What About Me?

By Barbara Baker

Sequel to Summer of Lies. Jillian has to start grade 10 a month after the semester begins in a new school where everyone knows everyone’s business. And it totally sucks. She loves her Opa but moving from Toronto to Banff to help Aunt Steph take care of him was not Jillian’s idea. As she navigates unfamiliar hallways, bear attacks and strangers she makes choices which impact relationships and a potential boyfriend. Will the last choice Jillian makes be the right one?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Sep 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9780228622802

Barbara Baker

I was raised in the Catholic faith. I grew up with three brothers and a sister in a home directly across the street from St. Patrick's church and school in Fort Wayne, IN. We went to mass every morning before school, on Sundays and every day of obligation. We prayed before every meal, we went to confession, and we were educated in religion. Although this may appear to be strict, we were all about a year apart so we had the sibling rivalry, arguments, and battles between us. We were not perfect by any means but having this structure and knowing that God was watching, every one of us was willing to help those in need if asked. It gave us a good feeling. As the circle of life continued, our great grandparents and grandparents passed. We attended their funerals and continued on with our lives "knowing" that they went to heaven. Our children were being raised in the same faith. Looking back, I believe that we were doing it as more of a "ritual" than a full dedication to God. Our father passed in 2008. Although it was very sad it was not unexpected as he was ill. All of the family had moved to Florida in 1982, with the exception of my two older brothers, Bob and Bill. Even though we were 1000 miles apart, we spoke often and usually were together during the holidays. Bill would like to surprise us and knock on our door unannounced as that was him. The fun guy. The outgoing, life of the party, anything for a laugh kind of guy. This got him into trouble while he was younger, but you had to laugh because you didn't know what he was going to do next. In January of 2012, Bill was diagnosed with throat cancer. The doctors said it was a 98% cure rate with chemotherapy. Five months later, the cancer was gone. The following year in June of 2013 it had returned. This time with a vengeance. It had spread throughout his body. We were shocked! This wasn't supposed to happen! He just turned 53. The next several months were draining. He stayed down here in Florida with all of us. As his body slowly started to deteriorate we continued to pray. I prayed harder than I ever had. This was no ritual, I desperately wanted to keep my brother here. I read scripture to him on many occasions as it brought him peace. Somehow, he knew it was his time to go. He sat down with mom and told her he was not afraid, he knew where he was going and he was more concerned about her. He always cared about others. It would sadden him so much watching the fundraisers on the starving children in Ethiopia that he sent them money. He fed many homeless people off the street. He could spot them a mile away. He was in a restaurant one day and he saw one quite a ways away sitting under a bridge. He ordered two meals, one to go. When the waitress brought them, he immediately delivered the one to go to the homeless person before coming back and finishing his. He stated before he died "my biggest regret is that I never really accomplished anything". As his palliative care continued, I continued to read scripture to him which I could see had such a calming effect in his eyes which at times looked full of fear. Heaven received another angel on February 16, 2014 as our Lord took Bill home. The months we all spent together in his last days were over. Shock, anger, sadness, all took over at once, or so it seems. Really, God? Mom had to see this? I spent days on end staring at the ceiling after the funeral. Now what? He can't be gone. Anxiety set in, I was full of fear. Afraid of the future. I focused on Jesus asking for peace, after what seemed like eternity, I was calm. After many episodes, the results of peace came almost immediately.

Book preview

What About Me?

Sequel to Summer of Lies

Barbara Baker

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 978-0-2286-2280-2

Kindle 978-0-2286-2281-9

Web 978-0-2286-2282-6

Print ISBNs

Amazon Print 978-0-2286-2283-3

LSI Print 978-0-2286-2284-0

BWL Print 978-0-2286-2285-7

Copyright 2022 by Barbara Baker

Cover art by Pandora Designs

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

Dedication

Andrea, Evelyn, Lisa, Lyndi

Thanks for all the love and support.

Chapter 1

It’s midnight here in Banff which makes it two AM in Toronto. Way too late to text friends. Figures. Nothing in my life has been working out these days.

I kick off the blankets and stare at the darkness of my new bedroom in Opa and Aunt Steph’s house. Maybe someone’s awake. I could use company. The cold floor squeaks as I tiptoe down the hallway and see a light shining at the bottom of the stairs.

Opa, in his plaid flannel pj’s, hunches over the kitchen table. Four squished beer cans sit in front of him and a whole bunch of pill bottles. What the hell?

Opa, I whisper. What are you doing?

He jerks straight in the chair and his hand knocks over the cans as he scoops the pill containers close to his chest.

I grab a cloth and wipe the stinky spill. What’s going on?

Nothing, Jillian. Nothing at all.

His shoulders sag. I move closer and give him an awkward side-hug. He stiffens.

Are you sick?

He shakes his head.

Then what? I wave my hand over the containers. What are all these?

They belonged to your Oma. I’m supposed to take them to the drug store to get rid of them. Opa picks up a container, studies the label, sets it down, takes another. Heart medicine. Arthritis pills. And the oxy. The almost full vial rattles as he shakes it. They helped with the pain. She was in a lot of pain. All the time.

Wow. Oxy. Those are solid drugs. I look Opa in the eyes. He stares right back. Did he take one? How would I tell?

His lips quiver.

Steph wants to clean out Oma’s closet. I still go in and smell her blouses like she just took them off. I can’t get rid of her things yet.

Oh, Opa. My tears start even though I blink super fast. It’ll get better, I blubber. You’ll see.

How can I make him happy?

We sit there as the cuckoo tick tocks. Snot drips over my top lip and I wipe it away. Ugly crying. When does being sad get easier? It’s been five weeks since Oma died, and it hurts more each day.

And her dying kicked the crap out of my life. Sorry, Oma. No offense but it really did.

Mom’s at her new job in Germany trying to impress the boss with her worldliness and I’m stuck here to help Aunt Steph take care of Opa. I try not to make this about me because I feel awful for him. I do. And I miss Oma a lot, but getting flown three thousand miles from home a month after I start grade ten because Mom’s selfish, and Opa’s sad, just doesn’t seem fair.

And what about my dad? It still feels bizarre to call him Dad since I only found him a few months ago. I sent him a text when Oma died. He called and left a message. Said he was sorry.

Sorry? That’s it?

I never called him back. It doesn’t matter though. He’s probably too busy being important in Denver. Guess I should be grateful he’s still coming with his family next year to meet me. It took me forever to find him and he’s in no rush to see me.

What’s that about?

Apparently, his wife and two daughters need time to adjust to the fact I exist. Like finding out about him and him not knowing I exist didn’t need adjusting too?

Why is the world always about someone else?

It’s only been three days, but I miss home, I miss my friends and I miss my normal life.

Guilt creeps in for having selfish all-about-me thoughts.

Enough. Stop the whining and crying. My eyes will look gross tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be great on my first day at a new school? Besides, none of this brings Oma back. She’ll stay in her box on the living room bookshelf until Opa’s ready to bury her or scatter her ashes. Steph put Oma’s picture on the front of the box, so Opa remembers she’s inside. Like that’s not morbid at all.

Opa hiccups and swipes at his eyes. I pick up the beer cans and put them in the back porch.

Come on, let’s get you to bed. I tap his chair.

I’m not an invalid.

I know you’re not. I’m just trying to help. Let me.

He grabs all the pill bottles, but they slip out of his hands and roll across the table.

You know what, I’ll put them away. Come on. I tuck a hand under his arm, he pushes his chair back, gets up and we make our way to his room. Good night. I’ll see you for breakfast. A quick kiss on his whiskery cheek and I go to leave.

If I wake up dead, don’t you be sad. Promise me.

I freeze in my steps, take a breath and turn to face him. Opa, please don’t say stuff like that.

I mean it.

I know you do. That’s why it scares me. I love you. And I don’t want you to die too.

He waves both hands at me. Get out of here.

I nod and leave.

You’re a good kid, he calls out before I close his door.

Thanks.

I go upstairs and stand outside Steph’s bedroom door. What will she do if I walk into her room in the middle of the night? Whenever we’re together, she flips from being a drill sergeant to acting like I’m a new acquaintance and she’s on her best behaviour to impress me. Neither one is working.

Guess I should cut her some slack. It’s not like she planned on having to step up to play Mom … ever. Yeah, the huge family secret I fell into when I found my dad.

Aunt Steph’s sister raised me for fifteen years. She’s who I call Mom. But Aunt Steph’s my biological mom which is why my dad was such a huge secret. Trust me, it’s a lot to get used to.

And Mom, the one who raised me to my current almost awesome state, sent me here. ‘It’s only for a year," she promised but who knows these days, lying might be her new ‘go- to’.

Before they dumped all this on me, Steph was just my cool aunt. Now that I know she’s my bio-Mom things are a bit weird, uncomfortable weird. It’s crazy and somewhat creepy having two moms. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it so, I hope the year whizzes by, and I can go home to my normal life.

Steph, I whisper as loud as I can and knock. Wake up. I open her bedroom door.

What the hell’s going on? Steph flops around in her bed like she’s in a wrestling ring.

I flick on the light. Her hand flies over her eyes and she drops the F-bomb. Bucky, on his cushion in the corner, buries his head under his big black paws.

Do you know what Opa was doing?

I don’t know what I’m doing. Steph pulls a blanket over her head. Turn the damn light off.

Fine. I flick the switch. Opa was in the kitchen with Oma’s pills and beer. I think he was going to take them. He wants to wake up dead.

Silence.

Steph swings her legs over the edge of her bed. She hangs her head and lets out a huge sigh.

Sorry you had to see that, she says in a quiet voice.

What? He’s done it before?

She clasps her hands in her lap and looks up. "Jillian, he’s a grown man. Grown old man. His wife died. She was his best friend. He’s miserable. He’s lonely. He’s not himself right now."

He could die if he took them all.

I told him that. I also told him he might not die. He might end up a vegetable in a diaper for years.

That’s terrible. And mean. I slam my hands on my hips. How could you say that to him?

Because he needs to hear it. There’s no easy way out for him. I think, Steph pauses, it keeps him from taking the pills.

I stare at her. How can she be so cold? He’s her dad. And she’s my real mom. She’s got to have the tiniest heart. Maybe giving me to her sister to raise really was the best option. I should feel grateful instead of betrayed because she never wanted me.

We have to do something, I say. We have to help Opa.

We do help. Trust me. You being here helps but we can’t babysit him. He doesn’t want it. And I really don’t want to. It’s not fair to anyone. Now go get some sleep. He’ll be fine in the morning.

Whatever. I close her door and lean against the wall.

This can’t be happening.

Mom would know what to do. But I can’t worry her. Steph and I made an agreement, so Mom won’t freak if she hears about something going wrong here. We decided we will not tell her the bad stuff unless it’s life-critical to me. This is life-critical but not to my life. Anyways, I do the time zone thing like I’ve done since she left and realize she’s already at work. And to bother Mom at work is not worth it.

I tiptoe downstairs to the kitchen, get a bag, put all the pill bottles in it, and take them to my room. In my closet under a loose floorboard, I stuff the bag next to my journal. I’ve written some ugly stuff no one needs to read. I cringe when I remember what I wrote last night – I hate you, Mom. If I can’t get along with Steph, I have to go to an all-girl’s boarding school, where they wear uniforms, in northern BC. Northern BC! Like being stuck in Banff isn’t bad enough. How can Mom be so mean? To me.

Really, I know I don’t hate-hate Mom. I’m just super pissed at her. And because of her I have to figure out how to get along with Steph or I’ll end up in the middle of bloody nowhere northern BC where I’ll know no one at all. It’d be even worse than here.

Chapter 2

There’s lots of chatter as kids wander down the locker-lined hallway. Everyone stares at me. And why wouldn’t they? They’ve been back for over a month so it’s easy for them to spot the newbie. When I registered, the secretary said it’s a good school and I’d enjoy my classes. Right. Because she knows what I like.

I pull my shoulders back. Please let me make a friend. Someone who’s not already tight in a group. Someone I can walk down the halls with and hang out with so I’m not the loner kid.

On my third attempt at the combination, the lock pops open. I shove my backpack into the bottom and grab my cellphone.

Be sure to turn it off before class. Better yet, leave it in your locker.

I pull my locker door back to see a tall, skinny, blond guy with crooked glasses staring down at me.

Pardon?

No phones on in class. No drugs. No smokes. Pretty much no fun allowed. He shrugs. School rules.

That’s archaic.

Yup. But you’ll lose your phone if the teachers hear it. He raises his hands and waves them. Huge hassle. Easier to leave it behind.

Whatever.

I turn my back to skinny blond guy and flip screens to see if Steve texted. Still nothing. I check Find My Friend ® app. No Steve listed. What? He ghosted me. Already? I’ve only been gone a few days. What a jerk. I suck at picking a good boyfriend. Maybe my first clue should have been that Mom liked him. I shove my phone in my pack and grab textbooks. The locker door slams hard enough to make people look. Great. Now I’m the new kid with attitude. I lean my head against the door.

A whole year of this. It’s going to be the longest year of my life.

Barrett. Skinny, blond guy leans against his locker and points his thumb at his chest.

Jillian.

I can show you around, he continues.

I have a boyfriend. I blurt out the words before my brain has a chance to tell me to shut up. My cheeks get hot.

Sweet. But I was only offering to show you around. Not date you.

I’m sorry. I look at him. That was rude.

He nods.

Baggy, wrinkled t-shirt, jeans, dirty white sneakers. He’s got a nice smile, not like hot or anything, just friendly.

Homeroom for grade 10B, I say.

Follow me.

He turns and walks through the crowd of kids. It takes me half a second to realize he’s literally just leading the way. I walk quick to catch up.

So, Barrett. I take a few half-steps to walk in sync with him. How’d you know I was new?

You’re kidding? Right? He grins. Small school. And I didn’t recognize you. Plus, everyone knows your aunt and you kind of look like her.

I groan. Small towns suck. Big time.

Homeroom. Barrett steps into the class.

A few kids are already seated. Barrett heads to the back, drops his books on a table and pulls out a chair.

Do I follow? Do I sit somewhere else? If I was at my school, I’d know these kids. I’d know where to sit. But here, what do I do?

I glance around. Act chill. Cause I am. Most of the time.

Jillian. Barrett points to the chair next to him.

You don’t have to take care of me, I whisper as I sit down.

I know. He leans forward and pokes the guy in front of him. They talk monosyllabic stuff while I take out my binder.

I stare at the back of the kids’ heads.

Mom doesn’t want me around. Steph doesn’t know what to do with me being around. And Opa wants to kill himself. It all makes my gut hurt.

An older lady comes in wearing a blazer, turtleneck, long skirt combo. I check her legs and she’s got on printed leotards. She looks like she walked out of Oma’s closet. It makes me smile in spite of the unfamiliarity of the class.

The chatter stops when she stands in front of the room and looks up and down the rows, finger tapping in the air like she’s mentally remembering everyone who should be here. She pauses when she gets to me, nods, smiles, and carries on.

When she’s done taking attendance, she reviews last night’s homework. Homework I’m already behind in. A few keener hands shoot up with answers and I write down keywords which sound familiar in hopes I can reference my notes at home.

After class, I ask Barrett where the biology lab is. He points down the hall.

First left and follow the smell of formaldehyde. You can’t miss it. He takes off in the opposite direction with a wave. My knight abandons me. Great.

It feels even more awkward being in a classroom of all strangers. At least when Barrett was there, I knew someone, sort of. I go to check my phone a thousand times and stop when I, once again, realize it’s in my locker.

I catch a few kids checking me out. They’re not fast or polite enough to look away, so I stare at them till they do.

The lunch bell goes, I grab my books and when I look down, I see blood on my crotch. You’ve got to be kidding? I tip side to side. Yup. Bit of a blood streak on the seat too.

I pretend to write notes and sort paper till everyone leaves before I pull off my hoody. Then I scoot my butt across the seat. Of course, it smears but most of it is now on the ass of my jeans.

Quick glance around the room. No one. I stand up, tie my hoody around my waist, rip sheets of paper from my binder and press the paper over the blood stain. After a few swipes, the seat is clean. I scrunch up the paper without getting any grossness on my fingertips and toss it in the garbage can.

I walk out of the room with my thighs pressing tight against each other. Quick trip to the can to add toilet paper to the leak and two wrong hallways to find my locker. I power walk to Opa’s. I’ve probably ruined the blue jean seam on the inside of my thighs. Thank God no one’s home. I’ll deal with the laundry mess after. On the way back to school, I pray my incident went unnoticed. I do not want that kind of attention.

Classes go on forever. A few people smile and one girl says hi. I think she’s from math class. When school’s done for the day, I hurry to my locker and this time don’t take the wrong hallway. Bonus.

You survived? Barrett says as I sort books to take home.

Yeah, I say. Like it’s been a total peach of a day.

Not so bad?

Easy for you to say. I laugh. You’re not the new kid.

Meh. Not a big deal. Don’t make it one.

I open my eyes wide like I’m in the presence of a super star. Aren’t you the wise one.

He shrugs and leaves.

What a guy. It’s obvious he doesn’t have a huge need to impress anyone. Part of me feels slighted he didn’t hit on me. And that thought drops me back to the here and now. My phone. Steve.

As I swing out the front door to find a non-busy piece of grass to stop on, I see a familiar face way down the sidewalk. Seeing someone I know makes me smile. It’s Steph’s boyfriend’s sister, Mika. She waves and her straight, long hair swings as she walks faster towards me.

How sweet is she to check how my first day went?

I go to wave back, pause halfway and yank my arm down when I realize she’s not waving at me. Who’s she trying to…before I finish my thought, Barrett rushes up to her. And they kiss. They really kiss.

My mouth hangs open.

Mika never said anything about a boyfriend when they were over for supper the other night. She just went on about driving the horse team and wagon in town and how great tourists are at tipping. Oh yeah, and how hard math correspondence is. Not. One. Word. About. A. Boyfriend. I know we’re not BFFs or anything, but I’m hurt she didn’t tell me about Barrett.

And why didn’t Barrett tell me? Oh right, why would he? We just met. But he’d know Mika knows me. He says there are no secrets in a small town. Kudos to him, though, for snagging an older chick. My smartassedness makes me chuckle.

With all the Mika and Barrett distraction I forgot why I rushed outside and turn my phone on. Messages from Steph and Kyra scroll up. Still nothing from Steve.

What happened to him?

I catch a glimpse of Mika and Barrett heading into the Cascade Mall. I will deal with them later.

I text Steve again.

What’s up

I check Find My Friend ® app. Still no Steve. I text Kyra.

Have u seen S

Dots flash across the bottom of my phone as I wait for the message. I’ve told her how to turn it off so people can’t tell you’re responding right away but she obviously doesn’t care.

No

See him at school

Nope. How’s Banff?

Fukin awful

Right after I hit send, I regret it. She’ll feel bad because she can’t fix my life and she’s all about trying to make everyone’s lives full of smiley faces and heart emojis.

Sorry not your fault ttys

Before I shove my phone in my pocket, I go back to Find My Friend ® app, delete Steve and text Mika.

Call me asap

I know better than to wait for her response. Mika hates technology. Her brother, Tom, got her a cell phone in case of an emergency and she packs it around to appease him but seldom turns it on.

There’s only a couple of elementary kids and an adult ahead of me on the sidewalk going home. Figures. I’m not sure why I thought my new best friend would live next door.

Opa and