Leo

When I arrive home from work, Kit and Aunty Tenille are nowhere to be seen, and I have to search the house a fair bit in order to realize that Mom is probably outside at the old tree swing. Ever since she arrived, she's been going out there a lot. I'm assuming it holds some kind of connection to my dad, but I've been too afraid to ask, worried that I'll upset her. Mom is usually extraordinarily strong when it comes to discussing Dad, but I think being in Whistler makes it tougher for her. This place holds a lot of memories, so I can't blame her.

When I head outside, two glasses of ice-cold lemonade in my hands, the sun is just beginning to dip behind the mountains, casting an orangish glow across the dimming sky. The grass beneath my bare feet is slightly damp from the sprinkler and I can feel little specks of dirt between my toes, but I enjoy that feeling. There's just something about walking barefoot on the grass that makes me feel young and free.

"How long have you been out here?" I ask once I'm within hearing range.

Mom looks over her shoulder, smiling softly at me. "A few minutes," she replies, glancing up at the stubborn maple tree. I hold out the lemonade to her and she takes it, thanking me. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," she continues, her voice hoarse. "I never thought I'd come back to this place."

I shoot her a weak smile. No matter how hard I try to understand what my mom is going through, what she's thinking, or how she's feeling, I can't. I did lose someone important to me, but I don't have the same type of connection she does. The very foundation of this town doesn't hold an excess amount of meaning to me. Not yet, anyway.

"It's difficult," she sniffles.

Hesitantly, I rest a hand on Mom's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. It's the best I can do at this moment to tell her I'm here for her. 

"I'm sorry," Mom says, wiping her tears away. "I've learned how to live without him, to be the best Mom I can possibly be and continue to live my life, but ever since you graduated high school, things have been harder. Leo, your dad would have loved to be here, to see you graduate, to grow up. I just...I just hate that the world had to take someone like him away and make him miss out on all this, on life with his own son. I miss Leon every day, but I'm more upset because of what was taken away from him not because of my own feelings." Mom pauses and looks at me. "Does that make sense?"

I look away, my own eyes burning, and take a sip of my lemonade. "It makes perfect sense," I reply. This is the exact reason I'm completing Dad's bucket list. He lost a lot of opportunities in his life, a lot of experiences. It's been a rough journey for me, in some respect, and an even rougher journey for Mom, Grandpa, Aunty Tenille, and Kit, but I feel more terrible for my dad and all the things he's missed out on. The "what could have beens" are what can consume you.

Mom and I sit here in silence for several minutes, staring out at the land before us; the vast fields and the forest that outlines it, the snow-capped mountains, and the sunset sky. From the corner of my eye, I watch as Mom takes a sip of her lemonade. The tears have stopped now, but she continues to trail her fingers across the rubber of the tire swing, her gaze locked on nothing but memories.

"What are you thinking about right now?" I ask.

Mom smiles. "I'm thinking about the time your dad fell from this very branch and broke his arm. He must have been nine."

Intrigued, I encourage Mom to continue on with the story. I lean against the trunk of the tree, working on my lemonade.

"Ten and I," she elaborates with a smile still present on her face. "Had apparently been hogging the tire swing, so Leon threatened to cut this very rope. Of course, Ten and I laughed at him, wondering how he could possibly cut the rope from the ground. So, being the smartass I could be, I made a condescending comment about him climbing up the tree and cutting it."

"Let me guess," I smile. "He climbed up and tried to do just that?"

"He sure as hell did," Mom confirms. "He shimmied up that tree and swung himself onto the branch. The only downfall to his brilliant plan, though, was that it had rained earlier that day and the wood was slick with moisture. Leon's feet went out from under him and he fell, his arm breaking the collision with the ground. Ten's mom nearly lost her mind on him, but we could all tell she was on the brink of laughing. It was impossible for anyone to stay mad at him."

While it sounds pretty painful, I can't help but laugh. I love it when Mom or Grandpa tell me stories about Dad and his recklessness when he was a kid and then a teenager. They always make fun of him for being bold and not thinking before acting, but the older he gets in the stories they tell, the more he mellows out and begins thinking instead of listening to his heart. It's a difficult balance to maintain, but it seems as though he was able to find that balance between heart and mind.

I look down at the contents of my glass. There's nothing but melting ice left and the rind of a lemon. As I do this, I begin to think about all the stories Mom and other family members have shared with me...and what little I've shared with them about Aria and I. It rattles me a little. So much so that I hardly hear the rest of the story, only catching bits and pieces about how Dad's parents reacted and what everyone wrote on his cast.

Lost in my train of thought, I take another sip of my drink so I can chew thoughtfully on an ice cube. It's unfair that Rosa and Luke and the rest of Aria's family know about our relationship, and my own mother has no clue.

"Hey, Mom?" I ask as the ice cube crunches between my teeth.

"What's bothering you, Leo?" she asks.

I chuckle, rubbing the back through my neck. Leave it to my mom to be extremely intuitive around me. Sometimes it freaks me out, but most of the time I'm glad she has this strange ability. Emotions are difficult to translate into words. What's even harder, though, is telling my mom that I've been dating someone for about a week now and that I've been keeping it from her. It makes me feel ashamed of myself. Mom and I have never kept secrets from one another, and here I am, doing exactly that.

Clearing my throat, I say, "You know Aria?"

"Yes," Mom replies, squinting at me. There's a small smirk on her lips, one I've seen on my own face during rare occasions.

"Well, uh, we're dating."

Mom continues to stare at me, and as I stare back at her I begin to realize just what her grin truly means. She doesn't look surprised at all, which can only mean one thing. "Shit," I curse softly. "You knew already, didn't you? You figured it out."

She smiles at me, tipping her glass in my direction. "To be honest, Leo, it wasn't hard to figure it out. You get a look in your eyes that's very similar to the one your father got." She pauses, frowning slightly. "At least that's what Tenille tells me. In addition to that, it was hard not to guess considering how close together you two were on the couch."

I gape at my mom. "Both of you were spying on us?"

"You and Aria weren't very secretive," she argues. "Cuddling in the living room? I thought I taught you better than that."

"In my defense," I reply. "I've never had a girlfriend. I'm new to this." I glance at her. "So you're not mad at me for keeping this from you?"

Mom gives me a look as she stands up and walks over to me. "Why would I be mad at you?" she asks, resting a hand on my shoulder.

I shrug. "We tell each other everything. I feel bad for keeping a secret from you."

"Leo," she laughs, squeezing my shoulder. "You're an adult. You're allowed to keep your secrets. As much as I hate to see you grow up, you have, which inevitably leads to me no longer having to act as your parent."

"Mom," I say. "I'm still your kid."

"And you always will be," she says. "But you need to get out there and find your independence, create a space in the world for yourself. I'll always be a part of your life, but the next step that's coming in your life doesn't have much to do with me. You don't have to tell me every little decision you make."

I glance down at my hands, unsure of how I feel. I've always confided in Mom for pretty much anything, and the thought of stepping into this world, of moving out and going to university has always scared me a little. 

"I know that look," Mom says. "You're unsure of everything, of the future that's looming on the horizon. And that's perfectly normal. When I found out I was pregnant with you, I was terrified. But I was also excited. Sometimes change is good, sometimes it's for the better. And if you want one piece of advice in regards to your relationship with Aria, don't overthink it because, essentially, it all boils down to how you two feel about each other. The opinions of other people don't matter. Just go with the relationship, enjoying the ups and even the downs."

I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to respond to Mom, how I'm supposed to express just how thankful I am for having her to talk to, so instead of saying anything, I hug her. 

Mom rests her hand on the back of my head. She has to reach quite a ways since I'm much taller than her, but she still does it. "Your dad would be so proud of you," she whispers. "Whatever choices you make, whatever you do with your life, remember that."

I hug Mom tighter, squeezing my eyes shut and repeating her words over and over again like a mantra. If Dad can win Mom over again, and Mom can heal from something that was never meant to happen, then I can follow her advice and find my independence.