Chapter 1

My name is Matthew Russell and this is the story of my life. I suppose that I should start when I was born and work my way through my earliest recollections, but for the life of me, I can’t find much of interest to my adult self. I suppose the tale that matters is my journey from childhood to adulthood. I guess the best place to start is the year I turned 14.

My mother and father had never had a loving marriage that I could remember. It had never really occurred to me to pay much attention, although there were times that I was aware that their marriage was different from the ones that we would see on television or movies. There was the obligatory peck on the lips at Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries and New Years, but that was the extent of the affection between our parents. My sister, Lilly and I were left to puzzle this out for ourselves until that summer.

I had just finished 8th grade a few weeks ago and had my birthday a few days after that. Being 14, I was nervously awkward and more aware of my failings and shortcomings than I cared to admit. Between my changing voice and being suddenly distracted by girls that had been around all my life, I was certain that everyone was laughing at me, irritated by my lack of focus or disgusted by what I felt they must be able to tell I was thinking about when one of the neighborhood girls walked by.

I’d signed up for a summer baseball league, but wasn’t very good, owing to the fact that the league was for both boys and girls. Normally I was fairly good at baseball, but at that age, all my attention was on the girls on the field. It was a Tuesday afternoon and Becky Powers and I were riding our bikes home. She was chatting away happily and I was slowly recovering my wits from the dull fog that descended on my brain whenever there were girls around. Becky was different for some reason my teenage mind couldn’t fathom. I’d known Becky for years, ever since our family had moved in next door to the Powers family. Her sister Lana was two years older than I was at 16 and if I was bad around most girls, I was worse for Lana. No matter how hard I tried, when Lana came around the corner, I couldn’t seem to focus on anything but her. Becky always found it hilarious the way I’d freeze in front of her sister, but she always waited until Lana was out of sight before she’d tease me about it.

This particular Tuesday, there was no Lana in sight though. Later on, I’d sincerely wished she’d been there. No, that’s not true. I ALWAYS wished she was there. We pulled our bikes into her driveway and Becky cut off what she’d been saying about the game.

“Isn’t that your dad’s car?” she asked, pointing over to our driveway where the familiar Chevy Impala was parked for some reason. My dad worked regular hours and unless it was a holiday or something was wrong, he wasn’t home before 5:30 each night, working as an accountant for a shipping company in Boston. We lived in Winchester which was too far for us to ride our bikes into the city, but close enough for occasional trips in for shopping or sightseeing.

I frowned at the car and nodded. “Yeah,” I said slowly, suddenly uneasy. The trunk of the car was open and the back seat was piled high with stuff, some of which had come from the home office dad had in the basement. I looked at Becky and some of what I was feeling must have shown through because she suddenly looked as apprehensive as I did. “I’m gonna go see what’s going on,” I said. “See you after supper?”

“Sure,” she said, but didn’t sound as chipper as she had on the ride home. I walked my bike over the fence between her driveway and our lawn and propped it up there before hopping over the top. I almost always left my bike in her yard. My dad always hated it being in the way even though I didn’t ever think it actually was.

I was still frowning as I crossed the lawn. I could hear voices inside and they sounded angry. I had a sinking feeling and wondered what I’d done and how bad the punishment was going to be. I didn’t see my sister around so she was either out with her friends or inside listening to what was about to happen. By the time I got to the door, I was actually shaking a little and took a deep breath, willing myself to hold still before I opened the door and walked into the living room.

My mother looked furious as my dad was walking around the room going through bookshelves and putting things into a large box on the couch. “Mom? Dad?” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t going to randomly crack like it sometimes did. “What’s going on?” It was the only thing I could think to ask. I couldn’t come up with anything I’d done wrong that was bad enough to pull my father away from the job in the middle of the afternoon. I looked back and forth between the two of them, knowing there was something deeply, gravely not right, but again, my teen-aged mind failed me and I couldn’t make sense out of what I was seeing.

“Yes, Donald,” my mother snapped angrily. “Go ahead. Tell your son what’s going on.” She had her arms crossed and looked more furious than I can ever remember seeing her. I knew whatever it was, it was bad. They only ever referred to me as ‘your son’ when they were utterly disgusted with me. I started to wonder if they’d found the two dirty magazines I’d hidden in the back of my desk drawer and my mouth went dry.

That didn’t explain things though. The box on the couch, the car filled with things from dad’s office or him being here during the day. It certainly didn’t explain the look on his face. Looking back now, I know it was a mixture of shame, regret and embarrassment. He finally turned to me and sighed, some of the tension billowing out of him with that breath. “Son, I’m moving out. Your mother and I are getting a divorce.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. I didn’t understand divorce in the same way I would in later years or even later that year. I remember Jeremy Lake’s parents had gotten a divorce last year. He’d been taken out of school and his mother took him to live in Montana afterwards. It meant families split up. “Where’s Lilly?” I asked woodenly, afraid of what the answer would be, afraid that she was going away too and that I wouldn’t get a chance to see her again before she was taken away. We’d always been as close as siblings can be. Suddenly I was cold, panic and shock making the summer heat fade away to dim memories as ice seemed to fill my veins. There were a thousand things I wanted answers to. Nothing made sense and my limited understanding of divorce led me to only one conclusion: he was taking her away. “Where’s Lilly?!” I demanded this time, my voice stronger, frantic as I waited for an answer.

My mother grimaced and crossed the room to me, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me close. It wasn’t until her arms closed around me that I realized I was shaking. “Well done, Donald. I see you care as much for your children’s feelings as you do about mine. Just pack your crap and get out,” she snarled at him before turning her attention to me. She made soothing noises and stroked my hair, something she used to do when I was younger and I was sick. I slowly put my arms around her and held on, my mind torturing me with thoughts that she might go away too. She must have understood because she held me and whispered that it was okay and that she was here. “Your sister went out on her bike right after lunch. She’ll be back for supper and we’ll talk about it more then,” she promised.

I could hear the sounds of my father moving around, emptying the room and the rest of the house of traces of him. I opened my mouth to say something and I started to cry. “I’M SORRY!” I sobbed, not knowing what else to do, what else to say. I clung to her inconsolably as I watched my family being torn apart. She clung to me just as tightly and whispered it wasn’t my fault and that I didn’t have anything to be sorry for.

After a while, she pulled my head back to look at me and smiled. There were tears in her eyes too, but her voice was strong and calm when she told me to go up to my room and she’d call me for dinner. I was reluctant to let go and I was still shaking. She gave me a kiss on the forehead and smiled reassuringly.

I looked down and nodded, finally releasing the death-grip I’d had on her. Before I turned to go, I looked up at her and said in a low voice, “Don’t let him take Lilly away.” It wasn’t a request, but a command to hold our family together. She smiled and nodded before patting me on the shoulders and gently steering me toward the stairs.

I walked upstairs slowly, going into my room and flopping down on the bed. I could still hear them downstairs arguing about it. I tried not to listen, but the arguing turned to shouts. It seemed that he’d come home early to try to pack everything and be gone before he had to explain to either Lilly or I what was going on.

I’d never been particularly close to my dad, but he was my dad. The thought of him leaving was insurmountable in that moment. He’d always been there. Now I was staring at the wall, hearing the last shots in a war of words between him and mom. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t understand. Finally, I got to my feet and went downstairs again, walking into the living room as he was putting a box by the door.

Neither of them noticed me there at first. Mom was furiously berating him for the callous way he’d treated me and how he was trying to sneak off before he had to face Lilly. He was taping the box shut with his back turned.

I walked in and stood by the wing chair my mother liked to sit in to watch TV and put one hand on the top of it before I spoke. “Why?” I asked in a clear, loud voice. I was surprised how the word sounded, sure it would come out with the tremble I felt trying to work it’s way out of my chest and through my whole body.

My father looked up, seeing me standing there and he finally had the decency to look upset. “Matt, that’s not an easy question to answer,” he started, trying to be gentle this time.

“Yes it is,” I countered, a tone of anger threading through the dull wooden shock. In a distant part of my mind, I recognized the same feeling in my head as when I looked at Lana. Not the pain, but the dull, thick feeling, like other thoughts were hard to hold onto. “Any time I do something wrong, you ask me why and make me explain,” I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth as if someone else was speaking them. “So, why? Why are you running away? Why wouldn’t you tell us? Why would you try to sneak away without even asking us what we want? WHY?!!?” My voice raised with every word until I screamed the last one, hurling it at him with all the hate and spite that only a teenager can muster.

The room was quiet for a long time. I could hear birds outside through the open windows, but never thought about anyone outside overhearing. It didn’t matter right now. “Because I don’t love your mother any more,” he said simply. There was no heat in it, no hate. It was a dispassionate statement of fact. He was rarely ever roused to anger and today was no different.

I was angry enough for all of us. “Then fuck you!” I spat hatefully. “Take your precious THINGS and go. We don’t need you any more.” I lowered my voice and said coldly, “I hope you die.” I’d never spoken to anyone that way, let alone my father. I turned to leave the room.

“Hold it right there, young man!” he shouted, finally showing some emotion. “I know this is hard, but I’m still your father and I-”

“No you’re not!” I cut him off harshly, looking over my shoulder at him. “You stopped being anyone’s father when you decided to run out on us,” I said in the same cold monotone that had risen up from inside me somewhere. “Take your things and go, Donald,” I said, emphasizing his name like a slap across the face. “And don’t forget to leave your key. If you’ve forgotten anything, mail us a list and postage and we’ll send it to you. Don’t come back.”

I turned and walked away, climbing the stairs back to my room. This time I shut the door and turned on the radio before stretching out on my bed. I stared at the ceiling and thought about what I’d just said and done. The adrenaline that had flooded my system was burning off and I was cold all over again, so I got up and crawled under the covers, shivering even though the radio said the temperature was in the high nineties. I couldn’t tell, but it sounded quiet downstairs. After a while, I could hear the trunk on the car slam and the engine turned over a moment later. That meant he was gone.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door and I raised my head as my mother opened it to peek in. Seeing me wrapped up in the blanket, she opened the door and came to sit with me. “How you feeling?” she asked gently, reaching up to smooth my hair. She looked concerned.

“Mostly cold,” I admitted with a frown. “Is he gone?” I asked and she nodded her head. “Good. Did he leave anything behind?”

“Oh probably,” she said, sounding tired. “It’s not easy to get everything at one time.” She was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “You were pretty hard on him,” she pointed out gently.

“He deserves it,” I said simply. “He didn’t act like he was upset or even like he cared that we are.” I sat up and pulled the blankets around myself to stay warm while we talked.

“Oh he was upset,” she said, moving and putting her arm around him. “As much as he and I aren’t in love any more, your father does love you and your sister dearly. What you said hurt him a lot.” She was still talking gently, knowing that I was a raw nerve at the moment.

“Too bad for him,” I said. “If he doesn’t love you, then he doesn’t get to love me. We’re a family. He can’t pick and choose. He doesn’t GET to. I meant what I said. He stopped being my father when he started packing the car.” I hesitated and then I went on, speaking my mind. “When he told me like that, just threw it out there, I was scared, I didn’t know what to think. What was gonna happen to us? Were you gonna leave too? Was Lilly? I didn’t know what to do until you said you were staying. Now, I don’t know. I still feel like our family’s being torn apart, but I guess it feels like the part that’s gone was the least important part. I guess it feels like he was never really here to begin with so losing him is like losing a lottery ticket that you never checked the numbers on. Doesn’t really matter because it was something you never had. Does that sound stupid?” I asked, not really able to tell whether I was making sense or not.

She laughed a little and squeezed me tight. “No, it doesn’t sound stupid at all,” she assured me kindly. “When Lilly gets home, we’ll talk about things more,” she promised. “I know it’s a big change and you both have a lot to think about. I’ll try to answer all your questions. We’ll get through this. I promise.” She gave me another tight hug and kissed my forehead before telling me she loved me. “I’m gonna start dinner. You wanna come help or do you wanna stay here and keep warm for a little while longer?”

I nodded and pulled back the blankets so I could get up.

She led the way to the kitchen and started me on peeling potatoes while she prepared a meatloaf. “I think we’ll stick to a simple dinner tonight,” she said with a slight smile. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.” She looked over at me and smiled again. “Matt, I want you to know how proud I am of you for standing up to your father like that. Besides the swearing, that is. But I think we can overlook some colorful language under the circumstances. Never stop standing up for what you believe. Promise me that.”

I nodded and gave her my word. She gave me another of her smiles and went back to what she was doing. I lost myself in thought until I heard my sister come in the front door, a bundle of energy and enthusiasm. I frowned, dreading having to tell her about today and Mom caught my eye and nodded understandingly. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get through it,” she promised before raising her voice. “Lilly, honey! We’re in the kitchen,” she called out.

“Hey Mom,” Lilly said, going straight to the fridge in a swirl of blue hair. She’d convinced our parents to let her dye it and the latest shade was shockingly electric blue. Lilly was a year younger than me and made life louder and more vibrant every chance she could. By this point, she was convinced that she had what it took to make it to the top in the music industry and the hair was part of her persona.

She stopped on the way out of the kitchen and looked back at where I was busy with the bag of garbage I was tying up to take to the cans outside bungee corded to the fence on the other side of the driveway. Usually when she came into a room and greeted everyone else, I’d make a comment about being part of the furniture or something similar and we’d trade comments. It was never mean-spirited, but today, I just couldn’t rouse myself from my own thoughts and she sensed something was off.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, still half-joking. “Did Lana get a new boyfriend? Or was your afternoon game that bad?”

I looked up and whatever she saw in my face scared her because I saw all the color drain out of her face. I looked to Mom for help, not wanting to bludgeon her with the revelation like had happened to me.

“Sweetie,” Mom said gently, taking her by the shoulders and steering her to the kitchen table to sit down. “Your brother got a bit of a shock today.” She looked at me and then sat down with Lilly and took her hand. “I’m afraid your father won’t be coming home for dinner tonight. In fact, he’s not going to be around the house any more. He and I have decided to separate, so he’s going to be living somewhere else, but don’t worry. You’ll still be able to see him whenever you feel like it. It doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Just that he won’t be living here with us any more.” She was watching my sister very closely and stroking the side of her face slowly, trying to soften the blow.

Neither of us expected what she said next. “He finally told you about his secretary, huh?” she said evenly, opening the bottle of juice she’d pulled out of the fridge and taking a drink.

“What?!” I blurted out, confused. “What about his secretary?” I looked back and forth between them, the bag of garbage at my feet forgotten. Mom was taken aback by what she’d said, but something in the restraint she was showing whispered to me that she was aware of this secretary.

“He has naked pictures of her on his phone,” Lilly said like there was nothing wrong. “I found them a while back. There’s a lot of them and some of the two of them together.”

Mom looked very interested in the mention of this but hadn’t said anything to this point about it. “Does your father know you saw them?” she asked carefully.

Lilly shook her head and smirked. “When I found them, I used his phone to send them all to my phone. I figured they might come in handy. I also made copies on my laptop.”

Mom got a very smug smile on her face and patted my sister’s hand, nodding. “Yes Honey, I think they’re going to come in VERY handy.” she said, sounding amused.

It suddenly occurred to me that I’d been the only one that hadn’t seen this coming. My sister finding the pictures and Mom’s lack of surprise made me certain that she’d known all along. I was left to just plod along and take the blow in the side of the head while everyone else had prepared ahead of time. I picked up the bag of trash and took it outside, dropping it in the can and stuffing it down on top of the one that had already been in there before shoving the lid back on more forcefully than necessary.

I looked around the back yard and decided to hide away in the garage ‘til I felt like going back to the house. We had a detached garage big enough for two cars even though we never used it to park cars except for times when we were predicted to get a big snowstorm overnight. Mostly the space was taken up with odds and ends. In the winter, the lawnmower and patio furniture was stored in there along with our snow-blower and shovels. There was an old fridge in the back corner that we kept drinks in during the summer and a workbench along the back wall where Dad had kept his limited supply of tools. We weren’t allowed to play in the garage because of the tools and lack of supervision, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I felt like I’d been set adrift all over again by how clueless I was.

I didn’t know what I was feeling, but I hated it. At the same time I wallowed in it. Everyone knew except me. No one had thought to tell me anything, to let me in on the secret and give me the heads-up. I was angry at Dad (Donald, I told myself harshly), angry at Mom for keeping it from me, pissed at Lilly for not telling me about the pictures because I’d never had a secret from her from the time we were little. I was angry at myself too for not seeing the signs. They all seemed so obvious to me in that moment looking back, even though they really weren’t. I sat and castigated myself for not piecing together the subtle signs that couldn’t possibly have made sense to me in the moment.