“I hired a pharmacist. His name is Frank.”
“You hired . . .”
“You’ll like him, Mom. He’s a lot like Dad.”
“But what about the ordering, paying the bills, stocking the shelves, deliveries?”
I didn’t answer.
She sighed. “Oh, Sam. I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“This was supposed to be your summer. Your graduation. You’ve missed it all, haven’t you?”
“Nothing to miss, really. Ernie said most of the parties were lame. He and Mickie spent most nights here with me.”
“Mickie,” she said. “She needs you, Sam.”
I was no longer so certain. “I learned how to cook and do the laundry, so that’s a good thing, right?”
She closed her eyes and took maybe the first deep breath she had taken since my father’s stroke. Then she said, “We’re going to get back on track now, Sam, now that you’re leaving for college.”
I looked away.
“Sam?”
“I’m not going, Mom.”
She put up a hand. “Yes, you are.”
“Not this year.”
“Sam, I realize you’ve felt the need to take care of everything for your father and me, but I can handle this now. Your father has good care, and that will give me some time during the day.”
“I already asked for a year deferral from the admissions office.”
“Well, un-ask.”
I shook my head. “It’s done. They’ve reallocated my financial aid and assigned Ernie a new roommate.”
She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes, sobbing. I knelt at the foot of her chair and touched her forearms. “Mom, it’s okay. This was my decision, and I’m fine with it. I’ll take the year to learn to run the business. It will be the best education I could ever receive. And the money I earn, along with my scholarships and the financial aid package, will pay my tuition. When you have Dad set, you can take over for me. You’ll need the income, and it will keep you busy during the day.”
She lowered her hands and gripped mine. “Promise me, Sam. Promise me next fall you’ll go—no matter what.”
“I promise,” I said. “Absolutely.”
She took another deep breath and exhaled.
After a bit I said, “I better go clean up the peas.”
“No. You’ve done enough.” She stood. “I saw a movie on the table.”
“Mickie and I were going to watch it, but she had to go home.”
“If you wouldn’t mind the company, I could use a distraction.”
“I’ll clean up the peas and make popcorn,” I said.
“Forget the damn peas,” my mother said.
28
The next morning, I awoke early, but my mother had already cleaned up the mess in the kitchen and left to be with my father. I picked up flowers and drove the El Camino. I would tell Mickie that I hoped she didn’t regret what we had done, because I didn’t. I would tell her that it wasn’t going to ruin our friendship, because I wanted to be more than friends. I loved Mickie. I knew it then, and I was convinced it could be the same kind of love my mother and father shared. What was better, after all, than being in love with your best friend?
Walking up the driveway, I felt butterflies and had to tell myself this was the same person with whom, twelve hours earlier, I would have shared my darkest secrets. Joanna answered, looking up at me with her big brown eyes from beneath wisps of bangs and smiling brightly. “Hi, Sam.”