Jessica Sankiewicz - If Only We

And, to be honest, neither am I. I'm not sure what I will do with my free time when he goes back to work. Probably just back to “work” myself.

When I get to his place, I can tell Chevy seems to be getting a little better. I can see it in his face. There is still an overcast of clouds but it is slowly starting to dissipate.

I say to him, “You want to go see a movie? There are a couple good ones that came out today.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t you have better things to do?”

“No,” I say with a smile.

“Really? You have to. You have your sewing business to deal with.”

“It can wait. Besides, I need a break from it.”

“As much as I enjoy having you around, I don’t want your future to go up in flames because you spent all your time here.”

I shake my head at his worry over the little things going on in my life. He is right though. Not only that but he probably needs a little time to himself.

“Okay, fine,” I concede with a sigh. “How about this? I'll spend the weekend working on my future. But…on Monday, we need to do something special since it’s your last day off.”

He nods in agreement. “Okay, deal.” He shuffles back and forth on his feet. “Adrienne, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” I sit down on his bed and he sits next to me.

He takes a deep breath. “Do you think I’m destined to become an alcoholic too?”

His question takes me by surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“Because that’s what they say about alcoholics—their children have a higher risk of becoming the same. I know it’s not entirely genetic because there are plenty of people with parents who are alcoholics and addicts but they still manage to avoid it.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Look,” I tell him, “you’re strong, just like your father was. He fought the battle like a warrior.”

“But I don’t know if he would have beaten it entirely.”

“Does any alcoholic beat it entirely? They fight it every day. A lot of them can go years without alcohol but any one of them could cave at any time. The reason why they don’t is that they are determined not to. They have reasons why they stop. That’s what keeps them from ever starting again.”

“Why did my dad stop?”

“For his family.”

“How about me?”

“Like I said, you’re strong. If you ever feel that pull of addiction, I know you would fight it. You would find a reason and you would fight it.”

A smile begins to form on the corner of his lips. “Thanks,” he says. “I needed to hear that.”

“You’re welcome.”

He peeks over at me. “We’re still going to see a movie tonight, right?”

I chuckle and put my arm around his shoulder. “For you, anything.”

The nervous anticipation is palpable as I walk into Hidden Treasures to see how my month went. I have been both dreading and longing for this day. Now that it is here, I'm attempting to be confident while sweating bullets.

I drive over there late in the morning so I don’t seem overly anxious about being paid. I am sure there are plenty of other people who get there right at nine when the place opens up. I don’t want to be like that. This is why the anxiety has built to higher than normal levels. That and I have a couple dozen headbands in a tote to share with her today. She told me to bring new stuff in anytime but I decided to wait until September when I had enough stuff built up.

When I walk in, Mary Ann looks up from the paper and smiles. “Hi, doll! How have you been?”

“Doing all right. How about you?”

“Can’t complain.” She reaches under the counter and pulls out a binder. “Let me see here,” she says with her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she flips through it. “Adrienne, right?”

“Yes.” Here we go.

“Okay.” Her finger scrolls down and she stops at my name. “Hmm…”

“What?”

“Well, it looks like you didn’t have any sales this month.”

My heart sinks. “Oh,” is all I can say.

She can see the disappointment in my face. “Don’t worry though, dear. Sometimes the first month you sell nothing. You never know what to expect. One month you sell nothing, the next you sell ten things, and the next you sell one.”

“That makes sense,” I say, nodding even though I don't believe it. The tote of headbands starts to weigh my arm down. I try to get the words out to tell her about my new venture, but I can’t. I just say, “Well, I guess I’ll wait and see how this month goes then.” I flash a big smile.

“That’s the spirit!” she says enthusiastically as she puts the binder away.

I say goodbye to her and walk out to my car slowly. I sold nothing. Nobody wanted to buy my creations. All that effort over the summer. Every second I spent working my butt off trying to do something I loved. And for what? For nothing.

Maybe she is right about the selling. Who am I kidding? If anyone should know, it is her. She has seen the market, seen the sales firsthand.

Yet, why can’t I believe it?

I shake my head and drive home. After setting the tote on the dresser, I sit on my bed and stare at it. Should I have shared them with her? I probably should have. What would it have hurt? Nothing. Except for the fact that nobody would have bought those just like nobody bought my purses. I jump up, grab the tote, and put it under my bed. Out of sight, out of mind. Now to distract myself with something. Maybe a movie.

I go across the hall to Kaitlin’s room and find her sitting at her desk writing in a notebook. “Hey, you interested in watching a movie?”

She says, “I have a lot of homework I need to do.” She doesn’t look up at me.

“Oh, okay, no problem. Maybe tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Something isn’t right and I know it isn't too much homework. She is not going to talk though. “All right,” I say, quietly stepping back into my room and closing the door behind me. I wonder what is on her mind. Should I have asked? I have not been around most of the week. Maybe I should have made the effort to spend at least one night at home with her.

As I look for a romantic comedy, I see Coventry sitting on the shelf next to the DVDs. I stand there a moment and debate on what to do. Who am I kidding though? I know exactly what I need to do.

I pick out a movie and pick him up.

I burst into Chevy’s room. He is lying face-up on his bed, staring at the ceiling. “Okay, up and at ’em,” I tell him as I smack his arm.

He pretends to look annoyed but I can tell he is amused. “Why?”

“We need to do something fun.”

“Like what?”

“I have no idea.”

He laughs. “You had all weekend to come up with something. What were you doing?”

Drowning in my sorrows about my failing plans. Upset at the possibility of my mom being right about my poor choices. “Nothing much,” I say finally. I look around his room. “You moved stuff around.”

“Yeah,” he says, sitting up. “I was looking for something in my closet and started to go through everything in there. Then I did the rest of my room.”

I walk over to the rollerblades sitting in front of the closet. I pick one up. “You like to rollerblade?”

“Yeah. I used to blade a lot.”

A grin spreads across my face. “I know what we should do today.”

After a quick drive home to pick up my pair, we're both sitting in his driveway putting on our rollerblades. He suddenly laughs. I turn to him, smiling. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s been, like, a year since I’ve done this.”

“Probably about the same for me too. This ought to be amusing for both of us then.”

“It’s like riding a bike.” He stands up. “Ah. This brings back memories.”

I pick myself up. “Oh yeah.” I push forward and go to the end of his driveway.

He follows me. “Where to?”

“Up the street and back?”

“Sounds good.” We go to the end of the block and turn around. Since the sidewalk isn't too wide, we can’t blade side by side. I suggest going to the park but he says he would rather stay close to home. So we head back to his house.

I go into his garage and look around. “There’s got to be something we can do while blading.” I pick up a basketball. “Now this would be fun,” I say, spinning around to face him. I toss the ball to him.

He smirks. “First one to five wins?”

“You’re on.” He races out to the driveway ahead of me and throws one in. “Hey! That wasn't fair! I wasn’t even out here yet to block you!”

“You didn’t set any rules,” he says, passing the ball to me.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you have that one.” I roll closer and toss the ball over his head. He reaches up to block but misses and it goes in. “One to one. This is going to be a close game.”

He picks up the ball and makes another shot. “Ah, two to one.”

“That’s it!” I yell as he passes the ball to me again.

This goes on for the next five minutes until it's tied four to four. When he goes to make his last shot, I come up behind him and try to grab for the ball. He lets go right before and it goes in for a clean swoop. He raises his arms and says, “I win!”

“Yes, you do,” I say reluctantly.

He spins around and, wrapping his arms around me, we fall into the grass together. I start laughing and so does he. Still holding on to me, he whispers, “Thank you for this.”