read old college textbooks I found. I sat behind the bench with Annabelle huddled under a flannel blanket during home games and yelled the only cheer I knew. "Are you Ready? Hell yes! Damn right! Hotty toddy gosh almighty, who in the hell are we!?! Flim flam, bim bam OLE MISS BY DAMN!!!!"
By sixth grade my mother divorced again, and we went back to our old apartment. My ex-step father still lived in our old townhouse so I felt uncomfortable going to visit my friends from the neighborhood. This time everything in the apartment was temporary. We borrowed furniture and didn't even bother to unpack some boxes. We were on the other side of the building now and had a balcony that looked out onto the small patch of grass in front of the complex. I wasn't allowed out on it because the railing was loose and my mother didn't want to bother getting it fixed because she said we wouldn't be staying long.
When I got back from summer with Dad, Mom had already found a new town house. The entire subdivision was gated and nestled into a wooded area that had a lake behind it and a bayou that ran near the gates and into the lake. It was smaller than the first. We had a tiny kitchen with a breakfast bar where Mom put two stools. We didn't need a dining table since we were never home together for meals. Our bedrooms were upstairs and we each had a small room with a sink and a mirror that opened into a shared bathroom. Mornings, Mom and I usually spent fighting over the bathroom or tight lipped and avoiding each other.
There was a boy at the end of my street who was a year younger than me. We made fast friends and snuck out at night to walk around and around the subdivision, or into the woods, or into the empty house next door. We talked sometimes until dawn and then snuck back into our beds before our mothers woke up.
Dad moved to Florida where I spent the summer before high school. He was coaching for high school again. On my first visit Dad was staying in a friend's winter condo. It was slick with glass and mirrors, gray carpet and white tile. A balcony that stretched across the living room and bedroom opened out onto the ocean. Dad let me sleep in the bedroom while he slept in the tiny guest room near the front door. I wanted to hear the waves crash while I lay in bed, and Dad said he was already tired of the constant sound.
I had grown up since the last time I had seen him, and he wouldn't allow me to come to the high school and visit. I was allowed to go to the private beach and out with him when he came home from school. I couldn't meet any of his students or the football players because they were all "punks" or "wild girls."
The next time I came to visit, Dad was staying in a hotel before he moved into his own apartment. He gave up most of the room to me and kept his stuff in the coaches' office at the school. I felt a little glamorous having the room cleaned every day, lounging at the pool, eating alone at the restaurant. There was a mint and a rose every night left on the pillow.
It was spring break for me, but Dad was still in school. He was overseeing a fashion show for the senior class as their sponsor. I couldn't come to rehearsals, but the night of the production Dad took me to watch. I went to the spa in the hotel and got a makeover and bought a dress in one of the shops. When Dad came home to get me, he asked if I couldn't wear something else and could I wash my face. I told him all I brought were shorts and t-shirts, but I washed my face to make him happy.
When I got back home, Mom informed me almost giddily that my friend at the end of the street was moving and that we were too. He was moving a bit farther, to New Jersey, than we were, two streets over.
We snuck out and walked silently up and down the streets. We snuck into the house next door and hugged and made promises to call and write. He gave me my first kiss, and we snuck back to our beds before our mothers got up.
It was odd, shifting all of our belongings from one place in one house, into the exact same place in the exact same house two streets over. We were buying this house, the other was rented, and Mom started to change things bit by bit. One day a lamp was replaced. Another day the walls were a different color; wall units replaced the hall tree. The new things could not be lounged on or scratched. The soaps and towels were not to be used.
Mom went back to school to get her Masters and joined clubs. I stayed away from the house as much as I could. I hated the loneliness and the sterility. I went to visit friends or boyfriends. Sometimes I stayed the night. Sometimes I called. Sometimes I didn't. Mom threatened sometimes to send me to live with Dad. But, he had roommates now. I hadn't been to visit since my freshman year of high school. I had summer jobs to fill the time and to make money to pay for gas to get away.
After graduation, there was no reason to stay. My room would become Mom's office, which was currently located in the tiny front entryway we seldom used. I didn't have an idea of where I would go. I slept on friends' couches or at boyfriends' houses. I got a job earning enough to live on and to save.
I found a place in the middle of town for $250. It was a small garage apartment behind a duplex. A narrow enclosed staircase led to my front door. One whole side of the apartment was all windows, thick glass with pulleys. I had a mantle over a gas heater, a small bedroom with a futon and a dresser. My tiny bathroom had a claw foot tub and a pedestal sink. There was a small alcove with a table and two folding chairs. My kitchen opened out to a porch surrounded by trees. I built bookshelves for every available wall space and strung Christmas lights around the living room.
I woke up one night from a dream, and got up to fix myself a drink.