Chapter 38 - A Million Rainbows

“Dover, I’m leaving the house. What kind of bagel do you like?”

“It doesn’t matter, surprise me.” I never ate breakfast, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had a bagel.

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”

It was the first morning Charlie would be going back to school. I was taking the day off, another day off, but I was so tired of worrying about every last little thing, and I had to choose Charlie over school today. Besides, Lyndsay’s and my detention for ditching wasn’t until tomorrow. If they wanted to add more to my sentence, they could do it then.

I was going to walk Charlie to school myself, then I would be staying by my phone for the rest of the day.

Charlie’s epilepsy diagnosis was scary as hell. She was on daily doses of oxcarbazepine given twice a day. The medication had to be administered at precisely the same time each and every day, without fail. I had five alarms set on my phone, all so I wouldn’t forget. She was also put on a low-carb diet. That made finding food for her a little more challenging, but thanks to Kyle and his thirty-five-dollar grocery budget we were managing.

But besides diet and medication, there wasn’t much more to do, and we were playing the waiting game to see how she responded to the new regimen.

She was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. I was a nervous wreck as I packed her bag, not wanting to let her go.

“Brianna.”

Mom’s presence so early in the morning startled me. She was standing in the doorway, dressed, her hair combed and pulled back.

“What’s up, Mom?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

I followed her to her room, and we sat silently on the bed.

Mom’s shoulders were low, her head bowed as she stared at her hands. She took a moment before she spoke, letting the quiet air around us grow thick and solemn.

“Brianna,” she said, her voice small and frail, nearly dying out before it even reached me. “I want to make promises to you and to Charlie. I don’t know if I can. But I’m going to try like you asked.” She swallowed and licked her lips nervously. “I’ll be attending my first AA meeting today, and I wanted to help get Charlie to school.”

Mom was fiddling with her hands, looking so unsure. She had no faith in the words she was saying. I didn’t either, but just hearing them coming from Mom was huge, and it was a step in the right direction, at least.

“Hey,” I said, “you don’t have to make any promises. Trying is a great start.”

Mom smiled weakly, her gaze falling to her lap.

I twisted to face her, taking her shaky hands and giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, Mom.” I waited for her to look at me. “Do you remember that time … I think I was about four years old. I’m not sure exactly, but it might have been at Nanna’s old house. It had that kitchen with the old green and white patterned linoleum?”

“That was the house over on Juniper Street,” said Mom.

“Yeah, I barely remember it. But there was this one time … Well, you remember Nanna, she could be kind of a stickler when it came to keeping her house clean …”

“Yeah,” said Mom, laughing, because she probably remembered that better than I did.

“Anyway, I was playing on the floor in the kitchen. I had taken her flour from the pantry and was pretending it was snow for my Barbies. I dumped the entire bag right on the floor … made a huge mess. And Nanna, God, she got so mad at me. I had never heard her yell like that.”

I smiled, remembering my late nanna fondly. But her and her temper, still to this day, weren’t something I would ever cross on purpose.

“She must’ve been babysitting,” I said, “because you weren’t there. And when you came back, you found me crying on the couch. You felt terrible about it, and you and Nanna got into a big fight over it.”

“I do remember that,” said Mom quietly. “She left the flour on the floor for me to clean up.”

“She did?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t even that bad. Just a small pile and some footprints.”

“Ha. Well, she certainly made me think it was bad. Anyway, you always let me play with flour anytime I wanted after that. You even made my Barbie’s snow pants and skis out of popsicle sticks.” I chuckled to myself, remembering how happy I had been with those skis.

I took a quiet moment to reflect on a time when I adored my mom. “That’s the mom you were for me,” I said, wiping away my tears. “And that’s the mom Charlie sees in you.”

Mom nodded, then she instantly crumbled, breaking into a tremble of sobs. “Brianna, I’m sorry … for everything,” she said. “For not protecting you when you were a girl. For not being here. For putting so much on you all these years. I don’t know … I don’t know how to make it up to you.”

I shook my head, a cascade of tears falling down my face. “Hey, no, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize to me. I just want Charlie to have the mom I used to have. That’s all I care about.”

Mom brought a hand to her mouth, covering the sad quiver of her chin. “Yes, I do, Brianna. I have to apologize to you. You are my baby girl. I love you.” She put her arms around me and pressed me into a tight hug, holding me and rocking me like I was a child.

And I wept like a child.

We cried together in her quiet room. Both, afraid to let go of the moment. Because every moment that followed would be filled with uncertainty, and we were both past believing in fairy-tale endings. A happily ever after, if it was even possible, would take a lot of work.

There was a knock at the door, then a second later, Kyle was talking with Charlie.

“I’m going to have to warn her about answering the door herself,” I said, pushing out of Mom’s arms and wiping my eyes.

Mom put a hand on my shoulder. “Kyle is great, Brianna. I’m happy for you.”

I smiled. “Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?”

Mom nodded and touched one of my diamond earrings. “You deserve great. Don’t let me or anyone else ever tell you differently.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I gave her another hug, then got up, trying to compose myself. “We need to go soon.”

I came into the kitchen and immediately went over to Kyle, gave him a hug, and put a hand over his eyes. “Try not to look at this house right now, please.”

For the past few days, I had been a disaster, and the state of the house usually reflected the state of my mind. I had tried to pick up a little before he came over, but I was realizing now, with Kyle standing beside everything—being so perfect and beautiful like always—just how horrible a cleaning job I had done.

He brought bagels, and, though it must have been his, since he wouldn’t have known Mom was awake, he handed the coffee he was holding to Mom. “Good morning, Maggie.”

“Oh wow, thank you,” she said, sipping it eagerly.

“Are you ready, Charlie?” I asked. “The whole gang is going to take you to school today.”

Charlie nodded—her smile, like sunshine, beamed around the room.

At first, Mom was just “practicing” with Charlie. Practicing getting up in the morning. Practicing getting her ready and out to school on time.

But after she made it an entire week, I stopped calling it that.

I changed it to “trying”. Because she was trying.

When she made it four weeks, successfully helping Charlie every day, and when she also received the one-month chip from AA, I decided she was “succeeding”. One month dry was a long time for Mom, and I was proud of her.

I was still feeling leery and hesitant to trust her, but I figured these baby steps were a good place to start. Because, hey, you had to start somewhere. And I’d never seen Charlie happier than she had been this past month.

Since Mom was in charge of Charlie, I had more time in the morning, and Kyle decided we should fill that time eating breakfast together before school.

We were currently sitting in his car. It was a cold, rainy day, and I was worried about Mom and Charlie walking to school. I was worried about any and every little thing that made it harder. But Mom had been out of bed when I left, and I knew getting up was the hardest part. A walk in the rain would be a walk in the park compared to getting out of bed.

Kyle handed me my egg sandwich and coffee. “So have you made any decisions about school?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah, I’ve decided.” My nod was steady as I focused my gaze on the drizzle of rain on the windshield.

He raised an eyebrow because I hadn’t yet told him anything about this decision.

“Um … yeah, so BU has a pretty good online program. I’ve been looking into it. I should still be able to go full time.” I lifted my shoulders. “It’s not ideal. You know? I always dreamed of actually getting out, doing the whole college scene … But I’ll be able to hang onto most of my scholarships, at least.” I tilted my head, a little disheartened because it felt so much like failing. “I can always attend in-person next year if things are still going well with Mom.”

“Yeah, you can,” said Kyle, reaching and rubbing my knee. “This is just a speed bump, Bree. It won’t derail you.”

My smile was small, but I was thankful to have him backing me up. “What about you?” I asked, the question breaking me apart because I already knew the answer. But Kyle hadn’t mentioned anything since New Year’s, and I hated the topic more than anything, so I hadn’t asked.

He placed his sandwich in the paper wrapper on the center console and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m going to go to Stanford and do the whole pre-med thing to make my dad happy. I’m still tossing the idea of medical school around, though. I don’t know. I just can’t see going through ten-plus years of schooling for something I’m lukewarm about. I also can’t see ten plus years of being away from you.”

I lowered my coffee, an ocean of weight dropping on my shoulders. “Kyle, you can’t make these decisions because of me.”

“Why not?” He narrowed his gaze like he really wanted me to answer that.

“Because it’s your whole life. I may not be worth all of that, you know?”

Kyle inhaled through his nose, then released the breath with a sigh, his eyes pained. “My life is right now, Bree. My life is not tomorrow or in four years when we’re out of college. I think making decisions because of you is exactly what I should be doing. I mean, how do you feel?”

“How do I feel about what? Making decisions because of you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think we can handle four years. It’ll be hard, but I think we’ve got it. Anything more than that, though … Well, it’s a ridiculous amount of time. So, I do. I want to alter my plans because of you. But you can tell me if we aren’t on the same page here.”

“What about your dad?”

“It’s not my dad’s life. It’s my life.” Kyle lifted his shoulders and waited for me to say something. “Never mind,” he said. He turned away, facing forward in his seat.

My heart sank, pulsing painfully, desperately pleading with me to correct this anxiety-induced blunder of mine. “Kyle, look at me, please.”

He turned back to me. “Look, Bree, you can just tell me if it’s too much. Like I said before, you don’t have to make any promises or anything. I—”

“No, no, no.” I stretched my hand out and covered his mouth. “Just hold on, I need a second to think.” I took a breath to steady myself, knowing I needed to say this right.

I lowered my hand. “Kyle, um … I have no doubts about how I feel about you. I overthink everything, and I worry I’m not good enough for you …”—Kyle’s brow got all frumpy when I said that, making me adore him that much more—“but I have fallen completely and madly in love with you. I don’t know how I’m possibly going to let you go and move across the country. I want to keep you forever. And I want to make plans with you. God, I want to marry you, I love you so much.”

Kyle laughed. “You say marriage like it’s a bad thing?”

“Doesn’t it seem like a bad thing?”

He looked up, thinking, his face scrunchy like he didn’t agree. With a small shake of his head, he leaned into me, holding a kiss an inch from my lips. “So you’re madly in love with me?” A playful glint sparkled in his eyes.

I nodded, my heart, full with happiness. “Yes, I’m madly, crazy, completely in love with you.”

Kyle moved in with the kiss.

“So we’ll plan for each other,” he said. “I want to. You want to. Why not?”

“Yeah, because why wait to be happy, right?”

He smiled. “You’re getting it, Dover.”