The Summer I Learned to Dive

Chapter 5

I still didn’t feel like talking to my mom but Nana persuaded me to call her. The last thing I wanted to do was hear her tell me more lies. For my entire life, I thought she knew what was best for me. That changed and I couldn’t fathom it ever going back to the way it used to be between us.

“Finn,” she said desperately. “I can’t believe you left in the middle of the night like that. Do you realize how dangerous that was?” she asked in an accusing tone.

“Mom, I didn’t call to be yelled at. Nana told me to call you to assure you I was fine,” I said becoming frustrated.

“Oh, she did,” she said with a tone of sarcasm. “How nice of her. Well, it’s time you came home,” she said.

“No,” I shook my head. “I’m not ready to come home yet. I will when I’m ready. Just give me space,” I tried to say with confidence. It was hard for me to challenge my mother.

“Well, I don’t think you know what is best for you,” she said.

“I do know what’s best for me. I don’t want to talk anymore about this.” I sighed through my nose. “I just wanted to call you to tell you I was safe and not ready to go back home,” I said although it felt strange referring to Tampa as home now.

“I don’t think you are thinking this through.” Her tone of voice made me feel like a five year old again.

I sighed. “I am, Mom. I’ve got to go,” I said and hung up the phone before she could say anything else. I didn’t want to argue with her. It was difficult listening to her because she wasn’t talking to me, she was talking at me.

She immediately sent me a text telling me to come home. I turned off my phone wanting to ignore her for a little while longer. I sat down at the table in the kitchen with Nana and breathed heavily out loud. She stroked my arm gently. “Didn’t go well?” she asked referring to the phone call.

“No, she wants me to come home,” I said. “I’m just not ready for that. I just got here,” I looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction to see if she wanted me to stay, too.

She smiled at me. “I’m selfish and don’t want you to leave either.” She watched me curiously and saw that I kept looking around the room. I knew my grandfather was home, it was his day off of work.

“He’s outside doing yard work. You should go talk to him,” she said encouraging me.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” I said shaking my head.

“He doesn’t know you. You have to take the first step with him,” she said and I obsequiously headed outside.

Jesse was standing on a ladder scraping paint off the wooden beams. He didn’t see me and I definitely didn’t want to make a point to say hi to him. I walked over to my grandfather. He was bent over, pulling a large dandelion out of the ground. The sun cast a shadow over me, revealing that I was standing right behind him.

“You here to watch or help?” he asked without looking at me.

“I,” I said unable to speak.

“How about you help, this isn’t a spectator sport,” he said still pulling weeds from the ground.

I bent over and started pulling a weed out of the flower bed. It was lodged stubbornly in the ground. I exerted myself, trying in vain to get it out of the ground. He stood up and left me there to my own devices. I felt like he didn’t want to be around me. I wondered if we were ever going to develop a relationship.

“Here,” he said throwing gloves at me, “You’ll need these.” The pair hit me in the back of my head. I grimaced from the surprise. “You were supposed to catch those. Can’t you catch?” he asked irritated.

“Next time, tell me you’re throwing something then I’ll know to catch it,” I replied annoyed.

He laughed. “Sassy little thing, aren’t you?”

“No,” I mumbled something under my breath. He laughed again. I bent over and began pulling another weed. I gave up hope on the first one. It had found its permanent home.

“You need to pull from the root.” He demonstrated, grabbing a handful of weeds at once from their roots. He made it seem so effortless.

I nodded and continued pulling the weed, this time from its root. He didn’t speak to me. Instead, we pulled weeds for a couple of hours in silence. I was the expert at being silent, he just didn’t know that. I had lived in my own world for so many years; silence was an old friend of mine.

“It’s time to eat,” he said interrupting my thoughts. “Jesse, we’re eating lunch!” he shouted. Jesse climbed down the ladder. He put on his t-shirt and followed us inside. He smiled at me as he wiped sweat off his forehead.

“It’s a scorcher out there,” my grandfather said to Nana, his tone opposite from when he spoke to me. He walked over to the sink and poured cool water on a cloth. He placed it on his pink neck.

“Your face is red. You’re supposed to be wearing a hat out there,” she said and touched his face.

She kissed him on the cheek. I admired their relationship. They were still affectionate after so many years and still in love. I wondered if my mom and dad had been the same way. I know that they had married young and went to high school together. In my mind, they were high school sweethearts, soul mates destined for each other the moment they met in freshman English class. I don’t know the true story of their meeting, of what caused the sparks. My mother never shared much with me about their relationship. It has always been easier for me to have a romantic picture of them.

We all sat down to eat lunch. The kitchen smelled of bacon. Nana had made BLT’s. I felt my grandfather staring at me as I ate. I tried not to look at him. Jesse sat next to me. His dark wavy hair was wet from sweat, his shirt soaked. He smelled good despite being outside all day.

“So Finn, have you ever had a job?” my grandfather asked.

“I volunteered at the American Cancer Society last summer.” I shrugged.

“What’d you do there?” he asked.

“Answered the phone, stuffed envelopes and filed,” I said. I bit into my sandwich.

“But you’ve never had a job where you got paid,” he continued.

“School preoccupied most of my time,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was on trial.

“When I was your age, I worked and went to school,” he said.

“It was different back in the olden days,” I said a little sarcastically, annoyed by his abrasive behavior. Nana and Jesse laughed.

“Leave her alone, Charlie,” she said. “Finn’s young. She’s got her whole life to work.” She smiled at me.

He ignored her. “You should work.”

“I will once I graduate from medical school,” I said. That had always been the plan anyway.

“That’s not the same. That’s white collar work, clean work. You need a job where you get your hands dirty.” He leaned forward, looking me square in the eye.

I folded my arms. “How is that going to help me?” I asked irritated.

“You want to be a doctor right?” he asked. He moved closer to me, intimidating me.

“Yes,” I said almost afraid to answer him.

“A lot of your patients won’t have money and will be blue collar workers, the kind of work where you get your hands dirty. You need to be able to identify with them, rather than looking down at them like they’re nothing,” he said. Then he looked at me directly in the eyes, “I saw how you were pulling weeds, how you reacted to getting your hands dirty. You didn’t like it. If you don’t like that, then your patients will know you look down on them, too.” He stood up, towering over me.

“Charlie, that was harsh,” Nana said trying to calm the situation.

“She needs to hear the truth, Lilly. That mother of hers has done her a disservice. Making her think that she’s too good to get a job. By the time Pete was sixteen, he worked at the grocery store and our diner. He was playing sports at the time and making good grades, too.” He looked at me with a smirk. “She hasn’t even had one job and she’s eighteen.”

“Charlie, that’s enough. I will not have you insulting her like that,” Nana said angrily.

“Fine. Let her never experience real life,” he said throwing his hands up the air.

I sat there quietly, too struck by what he said to say anything. I questioned everything my mother had taught me. She had always insisted that I didn’t need to get a job, that school was more important. Hearing him, what he said about experiencing life, hurt me but a small part of it made sense. I failed miserably in the social aspect, failing to make friends and never getting a boyfriend. I wasn’t one of those teenagers that worked at the fast food restaurant or the mall earning minimum wage. I wondered if I had failed in that aspect of my life, too?

“One of my waitresses just quit. How about you fill in for her till I find someone permanent?” he asked.

I hesitated. The idea of working for him did not appeal to me. But I wanted so badly to have a job, to see what it was like, to feel like everyone else my age.

“Humph, figures,” he said gruffly and left the room.

“I’ll start tomorrow!” I yelled loud enough for him to hear in the other room.

He laughed. “We’ll see how long you last,” he replied sarcastically and he closed the screen door walking outside.

“You two are just alike. You’re both so stubborn,” Nana said. “Working for him is not going to be easy, just ask Jesse” she said.

Jesse laughed. “He’s not so bad, Finn,” he added.

I looked at them both, my forehead wrinkled with worry thinking, what had I gotten myself into?