Page 20 of The Breaking Pointe

maybe you’re right

COLTON

I dust my leg off with one hand as my knee keeps a steady, rhythmic bounce. After all these years of therapy in this office with Dr. Lydia, I’m still uncomfortable, I still hate the silence, and I still pray for it to end.

“Do you think you’re rejecting your feelings because you’re afraid of vulnerability with another woman?”

“What do you mean? I’m not rejecting, I’m making sure I protect myself. I still think she’s a sweet girl. I wanna be around her, obviously.”

I use a few fingers to scratch my beard”

That’s why I can’t stop seeing her, you know…the other day, for example?”

I continue”

We went antiquing.”

I huff out a brief chuckle”

I can’t believe I allowed Hannah to convince me that it was a bad thing…”

I shrug, confused with the thought of my past words that were used against me.

Everything I loved she used against me, now that I think about it.

“If you like her, then what’s scaring you, Colton?”

she asks, tilting her head a tad.

“Well…everything. It’s all scary. The what ifs—I don’t like those.”

I shake my head, now clasping my hands together, rubbing them”

I can accept defeat when it’s due, Dr. Lydia, but being totally rejected as a person and being used for your abilities is just bewildering to the soul. To my soul. I let another woman catch me slipping and I’m cooked—I’m telling you.”

She softly smiles, then adds a few notes to her small notebook”

I understand your fears. I just think it sounds like this woman has good intentions. I also think you’re doing a fine job at allowing her into your space. Taking her to your mother’s was a great idea.”

“It was an absolute nightmare, though. I shouldn’t have gotten mad like that, but I couldn’t help myself. I bet I looked like my father—no wonder Steven hates me.”

I shake my head, rubbing my face simultaneously.

“Why do you say Steven hates you?”

she asks calmly.

“I can see that look in his eyes—the same one that I had, you know? When I looked at my father. I’m so disgusted with who he had become…I can’t help but wonder if Steve feels the same. About me.”

I gaze at the burgundy carpeting on the floor.

“Talk to him. Ask him questions. That’s how you get answers, Colton. I want you to try to not create narratives before you can investigate the scenario. You make yourself anxious when you jump to conclusions,”

she says, nodding with a motherly warmth in her expression.

“When I talk, I say the wrong things. I get loud,”

I respond”

So, take a few deep breaths and move at your own pace when

you do. It’s okay to take the time. The right people will respond accordingly,” she says”

You are taking your medicine, right?”

I chuckle softly, raising my head to look at her”

I take it every day, Dr. Lydia, c’mon.”

“I just have to ask, you know that.”

She smiles, raising her hands in surrender, then looking at her watch”

It’s five o’clock.”

She looks at me”

Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

I nod, looking at her as I stand up”

I appreciate you taking this last-minute appointment. I’m sorry it’s so random.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

She stands up as well, walking with me to the door”

You can always make last-minute appointments.”

She squeezes my arm in a friendly gesture as she opens the door”

Tell Janice I said hello, will you?”

“Sure,”

I nod, “thank you.”

I half-smile before exiting her office, back into the loud lobby and out to my car.

Dr. Lydia is always right when I don’t want to hear it. It’s like she knows exactly what I need, but I shouldn’t be shocked— she’s worked with my inability to be normal since my dad made his grand exit. She reads me down to the grit, and while it’s great to feel seen, she sees the things that I don’t like to be visible to the candid eye. Like my fear of committing, or my defensive communication skills that stem from always defending myself, or the lack of. I suppose Noelle has seen it, too, now, which makes me feel embarrassed more than anything else. I wouldn’t imagine she’s one to judge, but she seems like she comes from a much more structured home than I do.

That’s the thing about Noelle, though. She oozes a sense of calmness and security that doesn’t feel authoritative. It feels comforting, and supportive.

In the past weeks, I’ve made myself take her into considera- tion more, not just as the woman I’ve hooked up with, but as someone I might want to be with for a long time. That instills

fear within me, but I can’t tell when we’re at hockey games, or when we’re walking in Central Park. She makes it easy to forget when she’s telling me about her life back in Chicago, or what her students are learning. Her parents sound so clean cut and well mannered, it makes me nervous.

Who’s to say I would ever even meet them? What I do know is that they’ve raised her to want more for everyone, not just herself. She’s as selfless as they come, and she wants to give me her time. She doesn’t get bored of my personality, and rather than thinking I’m too witty or soft, she substitutes it as me being kind and detail oriented. She allows me to talk more. She begs me to talk more. I normally find it taxing to hold up conversation with people anymore, but she makes it as though I don’t have to lift a finger.

It’s organic, and real.

Her will to ignore my flawed upbringing and my quirks should be awarded. No matter how many times I apologize for my outburst at dinner, she tells me it’s okay. She said, “Family can be confusing and a lot. I like a lot,”

and moved over the subject as though it doesn’t make a difference to how she sees me as a person. She sees everything, might I add. Like she can feel me being uneasy and wavering. That part, I don’t mind having seen. If it’s her, that is.

Getting in my car, my phone starts belting its loud ringer the moment I get in my driver’s seat. Once I’m situated in place, I finally get it out my pocket and read the ID, seeing it’s Steven.

“Hello?”

“Mom’s not getting out of bed,” he pants”

I thought she was taking a good nap, but now she’s not talking, and she can’t really move—I don’t know what to do!”

he yells into the phone, his voice shaking.

Taking a second to process his words, I take a deep breath”

Alright, don’t panic, Steven. Try not to. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m on the way, right now.”

“Okay—Okay, I’m not panicking. I’m waiting,”

he says, obviously still freaked out.

“It’s okay, buddy. I’ll be there. I’ll let you know when I’m close by. Do me a favor?”

I ask, remaining calm.

“Okay…”

he says, sounding ready to cry at any given moment”

I need you to hang up and to call 911, and tell them what’s

happening, for me,”

I direct him.

“Okay, I can do that. I’m hanging up,” he says.

“Good. I’ll see you in a few,”

I say before hanging up and tossing my phone in the passenger seat, readying myself to drive off.

He has reason to be as upset as he is. When I get to the house, she is nearly incompetent. No response. According to the ambulance, that happens often with cancer patients when things get worse all of a sudden. The body begins to shut down and robs you of basic functions, like mobility and speech. Thankfully, her speech should be back within a few days, but there’s no guarantee of that. Just the budding hope that she’ll somehow find the strength to wake up and tell us that it’s simply a bad day.

I want to treat Steven like a child when the ambulance takes her away, to refrain him from viewing such things. He’s far too old to be withheld from the situation, but he harbors this lost look, deep in his eyes as we watch her being carried out the door. He is quiet like a mouse, and as empty as I’ve ever seen him look. The graveness of his look won’t leave. It’s stuck with him, and I don’t think there’s anything that I can say or do that would be better than what my mother could say herself.

He doesn’t want comfort from me; he wants it from her.

Until recently, I haven’t thought anything about what life would be like without my mom. Without both parents. It’s important to me that my mom meets the person I’m seeing, and that’s the real reason I invited Noelle over for dinner. Maybe it’s short notice, but I needed her to see that I won’t be alone like she fears. Without a thought, I wanted nothing more than for her to meet Noelle, specifically. She’s different from the others. So, when my mother leaves me, which I’m now coming to terms with, I can say one thing: she left only knowing that the last person on this Earth I’m imagining a future with is someone good. Or at least that’s what my conscience tells me.

I tell myself that deep down, my father would’ve loved the moment at dinner with Noelle, and every moment of my career. We would’ve felt like a real family. He would’ve adored her just as much as me. I know that for sure.

I think I just hate that I know how this is going to end. One of the worst things is being unable to recall my dad’s face. I can’t tell you what the man looked like off the top of my head. Not without a picture reference. I have no idea what he sounded like anymore, either. I can tell you some things I do remember, though. I can remember climbing trees in the summer. It was hot. Humid. The kind that made you just wanna sit right in front of a fan. Instead, I was outside, picking berries. Being rewarded with a nice, big iced tea.

My mom would cook with the windows open so you could smell everything. And then, when my dad finally got home, I remember sitting in the living room with him while he watched Wheel of Fortune, yelling out answers over a cold brew. My mom would shake her head and peel me from the television for a bath. It’s funny how your memory only stores the things that hold

little value, that way.

In the grand scheme of it all, that’s how my deluded mind remembers everything, but truthfully, my dad was always mad. The tree was an escape. And the tea was my mom’s way of saying she was sorry for all the bullshit from the previous night. It’s really all about how you allow yourself to perceive things, or just how much you decide you want to remember. I pick and choose what I want to think about. Most of the time, the bad shit is all I can think about. So in a way, Trey was right, too, about it being up to me. But I don’t even know where to begin.

I believe that every parent gives you warning signs before the end approaches. Each one is more painful than the last. Slowly, they prepare you for the unthinkable. Let’s face it—nobody is ever ready for that storm. Even still, the clouds will still keep rolling in. Whether you want them to or not.

I stick around the house after the ambulance left to clean it of the debris left from them. Something I know my mother would’ve appreciated. I also did it to keep an eye on Steven. Though there isn’t much to observe, I think he deserves the option to see her in the hospital, if he wants to. I don’t want to go, but I don’t have a choice in this moment.

“Steve, I’m gonna go see her. You can ride with me, if you want. If not, I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go. The offer is up to stay at my place so you aren’t—uh—alone.”

I say the last words hesitantly.

“I don’t want to see her like that. Just leave me here,”

he says, walking to the bottom of the stairs as I stand by the front door”

Steven, I’m not leaving you here. You don’t have to come with me, but maybe there’s a friend or something around?” I

suggest, holding back a sigh.

“Does it really matter?”

he asks, stuffing his hands in his

pockets with a disinterested expression.

“Uh—yeah, it does, kid. So make a decision for me, please? Mom said something about maybe a girlfriend?”

I nod, shrug- ging.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” he snaps”

Can you just take me to the skate park?”

He sighs, grabbing his board that leans against the wall and his backpack off the floor.

“Fine. I’ll wait in the car,”

I say, a little stunned by his aggression towards the mere suggestion of a girlfriend. I don’t know if I should apologize or ask further questions. I softly chew the insides of my cheeks, watching him get his shoes on before I turn to walk out.