Junk Miles Read online

  “Jake, I got another big present today.” I sat up and pushed the bangs off of my forehead. He waited. “I got a ticket to Paris.”

  “France?” Jake’s voice rang with more genuine enthusiasm than I’d been able to muster.

  “Yes.” I was about to spill the details, but his excitement for me eclipsed my attempts.

  “That’s perfect, babe. You‘ve wanted to go to forever.” Jake knew how much I wanted to see Paris. “You and Mom going?” It was weird to hear him call her ‘Mom,’ but also kind of cute. He didn’t do it to her face. When he talked to her it was always strictly Mrs. Blixen. He just referred to her as ‘Mom’ with me.

  “Yes.” I dragged the word out slowly.

  “Cool.” He seemed actually cool with it. “When?”

  “Day after tomorrow.” I rushed the words out — like ripping a Band-Aid off in one shot — and winced. In the second of silence Jake took to collect his thoughts or quietly freak out or hang up on me, I added the clincher that was sure to break his heart. And mine. “And I‘ll stay all winter break.”

  Jake let out a long sigh. I knew what he felt. I pictured a big, bright, shiny balloon suddenly punctured by a sharp needle. “It’s so good for you and Mom to do this together. I’ll be able to pick up more work at Zinga’s. Can I call you?” There was an almost unnoticeable shake to his words, but leave it to Jake to put the best possible spin on the situation.

  “Jake, you can be a little less perfect about this.” I fell back on my bed with relief. I prepared myself for a tantrum, because that was what I would have done. But Jake was on a different level when it came to cool and calm. He was like a saint. Or Buddha.

  “I’m not gonna lie.” His voice sounded thick, like he was talking around a lump in his throat. “I’m gonna miss you so much. I was really excited about seeing a lot of you. A lot of you,” he added. His voice went husky, and my body screamed for him.

  Why? Why did the choice have to be between Paris and Jake? How evil could life be? Correction; how evil could Mom be? God, her love hurt.

  “I’ll miss you so much.” I closed my eyes and let the hot tears fill right up to my lashes and drip out the sides of my eyes. “I almost don’t want to go.”

  “Are you kidding?” he practically screamed. “You can’t ever not do something because of me, okay? I think Mom thinks that I’m going to drag you down. If you didn’t do this, she would assume I told you not to, or that you didn’t go because of me. And I want you to go as much as she does. Maybe more.”

  And I had nothing at all to say. Because Jake was dead on.

  Mom had come out and said that Jake wasn’t headed in the same direction that I was. She peppered that lecture with lots of nice compliments about Jake’s good manners, his work ethic, his good looks, his kindness, and careful driving. But the message had been that all of that didn’t make up for what he didn’t have: the right upbringing and a solid drive for education. She would use any excuse to point out how Jake was ‘holding me back.’

  I felt like Jake had so much potential, there was no box to put him in. Mom felt like people couldn’t escape their fates or what they were born to do. Mom said that I was too young to understand, that I was too idealistic. It made me feel like arguing, but what could I say? I was too young. And I guess too idealistic.

  But I didn’t want to be some hard-hearted gold-digger with a checklist and a chip on my shoulder. What was so wrong with loving someone good and kind and different? What was so wrong with believing that someone can be more than what he seems? It just wasn’t an argument I could have with my mom. We couldn’t see eye to eye on this one. And I was trying really hard not to be an average asshole teenager and take her opinion as seriously as I could.

  “It’s not so long.” Jake’s voice was calm in my ears, smoothing out all the wild thoughts clawing around and tearing at my brain. “Don’t be upset. And we get to see each other tonight, right?”

  “Yes,” I pouted.

  “What time did you say?” I heard the springs on Jake’s bed creak as he stood up.

  “Four.”

  “Three?” he repeated. “Let’s just say I misheard.”

  I smiled a tiny smile. “I love you, Jake.” I sighed. “You can get a calling card. Or I can call my cell and get international calling this month.”

  “Can you do that?” His voice bubbled with hope. I’d let him down so hard, but he was still happy with the little I offered.

  “To be able to talk to you? You know I’ll do whatever.” I wiped my cheeks dry with my fingers.

  “You’re the best. Go pack. I’ll be over before you know it, alright? I love you, Bren.”

  “I love you.” We clicked off, and I felt like a lifeline broke. Without Jake I was lost.

  I put a big smile on my face and went out to the kitchen. Mom had wrestled the huge turkey into the oven early that morning. She peeled the potatoes over the sink. I went to a drawer and took out the extra peeler, the old metal one that dug into the skin on your hands when you used it.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Mom said. She was already dressed to the nines in her red cashmere sweater, a present from Thorsten, and a black pencil skirt. She had on high black heels and the gold Virgin Mary necklace I saw her admire in Macy’s and picked up a few weeks later for her gift this Christmas. I knew she’d love it. Her light brown hair was curled, and it was already almost down to her shoulders, grown out since her last haircut. So pretty. She was just so pretty. She gave me a kiss. “You don’t need to do this. Go pack.”

  “I did!” I cringed when I realized how cheesy and bright it sounded. It sounded artificial. “I think I’m all done.”

  “I’m really glad we’re doing this.” Mom put a wet, potato-flecked hand on my arm. Her voice was getting that lecture quality to it, and I wanted to dodge it.

  “Me too.” I picked up a hot potato and popped it from one hand to the other to cool it before I gouged and scraped. I hated peeling potatoes. I hated lectures, but my forced enthusiasm made Mom too suspicious.

  “I know you and Jake probably made plans. But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. The time to travel is now and for the next few years. You have to live your life, sweetheart. You can’t do everything based around a high school relationship.” Her peeler hung idle in her fingers as she talked.

  I had to bite my lips and peel harder. If I answered, I was going to say something she’d disagree with. If I was quiet, maybe whatever deity there was would have mercy on me and make the lecture stop. But then Mom surprised me.

  Her voice got very low and a little watery. “Your biological father was a guy who seemed so perfect. Nice and kind and really smart. I felt lucky to have him around. But when it came down to it, he wasn’t the right guy for me, sweetie. Or for you. He didn’t have what it took, and if I’d been more independent, I wouldn’t have fallen apart like I did.”

  I held the cooling potato, peeled to a nub, in one hand and stayed still. Now I was hoping that the deity would ignore my former prayer and just let her continue. Who was he? Who was this dad of mine? She was so quiet I didn’t know for sure if she would continue.

  “He kept right on going, after us.” Her voice was tissue-paper soft. I could see her gray-blue eyes, dewy with tears. Her lips made a wobbly line and her soft, small hands shook a little around the brown potato skin. “And I hated him for it. I hated him so much. But in the end, I learned from him. I learned that it’s important to have your own thing, your own life. I’m not saying he was a good person. He had a lot to learn about compassion and respect and love.” Her voice was wet with sadness. “But he knew all about being selfish. It’s something we have to learn.”

  And I didn’t say, But Jake and I aren’t you and my father. And I didn’t say, This is a totally different situation. And I didn’t say, Tell me more about what happened. Because I knew that every one of those things would ruin this weird spell she was casting with her velvety soft voice. And I didn’t know how much I believed any of those thing
s or how much more I really wanted to know.

  “Because it’s hard to balance compassion and love for others with selfishness,” Mom continued. “I think, just by nature, you’ve got the loving thing down. So now I need to teach you to be selfish. And I need to see you experience a whole range of things, so you have a choice. We tend to get too comfortable too quickly, honey, and that’s no way to make any big decision.” Her eyes lightened like a soft blue sky after a summer storm. She smiled and took my potato-caked hand in hers. “Get dressed. I bet Jake will show up a little early. You two can have a nice dinner.”

  Mom kissed my cheek and I knew I had the imprint of her lipstick on my skin. I floated to the bathroom, rinsed my hands, and peered at my reflection, marked by my mother’s lips. I needed to do what my mom asked me. I needed to listen to her, no matter how much I wanted to ignore what she was saying. I needed to prove to her that I wasn’t my father; she had raised me better than that. And I had to show her that I wasn’t her from that time. I wasn’t the same teenager she had been.

  I realized that my mom was scared about this. She was afraid for me, and I had to show her that I would be fine. Jake wasn’t like my father, but the only way Mom would understand that was if I went with her and proved it. If Jake and I both proved it. We could do this. No words would change any of this. She had to see it for herself.

  Proving that I wasn’t just like my mom would be harder. How could I deny that I loved being in love with Jake? And I would probably fall apart a little without him. Wasn’t that normal? And we had been spending a lot of time together, but that was because we wanted to, not because I couldn’t hang out on my own. Wasn’t it?

  Well, at least I knew that Jake was just as loving as I was. He was not selfish. He wasn’t. I didn’t think. I didn’t really want to think about it. My mom’s lectures tended to do this to me. They took a perfectly rational, reasonable situation and turned it on its head. Was she right? Was I too comfortable?

  I pushed that all out of my head for right now. I had an afternoon with Jake to look forward to.

  And, on the bright side, it was a trip to Paris! I loved to travel, no matter how much leaving home would ache this time. It was a trip to Paris with my mom, and it would be wonderful. When I got home, I could fall right back into Jake’s arms, and Mom could be less worried and less critical.

  At least I hoped that would happen.

  Chapter Two

  I went to my room and took out my dress, a scarlet red silk with cap sleeves and a wraparound waist. I loved it, and it was kind of my first adult Christmas dress. I had black stockings with a line sewn up the back like the old-fashioned silk style and a pair of really cute black strappy heels, which were uncomfortable enough that I was glad I would only be wearing them around the house. I had just cut my bangs, so they were right above my eyebrows, where I liked them. I put on a black silk headband and put the rest of my hair into a carefully messy bun, which is deceptively hard to do. A thousand bobby pins later, and it looked really good, in a windblown way.

  I put my makeup on and a little jewelry, including the silver ‘B’ necklace Jake had gotten me for my birthday and the pearl drop earrings Mom and Thorsten picked up for me for Christmas. I also had a new watch with a wide leather cuff band. I loved watches, but hardly anyone wore them anymore. Most people my age just used their cellphones to tell the time. But I loved them no matter how old-fashioned they were, had at least a dozen, and wore them all of the time.

  The minute I finished, I heard the doorbell ring, and felt a leap of joy. When I looked down at my watch, I saw that it was only two-thirty. I knew Jake had to be more upset than he was pretending about my leaving, because he was usually really careful about respecting Mom’s timetables. Mom was already at the door, being unusually nice and kissing Jake’s cheek. I realized then that she felt a little guilty about this whole thing, too. I shook my head. How could Paris cause so much upset? Paris!

  Jake looked incredibly hot. And it actually had very little to do with my excellent taste in clothes. Jake was the kind of guy who would look hot in just about anything, since he was tall with delectably chiseled muscles and a face that set girls drooling wherever we went. But today he was wearing his gray dress pants and a black crewneck sweater. It was cashmere, which I’m sure he didn’t notice or care about, but it made me happy that he had something other than threadbare cotton or denim. His boots were new, too, a birthday gift from his ever practical father. Dress shoes weren’t part of Jake’s mindset, and I knew that buying them would just be a waste of my efforts. He was handing my mother a wrapped package.

  I hadn’t realized he would get her a gift. Part of me was shocked that he hadn’t asked for my help with it at all. I wondered what he had gotten her.

  “Oh, Jake!” she cried. It was a pair of leather gloves that were bright purple. They were almost funny, but so funny they were just plain adorable.

  “I know they’re kind of a weird color.” Jake shifted his weight from one foot to the other and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “But I just thought that if anyone could pull them off, it would be you, Mrs. Blixen.”

  Mom’s eyes glistened again. “How thoughtful. I love them.” My mother moved in for a hug.

  “And now your hands will be warm in Paris.” Jake put his arms around her in an awkward reciprocation of her offered hug.

  “Brenna told you?” Mom asked, her voice surprised.

  “She called right away. She was really excited. I am, too. I mean, for you two. It’s so great that Brenna gets to travel so much, and I know how much she’s been missing you since you two moved back to the states and you got your job and life just got crazy.” He was rambling now, but I could see Mom get emotional, and I felt the dangerous burn in my own eyes. I had to sternly remind myself of just how crazy I would look with all of my new Bad Girl mascara running down my cheeks, and the tears held back. “I hope you two have a blast.”

  Mom hugged him again, murmuring kind Christmas-y things. My heart swelled a little. I came into the foyer, and Jake looked over at me. His eyes went wide.

  “Wow.” He licked his lips quickly, like he was nervous. “Bren, you look incredible.”

  And now Mom was eating out of his hand. All you really had to do to get my mom to like you was be super complimentary to me, and Jake was a natural at that.

  “You look pretty good, yourself, Kelly.” I walked around him. He turned to see me as I circled him, like he couldn’t stand to take his eyes off of me. Oh, Jake!

  “Thank you.” He turned back to Mom. “Brenna got me some new clothes. I guess she was tired of my five tshirts.”

  “Well, if I saw that blue button-down one more time, I was going to take you shopping myself. I mean, you’re a handsome young man. Take Brenna’s advice, and you’ll have to beat the girls away.” She smiled, and I saw through her weird comments the kind of tough love that she usually restricted to me alone.

  “No worries there.” Jake was completely oblivious to my mother’s motives. “I’ve already got the best girl there is.”

  Mom just smiled. “Bren, why don’t you and Jake grab a cup of cocoa from the stove and sit by the fire? I’m almost done in here.”

  I got two mugs and hurried to the living room with Jake, thankful for Mom’s thoughtfulness despite her odd ‘date other people’ messages.

  Our fireplace was set in a big stone-covered wall that went around to the kitchen. Most of the time when you see that design, the fireplace goes through the wall, so you can access it from both rooms, but ours didn’t. We just had one big wall that was flat stone in our kitchen. Jake and I sat on the couch, and he put our mugs down and took me in his arms, our nearly silent kisses so ravenous, I was instantly turned on.

  “You’re so beautiful.” He pulled his mouth away and held my upper arms hard in his hands. “You look like Christmas.”

  I laughed and kissed him really softly and silently, since Mom and Thorsten were just around the corner. “Thanks. I got you other stuf
f. Do you want to see it?”

  “I don’t want you spending all of your money on me.” He looked really serious, his gray eyes wide and his mouth set in a line. He was so hot, it was hard to breathe steadily around him.

  “I didn’t. I mean, I made some of it. Anyway, it’s Christmas, so stop arguing about it.” I went under the tree and found some silver wrapped packages. In our crazy Christmas-centered house, each person got assigned a different colored wrapping paper. Mom was red, Thorsten was green, I got gold, and Jake got silver. Mom always went a little crazy with Christmas decorations.

  Jake laughed. “Man, your house is like a magazine.” He craned his neck and took it all in. “Christmas music, cocoa, a fire, that big-ass tree, all the dinner smells. I’m glad I get to do Christmas here.”

  I thought about this morning, how depressing it must have been for him in comparison to my morning. It made me too sad to think about it for long, so I didn’t.

  “I’m glad you’re doing your Christmas here, too.” I brought his little shiny pile over. “Open them.”

  He undid the paper so carefully it was obnoxious. A full minute into the first one, I lost my cool. “Jake! It’s just paper! We’re not saving it, so rip it open!”

  He smiled. “Fine, bossy pants.” He ripped it with exaggerated relish. “Hey, a watch!” He took it out and put it on right away. I hated when people bought gifts that were things they liked, but I thought my watch obsession had a lot of merit, so I got Jake in on it. “Thanks.” He pulled me over for a long kiss.

  I also got him a new sketch pad and really good pencils, and the rest of my English reading on CD. Jake liked to keep up with me, but his dyslexia made it impossible. I liked to be able to talk to him about the books I’m reading, so he listened along.