The Hurt Patrol (6 page)

Gina came into the living room. Her eyes were enormous. She stood there staring at both of them.

Beau had frozen. He could tell by his mom's face and his dad's weird tragic triumph that it was true.

“Unbelievable, Jason . . .” she whispered in revulsion. “Beau, I don't have a ‘boyfriend' . . . whatever! But I am in touch with my
friend
Matt from high school.” She stared at him, ignoring Jason. “That is what Facebook is for. And yes, Matt
was
a boyfriend, but your dad, Mr. 411, here, is also in touch with a lot of his old friends, some of whom are old girlfriends. Somehow, though,
that's
okay.”

“It's different because I never even talk to them.”

“Well, that sounds pointless, Jason! Maybe you should. It's great to vent to friends.”

“Oh, is
that
what you call it?”

“Mom . . .” Beau hadn't moved. He couldn't breathe—couldn't inhale.

Gina glared at him. Defiantly.

“Is it true?” He stared at her, willing it not to be. He felt like he was drowning.

“Ask me a question, Beau. I have no idea what exactly you'd like me to clarify.”

“Yes, you do! Are you cheating on Dad?”

His mom stared him down—straight into his eyes. “No.”

“Are you Facebooking with your old boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“
Mom!
” Beau felt slapped. Or gut-punched. “It's the same thing!”

“Oh, for god's sake, Beau.” She almost laughed. “And about three hundred other people too!”

“Whatever, Mom!”

This dynamic was new: Beau, mad at his mom—on the same side as his dad. Jason wheezed with delight. “Yeah! Go get 'er, kid!”

But Beau didn't need to be spurred. “Is that what you do when you go and close the door and type? You're bitching to someone on Facebook? Some
dude?
Mom!”

“Yeah, right?!” Jason sniggered, inciting a riot. “Hee! Hee!”

Then Gina got really mad: “So, let me get this straight;
I
don't get to be on Facebook, or anywhere, with friends?” She stared at Beau, continuing to ignore Jason. “
I
never get to be myself, or relax? But
you
do! And your dad here, he pretty much does what
ever
he wants, so this just applies to me?” Beau could see his mom was sincerely pissed. It checked his own anger.

Beau started to reply, but suddenly Gina snapped and started yelling. “SORRY—are we suddenly in Saudi Arabia?!” she screeched, as she looked from one to the other, “or did a big old twister blow us to the Middle Ages, and I missed it? Because, if that didn't happen, I won't be needing a burka anytime soon. Sorry about that, GUYS. And I want you both to listen to me here: I WILL have FRIENDS . . . !”

“Oh! OH!
Friends!
THAT'S a good name for it!” Jason shouted. He glanced at Beau.

“YEAH!” yelled Beau. But it made him feel pukey.

“Maybe
YOU
could move to the Middle Ages and FINALLY be happy, Jason!” Gina shrieked.

“Maybe I should! At least the damn women over there won't CHEAT on me!”

“Oh, my GOD! Jason! What a NUTCASE! ! You should listen to yourself! Plus you are LYING! So totally unfair—and you sound CRAZED!”

“Better than A CHEATER!” Jason screamed so loud his voice cracked. Gina turned her red face away from his red eyes and glanced at Beau, who was pale and staring at her intently.

“Mom?” His dark blue eyes were unblinking. His voice was very quiet. “Is it true?” he asked, again. He was getting his universe rocked. Not in the good way.

She looked at him steadily. “No, Beau. But I want things to change . . . soon. After that, I don't know.”

Jason howled, as if in pain. “See?! So you are planning to cheat on me! That's exactly the same!”

“I'm not planning to cheat . . . I'm planning to separate.” Gina's voice was super quiet and clear.

The second she said those words, everything got extremely quiet. Beau could suddenly hear his heartbeat in the calm. Really loud, right in his ear. It made his head throb.

Jason turned and stood there looking frantic for a second. Then he threw his glass against the wall. Gina and Beau expertly shielded themselves. It was heavy and didn't shatter because Gina had learned about breakage over the years. Next Jason went into his standard combat mode—grabbed some clothes and stuff and headed for the pickup—as Gina followed him to the door and out on the porch.

“We could never solve anything; you always bailed!” Gina hollered, using the past tense tellingly, as he strode away. But Jason was already in the truck and slamming the door. He started the engine with a roar. Gravel spattered as he gunned it. She chased him but he whipped away. “You wouldn't
talk
”—she dashed behind him, down the rocky path he drove—“and we couldn't get well!”

She stopped then and stood still, looking down that road, as the crunching grew quieter, till she stood deserted in the deafening silence that he always left. Beau had been watching through the window. He came out and sat down on the porch steps.

She turned back, then, and walked tiredly toward the house. Dust had settled in tear trails on her face. She climbed up and sat on the steps beside Beau. He didn't move away when she sat down. They regarded the sky wordlessly, as they sat in the starlight, wishing.

Silently, they watched the moon rise. It was gibbous, waxing. Mars was in opposition.

“Things are going to change” is all she finally said.

The crazy thing was everything
did
change. Everything. Jason decided he wanted his family back.

It wasn't that he'd had some game-changing epiphany and was now like the World's Best Dad, but when he came over, he was sober and in a good space and so glad to see Beau that Beau began to wonder if maybe they had all been a little too hasty. The bad stuff did start to seem like kind of a dream.

Beau's mom was the only one who didn't get all excited when Jason came over in a good mood. She was pleasant and very pleased to see him playing catch with Beau and doing dad things, but even Beau could see that if Jason was there trying to win Gina back, he was wasting his time.

His dad actually did stay moved-out this time. He rented a smaller house not far away. In the old house, it was just Beau and Gina. They stayed put so Jason could visit anytime.

Now it was pretty much weird, his dad being all nice and his mom being distant. Just bizarre. It really pissed Beau off.

He started glaring at his mom. His dad was trying super hard to be good, and she was totally ignoring it! He liked his dad coming over, just to see
him,
to see what he was up to. But his mom wasn't even trying. All Beau knew was wrong and bad, and it wasn't the way he wanted it or the way it should be. His mom had stopped caring. Dammit, where was her common decency?

Beau
liked
this new dynamic with his dad. It mended something inside him, which had been unconsciously crumbling for a while. When he confronted his mom about it, she looked at him levelly.

“No, sweetheart . . . he can't move back in.” Gina answered him gently, but firmly. “I have felt so much better, even with all the new money worries; no way can I go back to the anger and craziness that we slogged through every day. I'm sorry, baby . . . I can't. I feel like I've just gotten over the flu.”

Beau persisted, in his new perma-pissed-off mode.

“Can't—or
won't?!
” He said it like “gotcha!”

“Okay:
won't
.” She stared back at him, refusing to be shamed. “I wanted you to get to be a teenager before it all fell apart, so you could know your dad, but this whole thing was just a matter of time. Your dad is too mad, and he tries to numb it by drinking, and I am too sick of it to try anymore. All I know is every time I've said okay to one more try, and he comes back, it changes right back to the way it was. You were just too young to understand, before.”

“I
totally
understand! You aren't interested anymore, because of this . . .
guy!
”

“Wrong! I reconnected with Matt in 2008, when I first got on Facebook! It's not like I just found him and am frantically running off leaving a happy marriage!” She groaned in frustration. “You know, Beau, there is so much I can't tell you without being
such
a crappy mom. Could you just trust me that I know what I'm doing? Haven't we always been pretty okay, you and me?”

“Mom! You are changing up everything! Omg! I don't even know what to SAY to you anymore!”

“Quit yelling, Beau. I'm tired of being yelled at.”

“Well, maybe you should listen to what I'm saying, then! I'm sorry you feel like you need something different, but this is the way it is! Welcome to Society!”

“Jesus, Beau, you sound like some crazy person from the Middle Ages! Divorce sucks, but there it is. And at this time, it seems like the only option.”

Beau gasped. He felt kicked. He actually got dizzy.

But Gina wasn't done. “Furthermore, I think I
will
go visit Matt after I'm free. He has been a good friend.”

“Oh, I bet,” Beau snarled as soon as he could take a deep breath. “He's been a real pal!”

Gina looked at him sorrowfully. She shook her head. But she remained resolute.

“I'm sorry, baby. I hope your life goes so well that you never have to understand what I'm saying. Sometimes grown-ups get lost. Then you have to try to get your life back on track when you find yourself miserable, day after day . . . for your own sake and the ones who love you. You just can't fake it your entire life.”

He stared up into his mom's drawn face—and then ran out of the house.

He ran to his bike and raced away. He headed to Pete and Jewels. His mom stood in the window and watched him whip past. He could feel her wretchedness as he rode by.

And of course it started to rain, to increase the gloomy awfulness of it all. Twenty minutes later, speedily cycling, but now resembling a very wet and furious rat, Beau pulled up hard, braking abruptly into Pete's driveway. He threw down his bike and went around to the basement entrance that the younger generation used almost exclusively.

Pete was playing some new complicated game, with headsets on, planted in front of the TV screen. Jewels was on the old desktop computer, scrolling along her feed on Facebook. They looked up with gladness and relief. They were sooooo bored.

“I'm going to be coming from a broken home now, so there's that!” Beau announced, dramatically, as he fell on the couch beside Pete. It felt great to have a fresh and sympathetic audience.

They both stared at him, without a word. But he had their attention. And that was enough.

School was no better. It was fine in homeroom with Jewels and Rae Anne, and as long as Pete was there the halls were safe, but sometimes you had to get to the other buildings on the campus, and that was as random and dangerous as ever. The assholes of Garfield, always in a bunch, were as unmemorable individually, as all the bullies from other schools were in his memory—faceless and interchangeable. Though it was far less frequent than it had been in other schools without Pete, it was not unusual for Beau to get his backpack shoved off his shoulder and thrown downstairs, or his books scattered across the wet ground. After his laptop “accidentally” got knocked on the floor Beau knew better than to bring electronics, except for his cell phone. Fewer people had a smart phone at the time, so there was that, at least.