The Road Home Read online

  “Thank you for helping me, Gwennie. I know bathing your mother has never been at the top of your list of Exciting Things to Do Before I Die. Hell, it wasn’t even on my list of things to do before I die.”

  The comment is supposed to be funny. But dammit, Gwendolyn has to force herself to chuckle. And even then, it’s hardly Oscar worthy. “It’s really okay, Mama. I promise.”

  “Oh, honey. It’s been a minute since you’ve called me that.”

  “Mama?”

  She sighs, releases a small hmph and says, “Yeah.” She leans forward, and Gwendolyn washes her back. Her spine is so pronounced, and regardless of the extra weight, her ribs still show. “I think the last time was right before I found out you were…” Her sentence seems to stall, but it sputters back to life as she finishes with, “A lesbian.”

  Gwendolyn pauses in her gentle scrubbing. She isn’t sure how to respond or if she even needs to.

  “That was a difficult time, wasn’t it?”

  “Understatement of the year.”

  Her mom lets out a small, wheezy sound. “Well said.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you really tell Dad to let me deal with all of this?” After she asks, her mom laughs. Not a nice little chuckle but a full body laugh. And as much as Gwendolyn wants to know what’s so fucking funny, it’s still really nice to hear. She lets it play out before she drops a deadpan comment. “I’m not laughing.”

  “Oh, Gwen,” her mom says as she continues to chuckle.

  Gwendolyn stands at the end of the tub and slides her arms under her mom’s armpits. She helps her stand, which is really her doing most of the work, but thankfully, she had the occupational therapist teach her a thing or two during the home health visits. She wraps a towel around her, and her mom dries off quickly, then slips into the robe Gwendolyn holds for her. She’s breathing heavily, and Gwendolyn holds up the oxygen cannula for the portable tank. “Here you go.” Her mom fits it into her nostrils and around her ears.

  “Thank you, my love.” She smiles as she sits on the padded bench at the makeup table in the bathroom. She looks at herself in the mirror and sighs. “I used to be so pretty.”

  Gwendolyn hears the sadness. “You are still gorgeous. Always will be.” She places a dollop of face cream in her mom’s hand and motions for her to rub it in.

  “You think I need to be mindful of wrinkles while I’m standing on death’s doorstep?”

  “Mom.” Gwendolyn rolls her eyes. “I need you to stop trying to be funny.”

  She waves her hand before she smooths the cream over her face, forehead, and over her bare scalp. Hair has finally started to come back, but it’s in patches. “The volleyball game tonight…”

  “You never stop, do you?”

  “Not until I’m dead.”

  “Mom!”

  She laughs again. Another hearty laugh. She sounds so much healthier now than she did two weeks ago. The change is nice, but Dr. Wynn warned about how quickly she’s going to decline. “Okay, okay.” Her mom inhales deeply twice before she says, “I want you on that bench with Lila.”

  “I don’t want—”

  “I don’t give a good goddamn what you want.” Her mom blinks once, twice, three times, before she raises her hand. “I need you on that bench. I need you to be there for her.”

  “You need me to be there for her?” She chuckles. “Do you have any idea how fucked up that sounds?”

  “Do you know how weird it is to hear you curse like that?” She smiles, shakes her head, and places her raised hand on Gwendolyn’s cheek. “When you left, you were a child and now…” The tears welling in her eyes are hard to miss. “Lila is part of me as much as you are. I know you don’t like hearing that.”

  “Not necessarily.” She hasn’t even tried to process anything concerning Lila. In fact, if anyone has been lying these days, it’s Gwendolyn because she’s hiding her emotions expertly. She hasn’t let herself be upset with Lila yet. She’s too wrapped up in her mom’s health, being her caregiver, trying to not murder her father. She realizes she needs to get past it or confront it, but she also excels at running from anything which might cause discomfort. And this will definitely cause discomfort. A lot of it. Because Gwendolyn isn’t mad at Lila. She’s not mad at all. She’s disappointed. She’s sad. She’s heartbroken. How can they have shared so much, but Lila could still look her in the eye and lie? Point blank. Right to her face. The whole idea causes Gwendolyn’s skin to crawl. She has grown to care so much for Lila. She was on the verge of telling her that she loves her. And then this happens.

  “I can see how close you two have gotten.” Her mom rubs her thumb over Gwendolyn’s cheek. Her hands are so soft. Not working or hitting a volleyball for the past two months has done wonders for the callouses. “You are allowed to love her. Okay?”

  “Please stop.”

  “You are, though. And I’m okay with it.”

  “Love her how? Do you even know what you’re saying?”

  Her mom smiles and pulls away. She pushes the cannula closer to her nose and inhales deeply, her eyes closed. “I do. I know.” She opens her eyes. “You two will have each other when I’m no longer here. Remember that.”

  Gwendolyn sits on the toilet seat. The statement slammed the air out of her lungs.

  “Help me get dressed. I need to rest before the game. Home opener is very important.” Her hand is out, and it takes a second for Gwendolyn to spur herself to move. She stands and firmly wraps her hand around her mom’s bicep as she helps her up. She needs to talk to Lila. Her mom is right. But Gwendolyn doesn’t want to forgive because forgiving means forgetting, and she can’t forget. Not now, maybe not ever. But especially not yet.

  * * *

  Lila reaches up with a heavy hand and flushes the toilet in the locker room. She takes a few breaths before she stands. She hadn’t planned on emptying the contents of her stomach, but she couldn’t fight off the wave of nervous nausea. Thankfully, she made it in time. She almost didn’t.

  Her legs feel wobbly as she unlocks the stall door and pulls it open. She is instantly embarrassed when she sees Gwendolyn standing at the sinks. Her left leg crossed over her right, a black Lemurs Volleyball polo on with khaki shorts. She looks exactly how she needs to look to sit on the bench during the game. And until this very moment, Lila wasn’t sure she was going to show up. She’s so thankful she has, though.

  “You came.” Lila doesn’t mean to sound so relieved, but her voice betrays her.

  “I did.” Gwendolyn smiles. Not her normal smile, which causes Lila’s heart to falter. Something has been off with Gwendolyn for the past two weeks, and for the life of her, she cannot put her finger on it. Every time she visited Carol, Gwendolyn seemed reserved, in her own world, almost angry. Lila chalked it up to Gwendolyn being upset about Carol’s declining health. It had to be that. And it was selfish of Lila to assume any differently.

  But there was still a voice inside her head telling her Gwendolyn was being strange.

  “Are you okay?” Gwendolyn takes a few steps to a paper towel dispenser and pulls a couple sheets out. “You look…not okay.”

  Lila bends her head to the sink and cups water into her mouth. She swishes, tries to get the vomit taste off of her tongue, but it’s not working. She wipes her mouth on the paper towels and looks at Gwendolyn’s reflection. “I am okay.” She continues watching Gwendolyn not look at her. Watches her spine stiffen. Watches her pull her shoulders back as she pushes off the countertop. “Are you?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Gwendolyn folds her arms. She clears her throat. “I’m good.”

  “Will you please tell me what’s been going on?” She turns to face Gwendolyn, who takes a step back. The movement is unsettling. “What happened?”

  “Why do you think something happened?” Her face softens, but it’s fleeting before the stoic hardness is back. “I’m nervo
us. We have a game to coach.” She is so not telling the truth, and Lila can see it as plain as day. “Mom’s here.” She takes a couple steps toward the exit. “She wanted me to come check on you.”

  “Okay.” Lila doesn’t have the energy to push. Not after barely sleeping, barely eating, and barely making it to the toilet in time. She watches Gwendolyn leave, and she feels the impending doom. She hopes she can shake this off to at least coach this fucking game. She needs to get her act together. She cannot be a hot mess out there. She turns and looks at her reflection. “You got this, Machowicz. You can do this.”

  And for the briefest of moments, she believes it.

  The referees are so happy to see Carol. Their reaction is comforting in a strange way. Lila is more than aware of what’s happening with Carol’s health. She doesn’t need a medical degree to understand Carol’s pale complexion and frail appearance. And she’s wearing a sweatshirt in the dead of summer, in a gym that will heat up as soon as the junior varsity game is finished.

  Lila’s nervous about the girls’ reaction, but once the first few varsity girls trickle into the gym, her nerves dissipate. Not a lot, but enough so she can smile and not have it be forced. They are all thrilled, especially Miranda and Ella, and their reaction helps calm Lila down. Carol being there is a good thing because for the time being, Lila is all but forgotten, which doesn’t upset her in the slightest. She needs to have the spotlight on someone else while she figures out how to breathe again.

  Gwendolyn is standing on the sideline, her arms crossed. She’s clearly thinking about something, and Lila wishes she would confide in her. The thought has crossed her mind more than once that maybe Gwendolyn knows the truth. The thought turns her stomach, and she tries to push it out of her mind as soon as it enters. If that is really what is going on, she hopes that Gwendolyn will at least confront her. Rip her a new one. Be mad if she needs to. But hopefully, she will move on and let it go.

  Is it something you would let go?

  Lila sighs as she pulls her stare away. She grabs her clipboard and scribbles the lineup. This is a big game for numerous reasons, but the first of which is, everyone knows it’s a rebuilding year for the Lemurs. They’re young, with only two seniors. Carol has said more than once how difficult rebuilding years can be. She has had more than her fair share throughout her coaching career. But Lila feels confident that this year will be different. The girls want it. They do not want to disappoint Carol.

  And neither does Lila.

  Miranda moves around to the back of Carol’s wheelchair and pushes her toward the court. Miranda and Ella are smiling, but Lila can tell that if one of them lets a tear escape, they’re both going down in a blaze of tearstained glory. Miranda stops the wheelchair at the end of the court and moves in front of Carol. Gwendolyn seems as intrigued as Lila.

  Lila walks over to her. “What do you think is going on over there?”

  Gwendolyn doesn’t make eye contact. “I don’t know, but if she makes these girls cry before this game, I’m going to have some strong words for her.”

  Lila smiles and lets out a breathy laugh. “She’s going to make them cry. Joleen is already a mess.”

  “Jesus.” Gwendolyn’s expression seems irritated, but her tone is nothing of the sort. A somewhat easy silence falls between them as they both observe the huddle with Carol in the middle. Gwendolyn nudges her. “May I say something this time?”

  Relief floods Lila’s body. “Of course.”

  “You’re a very good coach. These girls really love you.”

  Hmm. That isn’t at all what Lila thought Gwendolyn was going to say, and truth be told, the compliment sounds forced, as if Gwendolyn wanted to say something different but chickened out the second before she spoke. Lila doesn’t respond because Gwendolyn takes a breath. Their eyes lock for one second, two, before she looks away.

  “Can you please not fall apart on them today?” Gwendolyn asks.

  Lila sucks a breath and clamps her lips together. Gwendolyn has no idea how to coach the girls. She’s only been around for two months. Sure, she was good with them a couple times, but long term? They’d eat her alive. Lila has been around some of them for eight years if she counts travel club volleyball, and she definitely does. She’s seen them go from underhand serving to jump serving. She’s witnessed Miranda’s vertical increase by ten inches from one season to another. She’s seen Ella bench press the bar without any weight to now pressing one hundred and fifty pounds, barely breaking a sweat. She’s ran blocking drills with Hildy until she thought she herself would pass out. She’s taught Courtney everything she knows about setting, about hitting, about spiking left-handed while up at the net. She’s broken down every single step of the attack approach with Rylee and gone over it with her at least a thousand times. She’s served a million balls at Stacey, teaching her how to move her feet, stay low, dig, roll, everything. And Joleen. The hours she’s spent setting the ball back and forth with Joleen is astronomical. She knows these girls, knows their families, and loves them as if they were her own.

  “I realize you’ve been coaching some of them since they were old enough to pick up a ball.”

  What the hell? Is she reading my mind? “Yep.”

  “Tonight, you can’t give up on them. I want you to show this administration that you deserve this coaching position because we all know you’re not a shoo-in until they actually give you the job.”

  “What are you saying?” Lila’s heart is beating so hard.

  “You know what I’m saying.”

  “No, I don’t, Gwendolyn. What are you saying to me?” She stares, looking directly into those deep eyes which have captivated her since the very first moment their eyes locked.

  “I’m saying…” Gwendolyn nibbles on her bottom lip. “Listen. Can you please promise me you won’t give up on them tonight? I swear I’ll talk to you after the game. But for now? I want to get through this game. Okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay.” Lila shakes her head. “You’re not telling me something.”

  “Lila—”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t give up on them. I have never given up on them. I will never.” She goes to walk away, but something compels her to stop. She makes sure Gwendolyn is looking before she speaks again. “You being like this?” She motions to her stance, her face, everything. “Feels an awful lot like you giving up on me. And it’s not helping. So either talk to me after the game, or don’t fucking bother talking to me again. You hear me?”

  The words seem to shock Gwendolyn, who doesn’t respond with anything but a simple nod. Lila rolls her eyes. A nod? Seriously? Whatever. She heads to the bench as she tries to shake off the confrontation. If she lets Gwendolyn get too far under her skin, she won’t be worth anything as the head coach. The other varsity team is waiting to take the court for warm-ups, so she runs to her team’s huddle and squeezes in. She looks at all of them and Carol. “What the hell, Coach? They’re all crying.”

  Carol laughs. “I didn’t tell them to cry.”

  “Yeah, well, they are.” She chuckles as she shakes her head. “Okay, ladies, let’s do the pepper line. Grab a ball, Courtney.” The girls disperse, and she moves Carol over to the wall where they will line up to pepper. “What’d you say to them?”

  “I told them how much they all mean to me. And how I’ll never forget them.” Carol sighs. “And I told them to go easy on you. Of course.”

  Lila gasps. “You’re joking? Go easy on me?”

  Carol shrugs, smiles, and waves her frail hand in the air. “Go. Pepper. Time’s a wastin’.”

  Lila does as she’s told. She tosses the ball in the air, smacks it, and snaps her wrist as she hits it at the first person in the line. She lets out a laugh as the ball is dug expertly back to her. “Go easy on me. Pfft.”

  * * *

  “Congratulations.” Gwendolyn offers a small smile as she joins Lila on the outside porch swing. The late August air has the right amount of warmth and humidity. The match was a comple
te success. In fact, the girls won decisively in three sets, 25-17, 25-16, and 25-11. After the match, Lila helped transport her mom, which was awkward but also appreciated.

  Gwendolyn is on edge. She needs to have the dreaded discussion; she is fully aware of the necessity. But she’s also so ready to be done with and over the heartache that she wonders if she can only hold it in, maybe she can move past it.

  She can’t. She isn’t that person.

  But oh, how she wishes she could be.

  “It wouldn’t have been possible without you. You really get the game.” Lila is obviously avoiding the discussion as much as she is.

  “Thirty-three years of something sort of makes you an expert, I suppose.”

  “Expert, hmm?” Lila smiles. The look makes Gwendolyn’s throat ache. She hates being upset with Lila. She hates it so much. “I’m sure I could use an assistant coach. Maybe you should consider sticking around, y’know…after…” Lila pauses, her voice seemingly caught in her throat. The look of fear and regret on her face is almost enough to soften Gwendolyn’s resolve.

  “Yeah, I heard it.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Gwen—”

  “How long have you known she wasn’t going to survive?” Gwendolyn watches her digest the question. If it was actually food, she would have spit it out, for clearly, the taste is awful. “You’ve known for a long time.”

  Lila licks her lips. “I have known since the beginning.” Her voice is barely audible over the sounds of the crickets’ chirp, the air conditioning whir, the swing’s creak.

  “And what about my dad?”

  “What about—”

  “Stop.” She waves off Lila’s piss-poor attempt at yet another lie. “You’ve known for the whole time.”

  “I have.”

  “And why didn’t you tell me?” She closes her eyes. “The times I complained about him, when I confided in you about seeing him, about confronting him, everything…there wasn’t a moment when you thought, ‘Hmm, maybe I should tell Gwendolyn the truth’? Or are you too selfish? Because you knew how the truth might affect you?” She stares and hopes her eyes are as icy as she’s feeling. “This is my family. You hear me?”