“I don’t know, Mom. College, jobs, marriage, life. Stuff. He’s gone, ya know? But he’s still here, kind of? So, we’re all just sort of leaving him behind, and that’s sad.”
Her hand reached out for mine, gently stroking the top of it. “It’s totally normal to be sad for a while when you lose your boyfriend.” She paused, looking at me with mom eyes, like she knew something and wanted confirmation. “Or even just a best friend,” she finished, her voice soft and knowing.
“What do you mean?” I whispered.
“No matter what Chelsea says about you and Cory, I want you to know that you were the light of that boy’s life. You made his life beautiful, and you were an angel to him. And you’ve done your time. You do not need to mourn him forever, Kenz. And moving on, getting on with your life and doing all the things Cory will never get to do is your right. You can’t sacrifice parts of your life for someone who’s passed, sweetie. Do you understand?”
“I think so. I just don’t understand why we’re talking about it. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, baby. No. I just see you going through the motions. I know you’re still adjusting to life without him, but I don’t want Chelsea’s words to take root. She’s in a very different space than you. She lost so much more than you did. It’s not fair for her to want you to suffer like she is. She’s entitled to mourn in whatever way she chooses, and so are you.”
“You mean, like, dating other boys, or going to dances, and stuff?”
“I mean living. You don’t have to run out and date the first boy who asks, but if you feel like you want to, then, yeah. Go on a date.”
I looked down at my hands, noticing all my cuticles were practically gone thanks to my nervous habit of picking at them. “Why did you say Cory was just my best friend?”
“Listen, ever since Cory died, your father and I have been keeping a watchful eye.” Her words made my heart speed up and worry crashed through me, panic settling in. “And it’s okay if I’m totally off base here, and I’m sorry if this upsets you, but your dad and I just noticed that you’ve been mourning the Cory you’ve known for the last eighteen years, but not the Cory who you might have spent the rest of your life with.”
Again, my eyebrows drew together. “What does that mean?” My voice was a whisper again.
“It means that we see you missing the boy you grew up with, the one who teased you, protected you, played with you, but we haven’t seen you mourn the future you lost with him. The marriage, the children, the life.” She must have noticed the realization come over my face, the proof that I was taking in her words and putting them together, and that I knew she’d figured out my true feelings for Cory. “McKenzie,” she said soothingly, “it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, do anything, or act a certain way. The truth is, whatever you had with Cory, it doesn’t matter anymore. But I don’t want you to be trapped in this vision you have of what your grief is supposed to look like. There’s no timetable for moving forward. No manual. No instructions. As long as you’re still the smart, sweet, bright, and caring girl we raised, your father and I will stand behind you. We just want to make sure you live, mostly because Cory can’t. And he’d want you to.”
“Okay,” I said, only because I had no idea how else to respond.
“And until Chelsea is back on her feet and a little more stable, I think it’s best if you don’t go over there.”
“What?” I asked with more force than I intended. “What do you mean?”
“Baby, I just don’t want Chelsea to say things to you that she shouldn’t. I just know one day she’ll feel terrible for the pressure she’s putting on you about all this. And I want to spare both of you the pain of going through all that. And honestly, sometimes I think seeing you sets her back.”
“Really?” I hadn’t thought of that, but looking back on all our interactions over the last month or so, I could totally see what my mom was talking about. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Oh, we know, honey. We know. Daddy and I just want you to be healthy and happy, and right now, the Wallace house isn’t a good place for you to be.”
“But what about Hayes?”
“You know Hayes is welcome at our house any time.”
“But he needs me. I’m the only friend he has here.”
My mother held my gaze, staring intently into my eyes, and I never wavered.
“Okay, a compromise. Hayes can come here to visit you if he needs to, and you may go to his house only if your father or I go with you.”
I thought about all the potential time lost with Hayes if I couldn’t go over alone, but then I saw the concern and love written all over my mom’s face and I knew I had no reason to argue.
“Okay.”
She smiled at me, patted my hand, and then went to the refrigerator, starting to prepare dinner, and it was like the last ten minutes never happened.
Later that evening, alone in my room, I called Hayes. There was so much to talk about, so much to tell him.
“Hey, babe,” he answered, the phone only ringing a few times.
“Hey.”