Chasing Forgiveness Read Online Free PDF

wouldn’t be.
    Mom turns to me and squints a little bit. She reads something on my face, but she doesn’t read it right. “Don’t you want to live with Aunt Jackie?” she asks. “It’ll be great, just like it used to be—remember?”
    â€œYeah,” I say, but I really don’t remember much about when Aunt Jackie lived with us when I was little. I know she took care of me and that’s why we’re so close. It’s like she was my second mom. But it’ll be different now. She’s been married and divorced since then. She has two kids of her own to take care of, and even though she has a nice house, I can’t imagine the six of us all fitting into it.
    Mom tosses the spaghetti sauce into the microwave and nukes it on low, so it’ll be ready when the spaghetti is. Then she goes into the living room, clicks on the TV, and melts onto the couch, rolling the kink out of her neck and sighing. “It was a hard day at the bank,” she says, but it’s always a hard day at the bank.
    Dad thinks it’s her attitude and not the bank, but Mom has her own view of things. “I have no room to grow,” she says when she talks to people about the bank and about her life at home. Room to grow. When she says that, I picture one of her big potted plants in a tiny ceramic pot. It gets lots of sunand water, but it’s still dying because it’s choking on its own roots. Mom’s like that. But just because Mom needs to be transplanted doesn’t mean that I do.
    I stand off to the side of the TV and clear my throat.
    â€œI want to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s,” I tell her.
    â€œDinner will be ready in five minutes,” she says.
    â€œAfter dinner, then.”
    She reads my face again, but once more she gets it wrong. “Don’t come home too late,” she tells me. “It’s a school night.”
    â€œNo,” I say. “I mean I want to go there . . . to stay.” I clear my throat again. I can’t look her in the face. “I want to live with Dad.”
    There, I’ve said it. I figure she’ll probably cry and it’ll make me cry. She’ll think I hate her.
    â€œIt’s up to you, Preston,” she says. “I know your dad wants you with him. If you want to move in with him, it’s okay with me.” And that’s all she has to say about it. I try to read Mom’s face, but the book is closed. I don’t know what she’s thinking or feeling. If she is angry or hurt she certainly isn’t showing it.
    I want to explain to her all the reasons. I want to tell her that I’m worried about Dad, because even though he’s with Grandma and Grandpa, he’s really all alone without us. Without me. Tyler’s always been sort of a mother’s boy, but Dad and I—well, we just have to be together now.
    I think it would be a tragedy if we weren’t together, and Dad’s had enough tragedies in his lifetime. When he was akid, his sister drowned right in front of his eyes while he was trying to save her. His father—Grandpa Scott—had a nervous breakdown because if it, and Dad has had to live with the memory all his life. He’s always said that Mom and Tyler and me were the only good things to ever happen to him. If he loses us all it’ll be like his sister drowning all over again. I have to be with him.
    I want to tell Mom all this. I want to tell her that it doesn’t mean I don’t love her—I do—I love her more than anything . . . but the microwave beeps before I can say anything, like the bell at the end of the round.
    Mom smiles warmly at me, as if to say it’s all right, and gets up to check the spaghetti. “Call your brother in for dinner,” she says. So I turn and do as I’m told. I don’t have to explain it to her now. When things settle down, there’ll be plenty of time for