my peanut butter.”
Lennie’s eyes bulge. “Why in the world are you skipping the best part of a PB&J?”
I shrug. “My mom didn’t put it on our sandwiches because she didn’t like us to get messy when we were kids.”
Lennie sighs. “That’s crazy. Kids are supposed to get messy. That’s why they invented bathtubs.” Lennie sets down the knife she was using then grabs my hand. “Come on. We’re going to the store, and we’re picking out some damn jelly. I don’t even care what kind as long as you’re eating an actual PB&J.”
I pull my hand back. “Are you able to accept that maybe I don’t like jelly?”
Lennie straightens and stares at me. “If you’ve tried jelly and don’t like it, then of course I can accept that you only want a PB sandwich.” Lennie reaches for my hand again. “Come on. You’re about to discover the wonderful world of jelly, and I promise, you won’t get dirty.”
I still don’t know much about Lennie Jacobs, but I already know she’s the type of person who can accept someone exactly the way they come. Now it’s time to find out if I can do the same.
EVERY HAPPY MEMORY I HAVE of my parents is from before my life changed. My parents rarely think out of the box, at least with their personal lives. My behavior as a teenager alone was almost enough to make them hate me, but with every year that’s passed, I’ve added to it. My flaky behavior and tattoos are reason enough for them to spend hours yelling at me, but after Sunday, I’m past the point of caring.
When I left their house the other night, I felt like I was officially shutting the door on my relationship with them, and as much as I want to pretend otherwise, it hurts like a bitch.
Today, my father sent me a text questioning the amount of money I’ve spent in the last year. The fact that he has access to my personal banking is beyond disturbing. I’ve gone out of my way to slowly remove my family from my life and right now the desire to get in my car and leave is strong.
People tend to think nothing bothers me, but that’s simply not true. Sometimes I think everything bothers me. I just do a better job of hiding it. After spending more time than I should have sulking like a little girl, I force myself to get up and head to the animal shelter. If there’s anything that can make me feel better it’s spending time with an animal that appreciates me.
“Lennie, we missed you.” Carla smiles.
“Sorry, I had some family problems come up.”
“Don’t be sorry, honey. We’re willing to take anything you can offer.”
Her comment causes me to pause. How can a complete stranger take me as is but my own parents can’t see past what they consider flaws? There have been quite a few times when I’ve wondered if I’m living my life the way I should. If maybe I’m shortchanging myself out of the things that seem to appeal more to others. Then a simple comment from a person who’s virtually a stranger reminds me of why I’m the person I am today.
“Thank you, Carla.”
Thank you for being the voice of reason in my hectic mind, for reminding me not to change...for anyone.
***
I TURN THE KNOB ON TYLER’S door and smile when I once again find it unlocked. He can say whatever he wants, but if he truly didn’t want me here, he’d lock his door. Then again, maybe he just doesn’t want me to get Frank and stir up more trouble.
I quietly wander in only to find him at his computer with his back to the door and his headphones on. He’s worried about everyone else’s security but apparently not his own.
I crash on his couch and flip the TV on and still nothing. For the next half hour, I find myself watching Tyler more than the TV.
Tyler is the kind of guy who’s sexy without even trying. I bet if I strip him of his clothing and took away his computer, he’d be fucking hot. His dark hair is short but messy, and when he goes a few days without shaving, that scruff starts to do things to me. In the last
Mark Singer
David Tucker
Dusty Lassetter
Sally Bradley
Rachel A. Marks
John R. Maxim
Terence M. Green
Relentless
Patricia Hagan
David Hair