Chapter 29A: Love letters aren't for parents

A/N: thanks to Jim for editing!

"It's not a big one, just a little speedboat, so we won't be sleeping in it; but there's a hotel not far from the lake that serves a decent breakfast. What do you think?" Eddie asked as he slowed down our shopping cart so I could place a gallon of milk into it.

What did I think? I thought I was tired, and wanted to go back to bed. It was Tuesday morning, and Eddie had woken me up nice and early to go run errands with him. My guess was that he wanted to make sure I was still okay after the night before. Maybe he thought I'd want to talk. I'm not sure. But, when I didn't, he'd started talking about vacations and how no one could seem to get the same days off, so he and Jase had decided on a weekend trip to a lake where apparently Jase owned a boat.

"When would we go?" I asked, yawning.

Eddie pointed past me.

"We need apple juice," he said, and I reached to get it. "How about this weekend?"

"Didn't you tell Dave he could stay over this weekend?" I asked.

"Yeah; I did, didn't I? His mom isn't going to let us take him with us if they have relatives in town--he'll have to see them eventually."

"Do we need eggs?" I asked. "I don't remember what Jase put on the list." Jase had left us a shopping list, but neither of us remembered to actually take it with us.

"Get them to be safe," Eddie replied, and we stopped so I could pick a carton. "I think we'll go the next weekend. That's about, what, two weeks before you go, right?"

"I think so," I replied, placing the eggs in the cart.

I yawned again, following Eddie as we turned down another aisle, and rubbed the goose bumps away from my arms as we got even closer to the freezer section.

"Have you given anymore thought to that?" Eddie asked, and I frowned. I did not want to have this conversation. "I mean, have you even talked to your grandma? Maybe it might be best for you to really think about staying here."

"Eddie, I've tried to talk to her," I insisted. "And... we'll work things out. Eventually."

"That's not what I meant. I know you guys can work things out, but maybe it's not the best thing for you to actually live with her."

"I lived with her just fine before I came here," I pointed out.

Eddie frowned. It looked like he was trying to choose his next words carefully. I couldn't really blame him. I was becoming irritated with this conversation, and I'm sure it showed.

"Okay," he said slowly. "Why don't you just try school here. If you don't like it..."

"Eddie..."

"Rory," he cut me off, sounding as irritated as I did, "if you try school here I'll put you on a plane tonight back to your grandma's and you can spend the next four weeks working things out with her! You... are finally starting to settle in here. You're making friends. We are getting along, aren't we?"

"Yes, but..."

"I don't want you to leave, and I think if you'd just stop and think about a few things, you'd figure out that you don't want to go, either."

I looked at Eddie, and then stared straight ahead as we walked towards the produce section. I didn't really know what to say. But I was surprised at how fast I started to consider his offer. I could go back home now. I could really say goodbye to my old life, without all of the anger and careless goodbyes, and then I could come back and...

But, it wouldn't work.

I needed to go home. Just thinking about not going back to what my life used to be made me feel sick. True, I'd reached the point where I knew it was going to be hard to say goodbye to the new people in my life. But, I grudgingly thought, they were the ones making it that way. It's not like I'd never see them again. Hell, I wouldn't be opposed to spending a whole summer in Arizona next year. But I needed to go back. I needed to go back to the way things had been before. I wished that they could understand that.

"I want to go home," I said simply. There was no beating around the bush. If I wanted to get my point across to Eddie, then I needed to be honest, and I knew it. "I can't just... not go back. I hated it when I first came here and thought I'd never be able to, but then you promised, and..."

"Rory, I'm not going to break our deal. Although, I am a little sorry I ever made it. I just want you to think..."

"I've lived there my whole life," I cut him off. "My mom and me had a home there, and that can't just go away. I want to go home, okay?... But not yet. I mean, it's not like... Eddie, I'm supposed to be here for another four weeks... I don't want to have to think about leaving the whole time--alright? Please."

Eddie's jaw twitched, and for a minute, I didn't think he'd let this drop. That would have sucked, too. Last night had left me feeling emotionally vulnerable and completely exhausted. Having to think about how the summer was almost over was not something I wanted to put up with. I actually felt physically relieved when Eddie's expression relaxed, he reached out to squeeze my shoulder, and he changed the subject.

"Let's go home and get these groceries put away and... do you want to go to lunch?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. Okay."

Things seemed tense with Eddie after the grocery store. But I think I was the only one who was feeling it. As we went home, put away the groceries, and then went out for tacos, Eddie was acting completely normal, as if we'd never had the conversation about me going home. He even sat in the basement with me for a while, later that afternoon. It didn't seem like anything in the world was bothering him. So it was just me. I guess I felt that way because the conversation had seemed unfinished. It made me uneasy, and I had a feeling that it wasn't over.

But I decided not to think about it. Eddie obviously wasn't thinking about it. Besides, it wasn't that difficult to think of a topic to get my mind off of it. All I had to do was tell Eddie that I thought a weekend trip to the lake was a good idea. He said he was glad I thought so, and then went on to explain how Jase liked to go, but they hardly ever found the time. Then, Eddie got even more excited when I explained that other than a bumper boat and other amusement park rides, I'd never actually been on a boat. That led to a conversation about how I'd never been to the ocean, either, and as a result, Eddie began to plan a vacation for spring break right then and there. He even broke out pictures from the last time he'd been to the beach with Jase and Luke.

In the pictures, they were all younger. A lot younger. Eddie had a dark beard hiding his face and Jase's blond hair, which I was used to seeing short and neatly combed, was windblown and down to his ears. Luke looked different, too. He looked small and thin, lacking any of the muscle that he had now. He was at least a foot and a half shorter. But he still had those blond curls and blue eyes that demanded attention. His eyes were the first thing in the photograph that I seemed capable of focusing on. There was really only one noticeable difference that stuck with me when it came to these images of Luke. He wasn't smiling in any of them.

"That was right after he moved in with us," Eddie explained. "Jase and I already had the trip planned, and since Luke was going through a pretty hard time, we thought it might be good for him to get away, so we all went."

I turned the page and came face to face with Luke throwing one of the dirtiest looks over his shoulder that I'd ever seen. I would have laughed if it didn't look so scary, and maybe a little beautiful, too. The sea and the incoming storm that made up the photograph's background seemed to match his mood perfectly.

"Whoa," I remarked, and Eddie leaned towards me on the sofa to get a better look.

"Yeah, he wasn't a very happy kid back then... Have you and Luke talked about why he's living with us?"

"I know his mom died," I replied quietly, still staring at the picture. "If that's what you mean."

"Do you guys talk about that?" Eddie asked curiously.

"Sometimes," I admitted. "I think we can understand each other..." I suddenly stopped and looked at Eddie. "Hey, Eddie, why's his dad in jail?"

"He told you that, too?" Eddie asked, seemingly surprised.

I nodded. "He wouldn't say why."

Eddie looked thoughtful for a moment, and a little torn.

"Do you want me to tell you?" Eddie finally said. "Or would you like to try asking Luke?"

I sighed. Something told me that Eddie really would tell me if I asked him to, but when I took a minute to think about it, it seemed that hearing it from Eddie might be a betrayal of Luke's trust, and despite my curiosity, it wasn't a risk I was willing to take. I found myself smiling at Eddie momentarily before I returned to the photograph, grateful that he'd given me an opportunity to do the right thing and be patient.

"Can I ask you something else about him then?" I asked.

"I guess so," he replied, regarding me curiously.

"Why does he live with you guys?" I asked. "I mean, I know Jase is his cousin, but didn't he have any other family? I mean, was it because he's gay?"

Eddie seemed to think about that for a minute.

"No. I don't think that had anything to do with it," he replied. "He does have family, Rory. His grandfather offered to take him in, but he didn't want Luke to have to live in a retirement community if it wasn't necessary. And Jase's parents wanted to take him in, too. But that year Jase's dad passed away and his mom was having a pretty hard time. She's the one who asked us to take him on a temporary basis. It was only supposed to be until she was ready for Luke to move in with her, but by the time that happened, he'd already settled in with us. We made it permanent when Luke told us that's what he wanted."

"Oh... so do you guys ever see Jase's mom, or..."

"Usually we all go visit around Christmas," Eddie explained. "Luke's grandpa is living with her now. They're nice people. I think you'd like them."

"But what about his dad's side of the family?" I asked. "Does he see them?"

"No, not really. I know that for a while he kept in touch with his grandparents, but not anymore. It's his choice."

I simply nodded as I continued to flip through the photo album, and when I didn't say anything Eddie stood up and spoke again.

"I should probably call Jase and find out what he's doing for dinner. I'm going upstairs, you want anything?"

"No thanks," I replied.

I wondered if Luke would mind me asking him about his family again. I hoped that he'd be more comfortable talking about it with me now. Hell, I'd wanted him with me when I opened my mom's box before I'd even thought of anyone else. I hoped that by now, Luke could feel as comfortable with me. Not that I expected it from him. If he didn't want to talk to me about it, I'd try to understand that. I'd just be disappointed.

When Aaron and I were together, I'd spent way too much time thinking about him. At least, that was the impression that I was under. I was constantly wondering when I was going to see him, and I'd worry about whether or not we were going to get into a stupid, stressful argument. I'd think about how much I liked him, and how nice it was to discover the kind of intimacy that I'd never had before with another guy--an attractive guy who seemed to like something about me. But in the end, the stress that I felt when I was with Aaron seemed to outweigh any pleasant feelings that I'd developed for him.

Now that I was with Seth, it seemed that I thought about him just as often. When I knew I wasn't going to see him, like on Tuesday because he was working another double shift, I'd become a little restless. But it wasn't a stressful feeling. Actually, I found that there was nothing stressful about thinking about Seth. I thought about the times I'd already spent with him more than I'd think about the next time I'd see him; and remembering little things, like the way he walked close to me, or the way that he'd let me initiate things between us physically before he'd make any moves, or even the dimple in his left cheek when he smiled, made me want to see him even more. But the thing that I liked most about thinking about Seth, was knowing that he thought about me just as much; and I was aware of this because he seemed to make an effort to make me aware of it without actually saying it to me.

On Tuesday, Seth called me twice while he was at work. The first time was to ask if I was feeling better after the night before. The second time was just to say hi. And when I talked to Seth, we really talked. I was beginning to learn little details about him, like how he liked grape soda but didn't care for grape popsicles; or that when he was on the phone with me, little else could get his attention, if the way that I could hear his dad continuously calling for him in the background the second time he called me was any indication. And in a very short amount of time, I realized that I actually cared about all of these details. With Aaron, I was curious, mostly because I didn't understand him, and of course because he rarely ever talked to me about anything real. With Seth, I simply liked talking to him. He was easy to listen to, and he was easy to talk to. And when I wasn't around him, most of the time I wanted to be talking to him.

He surprised me on Tuesday night when he came over directly after he got off work. Before, he'd mentioned that he wanted to go to bed early because he was working the early shift the following day. But, he stopped by because he wanted to see me. We sat on his tailgate for ten minutes just holding hands while we talked about our plans for the rest of the week. Seth was looking forward to the weekend because he didn't have to work at all, and I told him that I'd probably spend the next few days with Eddie while he was still home from work. Seth asked me if I wanted to do something with him on Saturday, and I agreed before I kissed him and sent him home.

That was another thing about Seth: I found myself becoming disgustingly considerate. I didn't want him to leave. I wanted to go somewhere with him until midnight when my curfew got in the way. I had a feeling that if I asked him to, he'd stay out with me, too. But he was tired. That was easy enough to see. I knew he had to work early, so I sent him home because I didn't want him to be tired in the morning.

But, I was rewarded for it on Wednesday when Seth surprised me again by coming over before he went to work--and, he brought breakfast. Not only for the two of us, but Eddie, too. And it was behavior like this that had me thinking about him all the time. It didn't hurt that both Eddie and Jase mentioned that they liked Seth. I'd been completely unaware that I wanted their approval on the matter until I realized I already had it.

By the time Friday rolled around, I felt like Eddie and I had eaten in every worthwhile restaurant in a fifteen-mile radius. We'd played laser tag, he'd shown me how to shoot a decent game of pool, I could finally park confidently, and we were both a little sunburned from spending so much time outside and in the pool. I wasn't really looking forward to him going back to work the following week. But at least he said I could go into work with him for a few days if I wanted to. And in the meantime, it was already beginning to look like the weekend would be interesting.

Around four o'clock, Jase called the house and asked Eddie to come get him because his tire had blown out on the way home, and according to Jase, the donut he was supposed to replace it with was defective. According to Eddie, that meant that Jase wasn't capable of changing a tire, something he made me swear never to repeat to Jase. When Eddie left, I decided to wait back at the house. There was something I'd been meaning to do, anyway.

I'd been looking at my mom's wish list every single night before I went to bed. The little book tended to bring me a sense of peace. But I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't been avoiding her diary. I had been. But not because I didn't want to read it. I really did. It was how I wanted to read it, that was in question. Only the night before, I'd discussed this very dilemma with Luke. The only thing I was certain of, was that I wanted to take my time with it. And as Luke simply put it, I could start at the beginning, just as my mom likely had when she wrote it, or I could skip straight to the end, where there could be answers about what had been going through my mom's head when she decided not to tell me about Eddie before she passed away. On Friday afternoon, when I found myself left alone in the house, it was the beginning of the book that I was flipping to as I sat in the basement with the sound of the television in the background. I'd thought about playing another of my mom's CD's, but felt that it would be too distracting.

As I read, within two pages, it occurred to me that it was possible that when my mom had started writing her diary, she'd never intended for me to see it. She wouldn't have written down all of her feelings--what had been going through her mind, knowing that she was going to die--if she'd intended for me to read it. When I'd been with her, I'd been terrified, devastated. But my mom had been very clear with me. She'd accepted the fact. We were going to make the best of the time that she did have, and in the end, everything would work out okay. She was adamant in this belief when we first found out. But the pages in her diary told a different story.

Disbelief. My mom had been in utter disbelief over the entire situation. I learned that she'd secretly gone to two other specialists in the same week, looking for different opinions. They both told her that the cancer was too advanced. Any treatment she could have sought likely would have made the rest of the time she did have a very difficult one. So, she'd chosen to spend it the best she could, with me.

I wasn't sure how I felt about reading that. If there was even the remotest chance that she could have been with me longer, I would have wanted her to take it. But that seemed selfish if longer meant more pain for her. I thought of those last few months and shivered, knowing that I'd never want her to go through that again.

By page five, I was simply reading my mother's thoughts. She'd made notes of what we did each day. I remembered a lot of it, and for at least four pages in a row, she didn't even mention that she was dying. In some places, she mentioned what she planned to do in a month or so, as if she had no doubt that she'd be around then. As I read some of the pages, it was as if my mother didn't even know that she was going to die. That was probably because she wasn't obsessing over it. She was doing better than I had. In the first few weeks of knowing, all I'd been able to do was obsess over it. She was definitely stronger than me, and knowing it seemed to give me some peace. I was happy for her, that she hadn't wasted most of her time worrying about what would ultimately happen.

By page ten, I felt a little overwhelmed. I wasn't reading anything particularly bothersome. It was just being in my mom's head that I needed a break from. So I closed the diary, wanting to come up for air. I stood up, ready to take it back to my room and lock it as it had been before I opened it; but I hadn't even made it to my room before I felt strong arms close in on me from behind, pulling one of my arms back as another moved around my neck, trapping me in an obnoxiously constricting headlock.

"Guess what?" Luke's voice came excitedly from behind me, as I resisted his grip.

"Luke!" I objected.

"Guess!" he insisted.

"You have to attack people just to get them to talk to you?" I tried, and Luke laughed.

"Nope. We're going to the lake next weekend."

"Um... didn't we already know this?" I replied. "Wanna let go now?"

"Nope," he responded, but did anyway, only to tickle my ribs. I laughed, moving away from him, but not before I dropped my mom's diary in the process.

Luke looked down at it as I turned to look at him, and frowned.

"Shit," he cursed as he moved to pick it up. "Sorry, Rory."

"That's okay," I replied. "So what's with the good mood?"

"Shopping," Luke replied, smiling again. "I'm gonna go get a new swimsuit. Wanna come?"

"Sure," I replied, watching as he lifted the diary and held it out for me. I hardly had my hand on it before several small envelopes fell from the pages.

"Shit. Sorry," Luke said again as he knelt down to gather those, too. "What are these?" he asked as he picked them up, and I knelt down to help.

"I dunno. There's a lot of stuff like that hidden in the pages," I replied. I took one of the envelopes from Luke and opened it up to find a neatly folded piece of notebook paper that didn't have my mom's handwriting on it. It had someone else's handwriting on it. It was the name signed at the bottom of the paper that caught my attention. It was Eddie's.