Page 34 of A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

Until the Store Closes

Christina

When Ashley called me two hours ago and left a message saying there was a family emergency, and that I needed to get to my parents’ house ASAP, I didn’t have time to think.

I ran into Principal Wilkson’s office—luckily he said he’d cover my last class of the day—canceled everything for after school, and jumped in my car to race down there as fast as I could.

A million thoughts blur together like the scenery whizzing by my car.

Fortunately, I’ve done this drive so many times, I could practically do it with my eyes closed, because my mind isn’t on the road.

I had just seen them all at Emily’s engagement party, and everyone was fine.

What could’ve happened that they couldn’t just tell me over the phone?

Someone is dead. That’s the worst case that my mind can conjure, and it makes sense why they wouldn’t tell me until I get there.

But who could it be?

The leg I’m not using for the gas pedal bounces ferociously, shaking the entire car, and the hand not holding the wheel worries at the scar on my arm as I turn onto my childhood street.

I throw my car into park and run up the driveway past Emily’s new Beamer and Ashley’s Range Rover and push through the front door without knocking, with a little more force than usual. “I’m here. Now, what’s wrong?”

My entire family sits in the living room mid-conversation.

The scene is so similar to what it was like back in high school coming home to find them all after getting off my shift at the local pool as a lifeguard.

Dad in his recliner. Emily on the floor messing with the cat.

Ashley on one side of the couch, and Mom on the other.

The only difference this time is that Mom’s foot is in a rather large plastic boot that’s propped on a pillow on the coffee table.

“Oh, honey, you didn’t need to race all the way down here,” Mom says. Her words are a little slurred like she’s had a few drinks—or, considering the circumstances, likely some very strong painkillers.

My ears burn. No one is dead. I should be happy that no one is dead.

Although I’m about to kill someone right now.

“Ashley said it was an emergency. No one was picking up their phones.” Why, for the love of all in the universe, did no one pick up their phone?

I’m ready to scream, but instead I press my fingernails deeper into the palms of my hands.

At that, everyone but Mom scrambles for their cells.

“It was on silent.” Ashley flips her phone in her hand like it’s not a big deal.

“Left it upstairs.” Dad chuckles.

“Battery died,” Emily says—her teeth clench in that embarrassed emoji kind of way.

“You are a tech genius, and you didn’t charge your phone?” My voice is shriller than I mean it, and I shouldn’t take it out on Em, because she’s always been the one I can count on, but today I really needed her.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” she says, and she does sound sorry, which is more than anyone else.

I let out a long breath—both relieved and angry that I’m standing here right now.

“I canceled my entire day because I thought someone was dying.” I give Ashley a death stare.

She could’ve made it clear in her message.

She could’ve told me everything was okay and not to worry.

Why does she have to be so terrible to me all the time?

“Mom needs surgery,” she blurts out like this somehow makes up for her complete disregard for me and my feelings.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s a funny story really,” Mom says. “I was carrying the laundry down the stairs, and Baxter, that mischievous little feline, was trying to help, and I fell.” She giggles, actually giggles, at this.

“You fell down the stairs?” I must’ve misheard because there isn’t a single thing funny about that story. Those are some strong painkillers for sure.

Dad shakes his head. “Your mother shattered some bones in her ankle, and she’s going to need surgery to repair it, but they want to wait for the swelling to go down—”

“And make sure the insurance will pay for it.” Emily rolls her eyes. Her disdain for the sick care system, as she calls it, is palpable.

“Yes, I’m sure they also want to make sure all the paperwork is in order,” Dad says.

I flop down in one of the chairs. “Okay, no one is dying, and Mom is having a surgery some other day that isn’t today, so why was it that I needed to rush down here?”

“Mom’s going to be out of commission,” Ashley jumps in. “And Dad has a business trip coming up next week.” She cannot possibly be suggesting…“So someone needs to be here to help her out.”

Of course she is. Because this is who Ashley is—this is what she does.

Or what she doesn’t do. She never thinks about me.

But getting loud has never been effective, so I take a calming breath and keep my tone level.

“I have a job. In Clover Creek. And a huge event I’m planning.

” And once again this all could’ve been communicated with me over the phone.

It didn’t require a panicked call for me to race all the way down here; not that I add that, even though I really want to.

I’m already feeling completely ganged up on.

Ashley humphs. “Yes, and Emily is getting ready to launch, and I have kids—”

“That go to school during the day. Which is where I have to be. And Emily works from home.” I pull in another deep breath, this time counting to ten.

“I have a lot of meetings,” Emily says, and to her credit, she does look like none of this was her idea.

It’s not as though she planned her very important launch event at the same time Mom fell down the stairs—but also it isn’t like I planned mine at this same time either.

I don’t want to take this out on Em, and it totally isn’t her fault, but why does my whole family not see the value in what I do?

Ashley tips her head to the side. “We thought—”

“I can’t believe you,” I snap; my voice is louder than I intend, but I don’t care anymore.

“I get that you all don’t think my job is important, but it is.

And I’m sorry, but I don’t have the flexibility to work from home.

And I may not have kids, but for fuck’s sake, Ashley, can’t you be here during the day when Luke’s at work and the kids are at school—”

“Just because I don’t have a job doesn’t mean I don’t work,” Ashley says.

“I never said you didn’t. But god forbid the laundry doesn’t get done for a couple days, or gasp, Luke does some.”

“We know your job is important,” Emily says.

“Maybe you do, but they don’t.” I point to the rest of my family.

“No, I’m not some big-time architect, but I’m pretty good at my job, and it doesn’t make me miserable, and shouldn’t my happiness mean something?

” I stand. “You know what? I’m done trying to convince you.

Because it doesn’t matter. I’m happy. And, Mom, I’m sorry you’re hurt, and I will do what I can, but I won’t be shirking my responsibilities to my kids and my community. ”

Dad clears his throat. “You’re right, honey, and even before all of this, your mom and I had been talking and we’ve been meaning to chat with you, but it’s never felt like the right time, and now, well…

It probably isn’t the right time either, but the Fishers are willing to rent out their barn, and Mom and I thought it could be a good place for you to do your woodworking and maybe sell some of your creations to local folks or whatever you want. ”

A moment ago, I was ready to storm out the door, and now I’m frozen in place. “You want to support my art?”

“We’ve realized we haven’t been as supportive of your passions as we should’ve been. And we didn’t really understand when you took this teaching job, but we saw that chair you made for Mrs.Vasquez. You’re very talented.”

I made that chair three years ago when my depression hit right after Halloween.

I needed something to focus on and Mrs.Vasquez’s daughter-in-law was having a baby, so I offered to make the rocker.

I didn’t even know my parents knew about it.

“What’s the catch?” Maybe it’s wrong to be so judgmental, but this feels too easy.

Dad fiddles with his wedding ring—his nervous tell. “No catch. But if you could help out a little just until your mom is back up and going, that would be really appreciated.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ashley pipes in.

“Why do you care?” Emily says. “You don’t want to take care of Mom.”

“You want me to quit my job to live at home and take care of Mom and you will pay for me to have a space to work on my projects just like that. No other strings attached?”

Dad looks at Mom, whose head has fallen back on the couch cushions and she’s fast asleep. “You’d really be helping us out. And we really think you could do something with your skills.”

I can’t say I’m not tempted. No more early mornings or grading papers or parent-teacher meetings, and I’d finally have the time to do the thing that I love. “I’m going to need to think about it.”

“Of course,” Dad says.

Before anyone else can say anything, I walk back outside, down the driveway, and get into my car.

As I head onto the freeway, back toward Clover Creek, the conversation with Dad plays over and over in my mind.

If I did it, I’d be giving them what they want, but I’d also be getting what I want.

Deciding to teach was a way for me to “take a break” and rethink my life, but I’ve been so busy, there hasn’t really been time.

Yes, I’d be moving back home, which isn’t ideal, but would it really be so bad?

Mom won’t be hurt forever, and I’ve got a little money saved up, so who knows, maybe I could open a shop in town.

I’d save money on rent and covering the cost of prosthetic scars and warts for the haunted house until my reimbursement comes in— if it comes in.

Maybe once Halloween ends, I won’t feel as bad as I have the last three years if I have a plan in place.

The tires thrum against the concrete, drowning out the low volume on my stereo, and I think about what my life could be if I took a leap. This one can’t be as impulsive as the last. This time I need to consider all the pros and cons and really consider the worst-case scenario.

A light on the dash comes on, and even with my foot on the gas, the car starts to jerk forward.

No. Not now. I release the pedal and throw my blinker on.

I’m still at least an hour outside of Clover Creek, and there’s nothing around here for miles.

When I try to press the accelerator, nothing happens, so I move to the side of the road and park the car.

The temperature gauge isn’t that high, and while the gas tank isn’t the fullest, the light isn’t on. I’ve never made that trip home and back so quickly before, so maybe she needs a little break.

My head falls back against the headrest. What is this supposed to mean?

I feel like the universe is trying to tell me something.

Is it saying don’t go back to Clover Creek?

Or maybe it’s trying to tell me to stop and really think about what I want and if this would be the best way to get it?

Quitting my last job had been the easy way out.

I could’ve stayed and fought for what I wanted, but I didn’t.

I cut and ran. What else could I lose if I give up on everything now and take the easy road again?

Lightning flashes in the darkening sky above. I turn the ignition. Nothing. It’ll be dark soon, and I’m stuck.

Shit.

Okay, universe. What am I supposed to do now?

I reach for my purse to get my cell, and my take-out bag from earlier falls on the floor, spilling a couple packets of ketchup and a few of those salt-and-pepper packets.

This hint from the universe I understand.