how much my parents fought. She told me that in a lot of ways things
did
get better once her parents split up. “Now the only time they fight is over the phone, when one of them thinks they're not getting enough time with us or something. But it beats the in-person fights. By far.”

I thought I hated their fighting more than anything, but suddenly I realized that fighting was better than divorcing. Mom, moving out? How was that possible? And wasn't the dad supposed to be the one to leave? I wanted to ask, but tears were now rolling down my cheeks, and I couldn't bring myself to form the words anyway. Maybe I didn't want to know the answer. (Because she loved her job more than us?)

“Can I go now?” Josh asked. Mom nodded, and when Josh stood up she gave him a big hug but his arms stayed limp by his sides. Dad squeezed his shoulder, and Josh shrugged him off.

Mom sat down next to me and put her arm around me. She pulled me tight and I started crying more. I fell into her chest and bawled like a big baby. Then Dad was on the other side of me, rubbing my back and saying, “It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay.” It only made me cry
harder. This feeling of having both my parents on either side of me, I realized, was probably the last time I'd ever have them together. I sobbed until my eyes hurt, and, in a moment, I wanted to get away from both of them. I let go of Mom, stood up, and told them I was going to my room. I
told
Mom; I didn't ask for her permission. When I got there, I slammed the door shut, and no one said a thing.

I took my cell phone into my closet, shut the door, and kept the light off. I called Susanna. “It's happened,” I said. “It finally happened. They're getting a divorce.”

“Oh my god, Mad, I'm so sorry,” she said. “It's awful, I know, but I'm here if you need anything. Did your dad move out?” When I told her Mom was going instead, she said, “Wow. That's different.”

“I feel so dumb,” I sniffled. “It's like I knew it was coming but thought that maybe it wouldn't. I don't know why I'm so surprised. I just can't imagine not living with both of them. And visiting Mom, in some apartment? She said I'd have my own room but I already have a room. It's like they don't get it. They're only thinking about themselves.”

“I know it sounds dumb to say,” Susanna said, “but you'll get used to it. And in some ways having only one parent in the house is kind of cool. Not as much red tape to go through when you want to do something, you
know?” That made me smile, and I knew I was lucky to have someone who understood firsthand.

An hour later I emerged from my closet feeling slightly better. I was as exhausted as I'd ever been in my entire life. All I wanted to do was go to sleep, so I crawled into bed and did just that, even though it was only 8:00 on a Saturday night.

The next day I mostly stayed in my room. Mom was at the office (or maybe apartment hunting?), Josh was with his friends, and Dad was locked up in the study. It wasn't until that evening that I sent Brooke an IM about what was happening. Going through it and then telling Susanna about it had totally drained me. I didn't feel like talking about it anymore.

Horrible night. Parents divorcing. Life sucks.

I logged off before she had a chance to respond, and crawled into bed.

M
Y STOMACH DROPPED WHEN I SAW
Madeline's IM. I immediately called her cell even though it was after 9:00 and I wasn't supposed to use the phone past 8:00. She didn't answer, and I wondered what was happening right then at her house. I wished that I could go over there to be with her.

“It's me,” I said into her voice mail. “I can't believe that about your parents. I'm so sorry, Mads. I'm here, at home, if you want to call or come over,
or we can meet at the creek for a while if you can get out of the house. If not, I'll see you in the morning, okay? Okay. You'll be fine! Hang in there!”

I probably sounded like an idiot, but I didn't know what to say. Her parents did fight a lot. I'm sure it was a total joy living there when they were going at it. My parents might have been lame to the point of boring but at least they didn't scream at each other in front of me and Abbey.

Luckily, Monday was our day to drive to school so I didn't have to worry about the awkwardness of seeing her mom. I watched for Madeline out the living room window and when I saw her coming across the creek I went outside to meet her. I took her in a big hug and said, “Are you okay?”

She dropped her head onto my shoulder, but didn't put her arms around me. “I'm okay,” she muttered into my hair.

When I pulled back, I noticed her eyes were puffy but otherwise she looked as cute as always, and was even wearing a little extra makeup—some darker eye shadow and mascara. She wore black tights beneath a hunter green pleated skirt and a dark top.

“You look cute,” I told her as we walked toward the driveway where Mom waited in the car.

“Thanks.”

In the car she didn't say a word; thankfully neither did Mom. I told her last night what was happening (“Oh, goodness,” she'd said. “Those poor kids”), but I hadn't thought to tell her to keep quiet today and before getting out of the car at school, she said, “Madeline, sweetheart, you know you're always welcome at our house. Okay?”

Madeline's eyes welled up; she nodded okay and slid out of the car.

We didn't say anything on the way to our lockers to get our books for first period. I kept sneaking glances at her, thinking maybe she'd turn to me and tell me what I should do or what she wanted most right then. I didn't know how to make her feel better and basically assumed it couldn't be done anyway. How can you cheer someone up when their parents are splitting? She had a right to be sad.

When we got to our lockers, Susanna was there waiting for Madeline. Like she could make everything okay just like that. I thought Madeline was going to ignore her, or give her a weary look like the one she'd been wearing all morning. Instead, she dropped her bag on the floor and stepped into Susanna's arms. And not only did Susanna hug her, but Madeline hugged her back. I stood by for a moment and wondered if I should rub Madeline's back or something. Some people stared as they walked by. I couldn't tell if Madeline was crying or not, but it was sort
of intense. Finally I rubbed her back, and then she stood up, took a deep breath, and told Susanna, “Thanks.”

“I told you,” she said. “It sucks. But I promise, it'll get better.”

I stood beside them, feeling like I was in the way. Maybe I was jealous at how much Susanna was already helping Madeline out. I know it wasn't a contest or anything and it was a dumb thing to think, but I couldn't help it. I shook the thought from my head, truly glad someone could help and understand what she was going through. Mom said it was called
empathy
.

Later that afternoon we walked to lunch together and I told Madeline I'd buy her an ice-cream sandwich to cheer her up. “Ice cream always makes things better,” I said, and she smiled.

“You sit down,” I told her, leading her to a table out of the way of traffic and several tables over from where Susanna and the girls had taken to sitting. I figured we could just get away from everything, and Mads and I could talk or not talk, whatever she wanted. I would baby her, or treat her like a princess, even though we were not the princess-y types. The point was to make her feel good when she was feeling so bad. The point, I realized, was to
be there
for her. “Relax, and I'll go get the ice cream. You must eat it before your sandwich. Dessert first today!”