CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

AFTER HIS WEDNESDAY exams, Timothy walked to the Student Union to call Cheryl. The Student Union buzzed with post-exam euphoria. Music poured from the jukebox, laughter filled the air, and groups of students sat around talking. This painted a different picture than a few days ago.

“Hey, I’m done,” he said.

“So, how did you do?” Cheryl asked.

“Good, I think. I know I aced the abnormal psych final, and I thought the stats exam would be tougher. The professor grades on a curve anyway, so I should get my grade. I’ll need it after Monday’s experience with Comrade Leibert.”

“Congratulations. I’m proud of you. One more semester under your belt. I think a celebration is in order, and it’s on me.”

“Okay, girl. What do you have in mind?”

“A special occasion like this can mean only one thing: Mantia’s,” Cheryl said.

“You’re on. You know how to make a guy a deal he can’t refuse. How about I come by your house after you get off work? Say six o’clock?”

“I’ll be waiting,” she said.

Timothy left the Student Union and headed to the truck. It started on the first try. That added to his euphoria. Life is good today. As he drove home, he sang along with the radio, drumming his fingers on the wheel. Timothy hadn’t felt this good in a while. Even with his responsibilities and the decisions he faced, finishing the semester today and celebrating tonight with Cheryl offered needed relief. He decided to swing by the hospital and see Mom again before heading home for a short nap. He wanted to rest for their big night of celebrating. When he got to the hospital, Leslie was already there.

“Hey, Mom,” he said.

“Hello, dear,” Mom said.

She sounded weaker than a few hours ago. Leslie’s eyes looked red.

“Tired, Mom?” he said.

“Yes. They made me walk this morning. I think it wore me out.”

“Well, that’s good you’re up.”

He looked at Leslie and nodded hopefully.

“Hey, Sis. What’s up with you guys?”

“Work and kids, what else? I hear you finished your exams today,” Leslie said.

“I took my last two this morning. I’m off for a couple of weeks, and I think I will catch up on some sleep,” he said.

“That’s good, dear. You deserve it.”

“What about your car?” Leslie said.

Timothy gave Leslie a pleading look.

“What happened to your car?” Mom said.

“Oh, Scoot’s doing some work on it. He let me use his truck,” Timothy said.

“That’s nice. He’s a good friend, isn’t he?” Mom said.

“Yes, he is,” Timothy said.

Mom closed her eyes and breathed heavily. Timothy motioned Leslie toward the hall. They went outside Mom’s room to talk.

“Why are your eyes red?” Timothy said.

“Can’t you see?”

“See what?”

“Mom—she looks terrible,” Leslie said.

“She looks tired to me. They got her up earlier. That’s a good thing. She’s probably tired from the exercise,” Timothy said.

“Maybe. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days, and you’ve seen her every day. It’s more dramatic for me.”

“I understand. She’s stable. That’s something to be grateful for,” he said

“You’re right. What are your plans to celebrate exams being over?”

“Cheryl is treating me to dinner at Mantia’s.”

“Whew, fancy. You’ll love that.”

“Timmy, are you still here?” Mom called out.

“Yes, Mom. We’re in the hallway,” he said.

“Could you get me some ice chips?”

“Sure.”

Leslie went back inside as Timothy went to get the ice chips.

“Mom, I’m leaving. I need to go home to be there for the kids when they get home from school. I’ll come back tomorrow to see you,” Leslie said.

“Okay, dear. Thanks for coming up. I’m lucky to have you children. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. We’re here,” Leslie said as she leaned over and kissed Mom.

“Okay, dear. Thanks for coming by.”

Timothy met Leslie at the door.

“God, I feel guilty every time I come up here,” Leslie said. “She looks pitiful.”

“Mom can do that to you, you know,” Timothy said. “She is the master.” He grinned.

“You’re better at handling this stuff than I am,” Leslie said.

“I’ve had more practice.” He smiled. “Look, you have nothing to feel guilty about. You have your hands full.”

“So do you,” Leslie said.

“Yeah, but I don’t have four kids depending on me.”

“You’re a good little brother.”

She leaned forward and hugged him.

“And don’t say anything else to Mom about the car. I didn’t tell her. Besides, how did you know?”

“I think you know.” Leslie smiled.

“Cheryl, right?”

“Timmy, do you have those chips?” Mom called.

“On the way, Mom.” He fed her the ice chips.

“Do you know how lucky I am to have children like you and your sister?”

“Yeah, I do. You keep telling us that,” he said.

He laughed loud enough for her to hear. Mom returned the laugh.

“Listen, Mom. I need to get going. I want to go home and take a nap before we go out tonight.”

“Yes, I understand. How’s your friend?” Mom said.

“If you mean Cheryl, she’s fine. She asks about you all the time.”

“Does she? She’s a sweet girl. I think she’s good for you.”

Timothy said nothing. Mom never called Cheryl sweet. This sounded out of character for her he didn’t know what to say. Mom looked at his dumbfounded face and smiled.

“Okay, Mom. See you tomorrow. I work tomorrow night, so I’ll come up earlier in the day.”

“Okay, Timmy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom,” he said.

Timothy drove slowly home, thinking about this semester and the relief of having it behind him. He wondered if he had the energy for the next semester.

Maybe Penny is right. Packing up and taking off for a while sounds like a tempting offer.

The adolescent Timothy missed that part of life because of the war. Penny’s invitation simply echoed his longstanding thoughts. He experienced the same emotion all young soldiers confronted when they came home—that they skipped several grades in school and never had the opportunity to live that carefree life.

If I take off a semester to regroup, I could work the sixty hours for Dez, quit the hospital, and still save some money. If I did that through the end of summer, I could start back next fall with money in the bank. That two hundred and twenty a month from the VA doesn’t even cover tuition, fees, and books. All right, I’m not going to think about that today. I’m going to celebrate. Besides, I need to check with Scoot when I get home.

He drove slowly the rest of the way, enjoying the pace. Not rushing felt therapeutic. The lack of urgency relaxed him. When he got home, Timothy called Scoot to check on the car. Scoot told him he wasn’t able to talk to the guy yet but would try again later. He told Timothy he picked up the car on Tuesday and had it at the shop. It could sit for a couple of days until Timothy figured out what to do. Scoot didn’t need his truck, so Timothy could drive it until he got his car fixed.