In My Shoes (24 page)

“Oh. No, I don’t think…”

“Please, you don’t have to make any excuses.
I should have had this conversation with you a long time ago. For
the longest time, it was too hard for me to think or talk about,
and I really felt you were too young anyway. As you got older, it
just became easier not to talk about it, especially since you
stopped asking.”

“Well, I felt like it was a subject that
wasn’t welcome.” Fortunately Jake had told me that much about his
dad.

“I know, and that’s my fault. I am so sorry.”
She was teary eyed, and trying real hard to keep it together.

“Mom, it’s okay. Maybe now isn’t the time to
have this conversation, though.” I can’t imagine how Jake would
take hearing about his father from me. How would I tell him?

“No, if I don’t do it now, I may never. You
have a right to know. You’re father…he died when you were about
five years old.”

“How…how did he die?” I asked somberly. I
wanted to cry, and this wasn’t even my dad.

“I don’t exactly know. We had not had a lot
of contact, because he left when you were about two. It does you no
good to hear a slanted story, so I’m going to do my best to tell
you everything from the beginning, as unbiased as possible. It’s
taken me a long time to work some of this out.

“Your father and I were pretty young when you
were born. I had always wanted to have a child, and here you were,
my little bundle of joy. I never really imagined having more kids,
and giving birth didn’t exactly convince me otherwise.

“Your father wanted to have more kids, but
more importantly he wanted more…
quality time
…with me. He
seemed to always be complaining that I was distant and that I
wasn’t fulfilling his needs. If I’m being honest with myself, he
was probably right. At the time, I didn’t want to hear it. I was
confident that I was a good wife because I kept the house clean and
took care of you while he worked. I thought that should have been
good enough.

“As time went on, we became more distant,
until…one day he just left. He moved out with no notice. Really, I
should have seen it coming. I should have seen there was something
wrong. I mean, it’s not like we had big fights. We argued, but I
didn’t think much of it. I obviously didn’t take it seriously
enough.

“When he left, I was so angry. I didn’t have
a job, and now I was in need of one fast. I had no family to help
me. If it hadn’t have been for our old neighbor, Mrs. Kaplan, I
don’t know what I would have done. She watched you a lot while I
found a job, and then continued to watch you when you were really
young until she moved back East to be with her sick brother.

“Anyway, your father returned a few weeks
later with divorce papers. I was crushed. I mean, I didn’t expect
us to get back together, but I had never imagined myself divorced.
It was a culture shock, and it added to my resentment for him. Your
father moved to New York and took a good job there. He sent child
support, which we agreed to mutually, every month. He never missed
a payment.”

“What did he do for a living?” I asked
quietly. I was having a hard time finding my voice. I felt
numb.

“He managed a small chain of stores out here.
I’m not really sure what he did in New York.”

“So, that’s it? He just sent child support,
and then he died?”

“Well, no. When you were about four, he
called out of the blue. He sounded bad. Not sick, but kind of
distraught. He said he wanted to see you. I think he felt guilty
with how things had turned out. You know, early on, he was a great
father. He’d come home from work, and the first thing he did was
come see you. He’d hold you in his arms while he watched TV. As
things fell apart, he seemed to lose his perspective. Maybe he felt
that you were the reason he and I weren’t so close.

“Which you weren’t!” she added quickly. “It’s
just that he became unhappy, and made some bad decisions.

“So,” she continued, “he came to town, and we
met so that he could see you. After two years, I was as angry as
ever at him. For leaving me, for being absent in your life…of
course, I wasn’t exactly beating his door down to get him to see
you. I guess I was selfish. I felt like he had left us both, and it
probably made it easier to feel like he didn’t leave just me.

“He stayed in town for a few days, and he
tried to see you as much as I would allow. I let him see you each
day he was here, but I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. He tried
to be civil, but there wasn’t much I was willing to talk about with
him. When his trip was complete, your father told me he would
return when he could, sometime in the next year.”

“Did he ever come back?” I barely found my
voice to ask the question. I was stunned. I was pretty sure tears
were streaming from my eyes.

“No. I think he died about six months after
that.”

“So, how do you know he…died?”

“I received a certified package one day, and
inside was a very brief letter from an attorney, stating that he
had died and that he had left his savings and his life insurance
policy in your name. I have been the trustee of your account since
then, and until you turn eighteen. You’re not going to be rich off
of it, but there’s enough money in it for you to go to college,
just about anywhere you want to go. Then you’ll have a good down
payment for a home. When the times comes, of course.”

My first thought was happiness for Jake,
followed by concern that his mom has been living so meagerly for
this whole time, keeping Jake’s money safe. I wasn’t sure how Jake
was going to feel about this, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Uhh…okay, I have a whole lot to think about
here. I have more questions, but I’d like to have some time to
process all of this.”

“I completely understand. When you are ready,
I will answer any questions I can.”

Jake’s mom had been sitting on his bed for
most of the conversation. She got up and started walking out of the
room.

“Jake,” she said, turning back toward me,
“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For waiting so long to tell you. For being
so angry at your father. For…not doing a better job looking out for
your interests.”

I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want
to speak for Jake on this. I smiled, hoping she would take comfort
from it. She smiled back and walked away.

I couldn’t believe what just happened. My
head was spinning. I needed to talk to Jake, but I didn’t know how.
I didn’t know when either. I didn’t think I wanted to rush the
conversation with him before school. I didn’t know if he’d be angry
or happy, sad or even confused. Plus, I didn’t know how he was
going to feel about me hearing it from his mother instead of him
hearing it from her.

I decided to text him. I told him I needed to
talk to him at lunch…alone. Once I sent the text, I headed to the
bathroom to take a shower.

When I got out of the shower, I headed back
to Jake’s room and checked my phone for messages. Jake had texted
back, asking what was wrong. I texted him back to let him know that
everything was fine, but I needed to talk to him privately and I
needed more than a few minutes to have the conversation.

After sending the text, I returned to getting
dressed. Jake responded back a few minutes later. “Okay. The
mystery is making me a little nervous, but I’ll meet you at
lunch.”

I felt bad leaving things so vague, but any
information I gave him now would lead to more questions. Saying
anything would lead to us having the whole conversation, and we
just didn’t have time for that.

I finished getting ready for school and
headed to the kitchen to have some breakfast. Jake’s mom was still
getting ready, so I was able to eat in private. I was thankful not
to have to try and make conversation at this point.

Mike arrived as I was putting my dishes in
the dishwasher. He walked in and leaned up against the counter as I
finished up.

“How’s it hangin’?”

“How’s what hangin’?” I asked.

“It’s an expression.”

“It must be a guy expression.”

“What’s up? How’s that, better?”

“I guess so.” I think he was being playful,
but I wasn’t really in the playful mood.

“Okay, then. Are you ready to go?” he
asked.

“Yeah, just let me get my stuff.”

For the first few days after the switch, I
kept looking around for my purse, before I would realize I didn’t
have one. Not having my purse is like cutting off my arm. As a
girl, you just get used to always having it with you. I’m starting
to learn my new routines, which means today I grabbed my things
without actually looking for a purse.

Mike has been taking me to school every
morning. It’s a little awkward on the trips because we have so
little to talk about. He tries to make conversation, but usually
it’s kind of obnoxious. I think I’ve figured out that he’s not a
bad guy, but he tries
way
too hard. Everything he says is
either an attempt to be funny or to try and sound smart, which is
especially humorous since his vocabulary is so bad.

Today was no different. He started talking
about how it would have been cool to switch bodies with a girl
because chicks have it so easy. I stopped him there.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“You are so obnoxious. I mean, what exactly
are you trying to accomplish by saying all of the garbage you
say?”

“Whatever. Like I care what you say.”

“The thing is, Mike, I think you do care what
I say. I think you care what almost everyone says. You try so hard
to be funny and act smart because you want everyone to like you.
And what’s worse, you act dumb on purpose to be funny and you make
like you’re too smart to care. But, if you didn’t try so hard,
people would like you, and they would like you for who you really
are.”

“What makes you think you know anything about
me?”

“Well, in the last week, I’ve kind of
overdosed on Mike. I’ve gotten plenty of exposure to you.”

“That’s not my fault,” he said
defensively.

I realized I had unnecessarily been raising
my voice. After taking a deep breath, I started over.

“Look, I’m not trying to be mean. Tell me,
how many girlfriends have you had?”

“Why?”

“Just tell me.”

“I’m not playin’.”

“Okay, never mind,” I said.

After a few minutes, he finally answered.
“One.”

“One what?” I asked. I had already gotten
lost in another thought.

“One girlfriend,” he said. Mike was clearly
uncomfortable with the conversation.

“How many girls have you asked out?” I
asked.

“I don’t know. What does it matter?”

“I’m trying to make a point.”

“So, why don’t you get to your point?”

“I need your answer before I can make my
point.”

“I don’t know. I’ve asked a lot of girls out.
I don’t keep a list.”

“I don’t need an exact answer. A lot will do.
My point is you’ve asked a lot of girls out, and you’ve had one
girlfriend, which means you’ve had a lot of girls tell you no.”

“No, no, no. I’ve had one girlfriend, but
I’ve had more than one date.”

“What, two?” I asked.

“You know what? I’m done.”

“Mike,” I said, trying to sound thoughtful,
“let me finish. You’re not a bad looking guy. I know for a fact
that there are girls at our school who think you’re good looking.
The thing they don’t like is that you seem fake.”

“I’m not fake,” he said, this time more hurt
than angry.

“What I mean is you
act
fake. You play
dumb, but you’re actually kind of smart. You try way too hard to
impress people, usually by playing dumb or trying to be funny. It’s
just so unnecessary.”

He didn’t say anything. I didn’t know if I
had made him so angry he couldn’t talk, or if he was thinking about
it.

“Look, all I’m trying to say, is be yourself.
That doesn’t mean be rude and obnoxious and act dumb. It means, you
are smart, so study and do something with your brains. It means use
what God gave you to be somebody a girl would want to get to know.
It means don’t always feel like you need to say something to make
people laugh. Sometimes, it’s actually okay to let people know what
you are thinking…and feeling.”

“So,” he said after a few minutes, “who
thinks I’m cute?”

“Please tell me that’s not all you got out of
this conversation.”

“It’s not. What do you expect me to say?”

“I don’t know, but not that. Think about what
I said, Mike. I’m actually trying to help.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

We arrived at school about fifteen minutes
early. You know, for all of Mike’s flaws, he never seems to be
late.

“Thanks for the ride, Mike,” I said, trying
to sound upbeat.

“Sure.” Mike was not nearly as upbeat.

“Hey,” I said. He turned to look at me. “I
was
trying to help. Maybe it wasn’t my place to say
anything, but I just felt I should say it. I thought a girl’s
perspective might do you some good.”

“Maybe.” I couldn’t tell if he was sincere or
not. Mike still wasn’t in a good mood, but I didn’t really expect
him to be after that.

We both headed toward the boys’ locker room
when I saw Jake waiting out front.

“Hey, Mike,” Jake said. “Do you mind if I
talk to…Jake…for a second?” he said looking around for
passersby.

“Be my guest. Later.”

Jake watched Mike walk away and then he
turned to me. “He seems in a bad mood. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, we just had a conversation this
morning, and I might have been a little critical of him.”

“Oh boy. I know how your ‘little critical’
conversations can go,” he said smiling. “What did you say?”

“Well, he started rambling about this and
that and he told me it would be cool to switch bodies with a girl
because ‘chicks’ have it so easy.”