Jessica Sankiewicz - If Only We

I nod with my eyes closed. “I wasn’t able to make it back for the funeral. I showed up the day after. Chevy was mad at me for not being there for him, for leaving. When I started wondering what got me there with everybody mad at me, I realized it was because I screwed up at graduation. The next day when I woke up, it was June second again.” I remember my optimism when I first discovered this and half smile. “I was given a second chance. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why. I thought it was so I'd be able to fix everything…even keeping John alive.” I pause. “When I first heard about it, all I was told was that he was in a car accident. So when Chevy told me about his father’s alcoholism…”

“You thought you could prevent it from happening.”

“That’s why I suggested the intervention. To give him a chance to make amends and to change so that he wouldn’t get in the accident.” I bite my lip in an attempt to hold back my emotions. I grab one of the pillows on the floor beside me and squeeze it. “I said something to him, to John. I may have crossed a line, but I had to tell him that his family needed him.” I jump up and throw the pillow across the room. “But it still happened!”

“I know.”

“I tried to make my mom happy by following through with the volunteer work but I couldn’t handle it. She caught me in the lie and is madder at me than she was the first time around. I tried to get closer to Kaitlin but she’s pulling away again.” I start to pace. “And then there’s Chevy. Sure, we kissed, but if everything else fell apart like before, what was going to prevent that from failing?” I turn to Lyndsay. “Here I am wondering if there was ever a right answer. Like, it was going to end this way no matter what. It was our fate.” I recall my own words from before: It doesn’t make a difference. I clench my fists at the memory. “Nothing I could have done would have changed that fact. Maybe the lines of time intersect at the same spot eventually regardless of what choices you make.”

She shakes her head. “No, sweetie. You’re wrong.”

I press my lips together. “How am I wrong?”

“Nothing is determined by fate. We create our own fate.”

I throw my arms up. “Then why is everything the same?”

She stands up and steps toward me. “John died of a heart attack. You can’t prevent that from happening. His body was a time bomb ticking. He must have gotten in an accident the first time because he was coming home from a night out drinking when the heart attack happened to him. This time he was spending the evening with his family. His family, Adrienne.” She pauses for effect. “The first time, John had no family. Chevy didn't have a father. Noreen didn't have a husband. You gave them something they never had before—the memory of a man who loved them right before he died.”

I'm seized by the power of her words. They strike me hard in the heart. Everything that happened, everything that I had done, everything I said, every event that I caused starts to run through my mind. I thought it was all the same. It was not.

I had changed fate.

I look at her face then, overcome with what this means. Nothing made any sense until now. Now it all makes complete sense. Regardless of the fact that it changes nothing, I still changed something. Something had been changed. Whether I really knew it or not.

At this, I fall to the floor and start to cry. Lyndsay sits down next to me and holds me as I let it all out.

What Lyndsay said made me realize something important. After she leaves, I walk outside and call my father. “Hi, sweetie! How are you?”

Without thinking, I say in a rush, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? About what?” he asks.

I shouldn’t have opened with what I did but there's no turning back now. “I’m sorry for not staying in touch. I’m sorry for barely talking to you. I’m sorry for not visiting you at all.”

“Sweetie, hold on a minute. Where is this coming from? I don’t understand.”

“Did you hear about John?”

“Ah, yes. Your mom called me to let me know what happened. I’m sorry.”

“John died unexpectedly. It hurts me that his family is going to be without him. It made me start to think about the divorce. You and I kept drifting apart week after week, then month after month, until we barely spoke or saw each other. The last time we saw each other before graduation was January. I let myself get wrapped up with school and college prep. And now I’m overwhelmed with guilt—”

“No,” he interrupts. “I'm not going to let you blame yourself. This isn't your fault.”

“It’s at least partially my fault. By not making an effort, I chose to not do something about this.”

I can hear a heavy sigh through the phone. He says, “Adrienne, even if it was partially your fault, you shouldn't be the one to carry the responsibility. You may be an adult now, but I was the adult then. Not only that, I’m your father. I’m the one who has allowed things to become what they are. I could have prevented it from happening in the first place. I moved away when I could have stayed near you so there wasn’t as much distance between us. I work sixty or more hours a week when I could survive on forty or less so I could be available to see you more.” He pauses. “I made these choices for many stupid reasons. Mostly because it was devastating when your mother and I fell out of love with each other and it was hard for me to live so close to her. Working overtime keeps my mind off of the fact that she moved on and remarried somebody else.”

I didn’t know how hard my father had taken the divorce. It happened during my early teenage years. I couldn’t completely see what was going on. “I never knew all that,” I say quietly.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my troubles. It’s unfair when parents do that to their children. All it does is create even bigger rifts between them and causes bigger issues between them and their kids. You were heading into high school, and as tenacious as your mom can be about things, you needed her to help you with the girl stuff I don’t understand. I knew I could trust her to take care of you through your teenage years.”

“A girl may need her mother for some things, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t need her father too,” I tell him.

“You’re right. That is why I am the one who should be apologizing. I love you, Adrienne. You may not realize it, and I know I haven’t shown it, but you really are my world.” He starts to choke up. I was hoping I would be able to make it through this without crying but upon hearing him, the tears well up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being there.”

“How about…” I stop to sniffle. “How about we call it even, forgive each other, and try harder to stay in touch?”

“I think that is a great idea, sweetie.”

I'm sitting up in my room when I hear the front door slam. I get up and run down the stairs to see what is going on. Kaitlin is barreling through the living room into the kitchen. I walk cautiously to the edge of the kitchen.

My mom is sitting at the table. She looks up. “Kaitlin, what’s the matter?”

She yanks open the refrigerator door. “Nothing.” She slams the door and cracks open her can of pop.

Mom stands up and walks over to her. “I can tell that something is wrong. What is it?” she says gently.

“Nothing is wrong.”

“You can talk to me about whatever it is.”

“No,” she says firmly, slamming the can down on the counter. “I can’t. You wouldn’t understand at all!” She runs past me and up the stairs, slamming her door shut.

My mom touches her fingers to her temples with closed eyes. She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to do with her.” She sits down at the table with her head in her hands. “She refuses to talk to me. What am I supposed to do? Maurice won’t be home until at least ten.”

I stare at my mom with new eyes. It never really hit me that she was having the same feelings I have been having this whole time. It has to be hard to become a mom to someone else’s child, especially when they don’t seem to want a new mom.

What about a sister though?

“Let me talk to her,” I say.

My mom scoffs. “If she’s not talking to me, why would she talk to you?”

“Even if she doesn’t want to talk to me, I have to try. We’re a family. We need to at least try.” I walk off before she can respond.

I knock gently on Kaitlin’s door.

“Go away,” she says, choking on a sob.

“Not a chance.” I step into her room and sit on the bed next to her. She curls up and faces away from me. “Something has been bothering you for a while. I haven’t asked you about it or pressed the issue because I didn’t want to make you upset. I figured that if you wanted to talk about it, you would.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yes, you do. You just didn’t want to talk about it with my mom.”

“What makes you think that I want to talk to you about it?”

“What makes you think that I’m going to believe that for one second?”

She sits up and faces me. “Why do things change?”

“I suppose it’s part of growing up, unfortunately. Why?”

She picks at her fingernails. “You remember Mindy and Jaclyn, those girls that were taking the riding lessons with me and Paige?” I nod. “Well, they’re part of the popular crowd at school. When Paige and I started hanging out with them, I thought it was cool. Then Paige started to change. She spent all her time with them and barely any with me all summer. Then school started and Paige stopped meeting up with me between classes. Any time I'd talk to her, she was in a rush to get to class and couldn’t talk. Today after last period, I go up to her, Mindy, and Jaclyn in the hallway. Paige just looks at me, like she doesn’t know why I’m standing there, and says, ‘What do you want?’ I say, ‘I wanted to say hi.’ She says, ‘Why?’ I say, ‘Because you’re my best friend.’ Then she laughs.” She sniffles and wipes her nose. “And then she says, ‘Like I would be best friends with you.’ Then they’re all laughing.” She starts to cry again.