After a long pause in our conversation, where the two of us listened to the other crying, Mom spoke and said what I already believed to be true.

“Alvin, I don’t think I am going to be well enough to take you to California.”

I sighed, “I know. It’s okay.”

But then Mom’s voice became stern. “No!” she snapped, “No, it is not okay! Your father and I wanted you to compete again! Your father wanted so desperately for you to try for the teen championship.”

She was yelling into the phone now, “IT ISN’T OKAY!”

I guess Grandfather could hear Mom yelling into my ear because he had turned around. Though I couldn’t see him I knew his eyes were on the side of my head.

“Mom really, it’s okay.” I wept.

I heard Mom say something away from the phone and then the call went dead. I just sat there looking at the receiver in my hand and hoping that Mom’s voice would return.

I heard a sound behind me; I think Grandfather had cleared his throat in an attempt to get my attention. I pressed the red button on the phone and without looking, I handed it to him.

There was a long drawn out silence in the room while Grandfather let me stare at the fire and get all my tears out.

“How was your day?” he finally asked while smoke swirled around his head.

“It was good.” I said sheepishly looking around as though I were expecting something or someone to jump out and grab me.
“Get all that surfing nonsense out of your system did you? What-What!” He said while shifting in his chair. His words had been partially masked by the groaning of the leather.

“Excuse me?” I asked not sure I had heard him right.

Instead of repeating himself he said something completely different.

“Had a visit from Carl…” he fumbled briefly, then recovered, “your school principal. Yes, that’s right.”

My only response to this news was to raise a single eyebrow. For a wonderful day I had forgot that the school year wasn’t over yet, at least not here in Maine. I dreaded the idea of having to go back to school; not just because of everything that had happened, but because my friends where here and I wanted to spend as much time with them as I could.

“I am sure you will be glad to know that you have been transferred into the next grade.” Grandfather said with nearly no pageantry.

“What?” I grunted confusedly.

Grandfather puffed on his cigar, blew smoke at the fire and then added, “They have elected to close the school early this year. Skip all that end of year testing and whatnot. What-What!”

“So I don’t have to go back at all?” Even though I said it, I don’t think the idea had fully sunk in just yet.

“Well don’t sound so happy. What-What!” Grandfather scoffed at my lack of excitement.

“Huh? No…I mean, yeah… uh… I am… I mean… Well.” I couldn’t seem to get a single thought to complete.

“I’m afraid that isn’t all I have to share with you.” He said as he tossed what was more than three-quarters of a cigar into the fire. Before continuing he leaned forward in his chair, took up the fire poker and stabbed at the dwindling fire several times until the flames began to dance once more.

“Thing is, your mother will be coming home in a few days.” He said as though this were bad news.

I started to speak but he held up a hand to silence me.

“She is still not wholly well; but I believe it will do her better to be here with her family than inside…” his words trailed off, except I knew what he was about to say.

“She will have a nurse here to look after her day-and-night until she snaps out of this depression that has hold of her.”
“Snaps out?” I thought, “She lost her husband and he says it like that?”

Despite him trying to silence me once again I managed to ask, “What day is she coming home?”

I am not certain what I was feeling for sure. Mostly excitement to have Mom coming back home, but also something else that I couldn’t identify; then Grandfather named it for me.

“Your grandmother has told me that you know why your mother was sent to the hospital in the first place.” He said as he raised his fingers to his mouth and then remembered he had already discarded his cigar. He looked at the fireplace remorsefully before continuing.

“It will be important that you not let your mother know how embittered you are with her.”

“What’s embittered mean?” I asked.