Page 143 of The Cheerleader

“I don’t know if Dad will want me home⁠—”

“Don’t pay attention to him. I want to see you.”

“I’ll fly you out to California—you and Wally.”

She laughs. “That’s a dream.” Then she lowers her voice, “If you send me a ticket, I’ll go.”

She doesn’t believe me. Maybe I don’t believe it either. Not yet. I’m not there yet.

“You going by yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you have a girl. Why are you hiding her from me?”

“I’m not sure she’s mine. It’s too new between us.”

“What about Liz? She’s always been after you.”

“Don’t say that, Mom. It’s not true.”

She snorts a laugh. “You know I’m right. You can’t fool me.”

“Why would I want to?” I finally admit. “Liz… isn’t happy with me, but she’s like my sister.”

“It’s what I thought. And this new girl that has your fancy?”

“My fancy?” I snort.

“Don’t stall. What’s her name? Who is she?”

“Susie Bennett. She’s from Suffield.”

“I know her family. She’s in the auxiliary and he’s in the Lion’s Club.”

“Susie is… beautiful. A beautiful person.”

There’s a beat before Mom speaks, and I swear I hear a sob. “Oh Bryan, I’m so happy you found someone. Does she love you too?”

My heart accelerates at the L word coming out of my mother’s mouth. This conversation just got too close to the bone for me. “Mom, I have to go now.”

But before we have a chance to say good-bye, I hear her distressed sob as my old man’s voice travels toward the phone. He shouts a string of swears so loud as he reaches the receiver that it hurts my eardrum. Then the line goes dead as if he ripped the fucking phone from the wall.

I don’t bother calling back, but I swear I’m going home to check on Mom and Wally as soon as I get a chance. I hang up my phone with extra care.

“Everything good?” Eldy asks. Mack and Chuck are helping him stow all the shit he bought.

“The usual. Mom’s glad for me, and the old man’s disowned me.”

“Shit. That’s harsh,” Chuck says. “What the fuck for?”

“Long story,” I say, not wanting to get into it. Not now. I’m numb, and I want to stay that way. I yawn. “I’m going to take a nap.” We were up late last night talking about the 49ers, pooling everything we know about them.

“Not used to late nights, Mr. Farmer,” Chuck says. “Gonna have to get used to California time.” I flick him my middle finger and give him a smirk. They all laugh at me.

I close the door after me and lock it, then flop onto my mattress, needing to release all the thoughts, all the things happening, and I blank my mind.

The room is dark when I open my eyes and hear the knocking on my door.