From the Top - Chapter 35

It took us just over four hours to get to Chapel Hill. We were quiet most of the way after I filled in Kat about everything that had happened, including revealing some of what she told me about Hanna’s relationship to Hanna’s mother. We’d already said just about everything we could say regarding Hanna’s relationship, and we were both worried about what Hanna might do.

She could be so irrational when it came to her relationships, it wasn’t hard to imagine her going off the deep end and making some irreversible decisions. Especially right now, while she was feeling pushed by her mother.

With the campus mostly empty, since kids were all back home for the holiday, we at least got to park close to the building. Kat swiped her card to get into the dorm, and we hurried inside, practically running up the steps to their floor. We found her in her room, curled up on her bed, shoulders shaking as she cried into her pillow.

She must have heard us come in because she lifted her head, cheeks stained with tears.

“He hates me!” she wailed. “I ruined everything!”

“What happened?” Kat asked gently, going to sit on the bed next to her.

“I was so upset after what happened with my mom that I wasn’t thinking straight. I promised him I wouldn’t call him at home because of how sick his wife is and how he doesn’t want to upset her when the end is so close. But I... I wasn’t thinking,” she said, sniffling.

She paused to grab a tissue from the box on her nightstand and blew her nose.

“As soon as he picked up and realized it was me, he got angry. He told me I shouldn’t have called and he couldn’t talk. Then he just hung up on me!” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “Now he’s going to break up with me, I just know it. This is all my mom’s fault. Why couldn’t she just leave it alone!”

She dissolved into tears again. Kat gathered her into a hug, patting her hair gently.

“He was so mad,” Hanna mumbled into Kat’s shoulder. “I don’t know if he’ll stay with me now.”

“Hanna,” I said gently, sitting down on the bed next to her and Kat. “If he really loved you, he would be with you. Not trying to have you and his wife and kids too.”

“You don’t understand,” she said defensively. “He can’t just leave his wife right now, not while she’s so sick and he doesn’t want to upset his kids. She hasn’t been able to ‘be’ with him for a long time, but he doesn’t think his kids will understand why he had to find someone else. Once she’s gone, things will be different. He’ll be able to tell everyone and it’ll be okay.”

Kat and I exchanged a look over her. The level of denial was just staggering. I tried not to say anything, but the words escaped before I could stop them.

“Do you really believe the only thing stopping his kids from accepting a relationship with a girl ten years younger than they are, and thirty years younger than their father, is their sick mother?”

“You don’t get it, Charlie. Neither of you do!” she said, lifting her head from Kat’s shoulder. “It’s complicated. You get to judge who I love?”

I held up my hands in a placating gesture. “Hanna, I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just want you to come home.”

“Why should I?” she spat bitterly. “So my mother can call me a slut and hit me again?”

“No, so we can have a truce,” I said gently. “We won’t bring up your relationship with Professor Cross anymore. We’ll leave it alone.”

Hanna shook her head defiantly. “It’s too late for that. I can’t just pretend everything is fine after the horrible things she said to me. And she hit me, Charlie! Her own daughter!”

“I know,” I said somberly. “What your mom did was wrong. But you said some pretty harsh things too. Neither of you is innocent here.”

“Your mom feels terrible about how things went down. She wants to make it right between you two. If she’s willing to try and work with you, avoid the topic of Professor Cross, shouldn’t you think about coming home?”

Hanna’s lower lip trembled as the fight drained out of her.

“Look, you can have both, keep seeing Professor Cross and have your family too. Maybe you can’t mix the two parts of your life, but I’m pretty sure the Professor doesn’t want you talking about your relationship anyway,” I said, trying to nudge her to the right decision gently.

She looked torn. I think part of her wanted to keep arguing, that Cross loved her and wanted to be in her life, but the rest of her knew I was right. He’d almost certainly told her not to talk about their relationship to anyone else. I’d put money on that.

“I’ll try,” she said. “But she can’t keep at me. I won’t talk about him, but she can’t either.”

“That’s the deal,” I said.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she said, wiping her eyes.

***

Things calmed down when we got back home. Mrs. Phillips apologized for both hitting Hanna and what she said, and the two avoided mentioning Professor Cross entirely. I knew it wasn’t a permanent solution, and the truce would hold until either that relationship hit its inevitable, and probably ugly, end or things progressed between them, forcing Mrs. Phillips to break her silence.

Not the perfect solution, but it allowed Thanksgiving to happen, which was one of the big things Mrs. Phillips wanted. Besides the three of us, we’d invited Chef like last year, along with people in our close circle who didn’t come from Wellsville like Warren, Seth, and Lyla. I’d assumed out of that, Lyla probably wouldn’t come, since Tabitha was from here and they were dating, so I was surprised when both Seth and Warren said they were going back to their hometowns for the holiday, but Lyla accepted the invitation, and said she was bringing Tabitha with her.

It was a little surprising, but we’d offered it in good faith, so we accepted both, plus Chef, of course. I did feel a little bad about the fact that we invited Chef, but then he supplied the bulk of the food. But not so bad that I didn’t take him up on his offer to cook for us. Especially as we gathered around the large oak table in the dining room, the warm smells of roasted turkey, buttery mashed potatoes, and homemade cranberry sauce filling the air. Chef was a talented man, an amazing instructor, and a phenomenal martial artist, but it was his cooking where the man reached his pinnacle. It wasn’t a surprise I’d been able to get weight back on me, eating with him over the last three years.

“Everything looks amazing, Mrs. Phillips,” I said, sliding into a seat.

“Well, we all have Chef to thank for that.”

“You made the pies, though,” Chef pointed out.

“Yes, yes I did,” she said, sitting down and looking pleased. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you all here. After so many years of just Hanna and I for occasions like this, it fills my heart to have a full table. I’m so happy you all could make it.”

“Here, here,” Chef said, raising his glass, which everyone else copied.

“I was going to say grace, if no one minds. I know you’re a Buddhist, Chef...”

“By all means, offer whatever blessings you like,” he said, waving it away. “We don’t have a taboo against saying nice things over food. Plus, it’s your house, after all.”

They’d had the exact same conversation last year, but I liked that she didn’t assume it was still okay.

“Tabitha’s an atheist,” Lyla said, which got a scowl from Tabitha, who hated being in the spotlight.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mrs. Phillips said, placing a hand flat on the table between them. “We can do it silently if you prefer.”

“No, no,” Tabitha said again, waving a hand emphatically. “Like Chef Tang said, it’s your house.”

“Just Chef,” Lyla murmured under her breath, getting a look from Tabitha and a laugh out of Chef.

“Okay. Thank you,” she said, reaching her hand out to Tabitha, who took it, looking a little uncomfortable.

She then grabbed Hanna’s hand, who was on her left side, and we all followed suit.

“Dear Lord,” Mrs. Phillips began, “we thank you for this wonderful meal and for all of us being able to be together today. I thank you for my wonderful found family who’ve joined us today and for my beautiful, brilliant daughter, who I don’t tell often enough how proud I am of the smart, confident young woman she’s become.”

I peeked an eye open and looked over at Kat, who did the same. To everyone else, that must have seemed like the normal thing a loving mother would say, and it was completely in line with Mrs. Phillips’s personality, but after the previous day’s blowup, it felt like she was overdoing it. From the way Hanna’s hand stiffened in mine, I think she might have felt the same way.

Even with the truce, things had been a little uncomfortable since we brought Hanna back with us. Hanna had been much quieter and reserved than normal, and her mother had gone the other way, being way too over-affectionate, probably from the guilt of slapping her. I could see why it was happening and it made sense, but I really did wish things would get a little more back to normal.

“And please bless our small family as we go on to exciting things this year. Watch over the ones we send far away and protect the ones who stay here with us. We pray for your blessings over those we have lost this year, hold them close to you in everlasting peace. Help us make each day joyful, providing us with the will and the patience to see ourselves and our loved ones through all the challenges ahead. In your name, we pray. Amen.”

Everyone at the table mumbled ‘amens’ along with her, except Tabitha, who gave an awkward smile.

We all began passing dishes around the table, heaping our plates high with turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and all the fixings Chef had prepared. As we ate, Mrs. Phillips kept the conversation going. Unfortunately for Tabitha, as the newest members to our gatherings, she and Lyla got the most attention.

“So Tabitha, where are you originally from?” Mrs. Phillips asked.

Tabitha swallowed a bite of food. “Oh, I grew up here in Wellsville actually. Lived here my whole life.”

“Oh, it’s so wild; even in a small town like this, there are people I don’t really know. Of course, I’ve only been here for fifteen years myself, but that’s still a lot of time to meet everyone.”

“I grew up pretty far out on the outskirts south of town, and... I didn’t do a lot of social stuff where people might meet me.”

“Well, I’m glad Lyla could introduce us. I understand you work at the factory?”

“Uhh... yeah. I work in quality control and packaging.”

“Oh. Do you like it?”

“Working in the factory? I mean, I guess. It’s not exactly my dream job, but... it pays the bills.”

“What was your dream job?” Chef asked.

“I... it’s stupid,” she said, grabbing a forkful of mashed potatoes and shoving them in her mouth, I guess to stop herself from talking.

“No, it’s not stupid at all,” Mrs. Phillips said, reaching out and putting a hand on her arm. “What was it?”

Tabitha kind of pushed food around on her plate while she was chewing, looking vulnerable for the first time, at least that I’d ever seen. It was interesting, seeing past the gruff exterior she showed all the time. Given how much she acted like she didn’t care what everyone thought of her, it seemed like there was a good chance the exact opposite was true. She cared very much how people thought about her, and the act was a show to try to protect herself.

“I kind of wanted to be a veterinarian. Didn’t go to college though, so...”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful dream,” Mrs. Phillips said. “Do you have any animals?”

“So many,” Lyla said. “Two dogs, two cats, some fish, these adorable white mice, and a big honking bird. It’s like living in a zoo.”

Tabitha shrugged and said, “I like them.”

Lyla reached over and rubbed her back with one hand. It was actually adorable how hard Lyla had fallen for Tabitha, and how different she was than just a year ago.

“So if you’re from here, why aren’t you at your parents’ for Thanksgiving?” I asked, and realized it was a mistake the moment the words came out of my mouth.

Tabitha froze and Lyla’s eyes shot to me and then back to her, looking very worried.

I winced as I saw their reaction. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“It’s okay. No, I don’t really see my family. They don’t approve of my ‘lifestyle choices’ as they call them,” she said, making air quotes with her fingers.

“Oh geez, Tabitha, I had no idea. I’m really sorry, both for asking and... for what happened with them.”

She waved a hand, trying to brush it off. “It’s fine. I’ve gone no contact with them all. Don’t need that kind of toxicity in my life anyway.”

The giant gulp of wine she took after saying that suggested maybe she wasn’t as fine as she pretended to be.

Mrs. Phillips reached over and grasped Tabitha’s other hand. “Well, you listen to me, young lady. You will always have a place here with us, understand? Always. No one deserves to not have a home they can go back to.”

It wondered if either felt weird with Mrs. Phillips calling her ‘young lady’ when she was only like ten or fifteen years younger than Mrs. Phillips. It would be like Vinny at the Blue Ridge calling me ‘young man,’ which would have definitely been weird. Maybe because Mrs. Phillips had big mom energy.

“Oh, I uh...” Tabitha’s gruff facade cracked. “I mean, thank you, but you don’t have to...”

“No, no, I insist. You’re important to Lyla, which makes you important to all of us. And any friend of Lyla’s is a friend of ours. No one should have to spend the holidays alone. Consider this a forever open invite.”

I saw tears glistening in Tabitha’s eyes before she managed to rein her emotions back under control. It was wild to see her emotional, and it really spoke to how deep the pain was with her parents. Coming from a difficult family myself, I could definitely relate.

Chef let out a chuckle. “You’re really collecting quite a brood here, Jennifer. First Kat, then Charlie, now Tabitha...”

Mrs. Phillips smiled brightly. “The more the merrier! A big family is a blessing in my book. Besides, I like strays.”

“Speaking as one of the strays, I’m glad of that,” I said, smiling at her and lifting my glass of tea.

That seemed to break the sudden serious moment, letting everyone lighten up a bit. Tabitha untensed a little, especially after Lily reached over and grabbed her hand, but she looked... I don’t know, more relaxed maybe. A little more happy.

Seeing the mood ease up, I decided it was time to share the announcement I’d been considering.

“Actually, I have some news I want to share with everyone. Kat and Lyla already know this, but since everyone here is family, I thought I should tell you too,” I said, pausing for dramatic effect. “I made it through the preliminaries. I’ll be heading back in December to compete in the live shows.”

“Charlie, that’s wonderful!” Mrs. Phillips exclaimed.

“What’s that mean for the band though?” Tabitha asked.

For maybe the first time ever, her question seemed honestly more curious than accusatory.

“It means we’ll be able to start booking bigger shows in the spring. Warren’s already working on plans. Just getting into the semi-finals means MAC won’t be able to block us anymore, at least not while I’ve still got the name recognition from the show. After that, who knows, although I think the longer we go, the harder it is for them, unless we drop the ball completely. We’re not talking about our biggest shows, the one in New York or when we opened for House of Grace, but I think the Charlotte show will be our new baseline.”

“So no more tiny clubs and basement bars?” Lyla asked.

“According to Warren, no. Not unless we want to do a secret underground show or something to build excitement.”

“Man,” Lyla said, kind of staring off, probably imagining what that would be like.

“What about if you win the whole thing?” Hanna asked.

It had been the first real thing she’d said since we’d sat down to eat.

“Warren said it would ‘change everything.’ I don’t know what that means, but I’m guessing it means we’ve made it. Maybe not huge A-lister, but selling out shows and traveling overseas made it.”

The table erupted into excited chatter, except Lyla, who looked a little shell-shocked.

“Hot damn,” Tabitha said.

“Do you think you can win, Charlie?” Chef asked, his voice cutting through the noise.

The room went from excited to dead silent in a heartbeat. It was quiet enough I could hear the neighbors loading up in their car next door as everyone turned to look at me.

“Yes. I’m going to win,” I said, meeting his eyes steadily.

That sent everyone into another spiraling frenzy of enthusiasm. I had to raise my hands to quiet them down again.

“This doesn’t mean we’re booking Madison Square Garden January first. There’s a tour next summer for the finalists and a lot of details to get worked out. Not sure how that’ll work with the band’s schedule, but we’ve got time to figure it out. Everything might change, but it’s not going to change overnight, I don’t think. It also might mean you all traveling to meet me wherever I’m booked.”

Lyla waved a hand. “We’ll make it work, Charlie. Don’t worry about us.”

As we finished up dinner and the night wound down, I looked around the table at all of my found family, laughing and eating pie. If there was ever something to be thankful for, this was it. But it also made me think about the things I lost along the way.

Once everyone had headed home, I found myself driving out toward the cemetery. While Thanksgiving might be a day when people came out to visit their lost loved ones, it seemed like most had gone home already, leaving me the only one in sight as I pulled up.

I wound my way along the paths until I reached a newer-looking headstone near the back left-hand corner of the site. I paused and stared down at the engraving. Rebecca Lynn Nelson.

I lowered myself to the grass beside the grave and reached out, letting my fingers brush over the letters of her name, reading the inscription below. Beloved Mother. That’s all that we’d had engraved, aside from her name and the dates of her birth and death.

At the time, it felt like enough. Now, it felt inadequate, and yet, how do you sum up a person’s life in a couple of words?

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mom,” I said softly, my voice nearly a whisper in the quiet space. “I’m sorry I haven’t come by to see you more. I’ve just been... busy, I guess.”

It was a lame excuse. The truth was that coming here was hard. It made me think of that horrible day. It was easier to just push it out of my mind, not think about it.

“We just got done with Thanksgiving dinner at Mrs. Phillips’ house,” I continued. “Chef made this amazing spread with turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes - the works. It was like last year. You would have liked it. It was really nice.”

I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat and went quiet, just thinking. It was a strange feeling, going from the fun of Thanksgiving with everyone to here, by myself, but I’d felt a need to come out. It was my first Thanksgiving without her, and the happier I was with my newfound family, the more I felt the absence of my actual one.

“Willie passed away. I was there... when he went. Sometimes it feels like everyone I love leaves. Like, they’re not gone, but Kat and Hanna are off at college, so I don’t see them regularly. I still talk to Kat every night, but it’s not the same. I know not everyone is gone. I mean, I’ve got Chef and Mrs. Phillips, I’ve got my bandmates. But... I don’t know. I just miss you, I guess.”

I wasn’t sure what was upsetting me, really. I wasn’t unhappy, exactly, I just felt... something.

“Maybe sometimes I feel a little lonely,” I said out loud to her headstone. “I told you about what MAC was doing. I’ve had to be away from home to try and fix that, which hasn’t helped.”

Mrs. Phillips still had to work, and with Hanna and Kat gone, I’d been spending a lot of time in the house alone. Mostly catching up on homework or when I was making lists of places Warren and I could call for gigs before he convinced me to go on The Stage.

“Anyway... I, uh, I have some news. Kat and I, we’re kind of dating now,” I said. It was just me and a headstone, but for some reason, my cheeks still got a little flushed at the admission. “I think you’d be happy about that. I know you liked her. It happened kind of suddenly. She’s done so well, recovering from her condition. She’s really put in the work. You’d be amazed. Sometimes she’s like a whole different girl.”

I fell silent again. Part of me felt silly, just telling a headstone all of this. It wasn’t like she could hear me. On the other hand, the last time I’d been here, I’d been so angry at her. It felt good to have let a lot of that anger go and be able to appreciate the woman she was more objectively, with some distance from everything that happened.

“I, uh... I actually joined one of those singing competition shows, The Stage,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “I wasn’t really sure about it at first, but Warren said it would help get the band’s name out there again after everything MAC did to sabotage us over the summer. Anyway, I auditioned last month, made it on and then through all of the prelims. I’ll be headed to the finals in a few weeks. Warren says... well, winning would be good. I told everyone at dinner and they were all so excited. What I didn’t tell them was... I’m kind of scared. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life. Winning the whole thing, it’s such a big deal that I feel like I have to win. I’ve told everyone I can, and I think I was telling the truth. But what if I screw it up? I’m going to let all the people counting on me down. I know they’ll be supportive and if I tell them I feel like this, they’ll try and reassure me that it isn’t true. But I know they want it as bad as I do, except for them, it’s completely out of their hands. They just have to trust me not to screw this up. There’s just so much riding on it, so many people counting on me. I don’t know...”

I let out a long, slow breath. It felt good to say it out loud, even if only to her headstone, or myself. I wasn’t going to tell anyone how I felt, not even Kat. I didn’t want them to think they had to hide their enthusiasm because of me. I wanted the enthusiasm. It was a jumble, all the stuff floating around inside of my head.

“Anyway,” I said. “I just wanted to come and tell you all that. I’m sorry for yelling at you last time. I promise I don’t hate you. I know you did the best you could, and you had your own stuff to deal with. I don’t blame you for what happened.”

I reached out and traced my fingers over her name one more time before getting to my feet.

“I’ll come back again soon, I promise. Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. I love you.”

With that, I turned and slowly made my way back down the path toward my car. I don’t know if I felt better or worse, but I did feel like a weight had been lifted. Like I’d closed the door on some of the stuff I’d been carrying around since last summer. Who knows if I was better, or if there was a better, but it felt good to move forward from all the anger. I had a lot ahead of me, so it was important to deal with the stuff in my past. Keep it from haunting me.

Or at least I hoped that was what I was doing.