Because of Haven Beach

30 | exonerate

exonerate (v.)

to be free from the weight of your burdens

* * *

WHEN I was eating breakfast on the first day back to school, my mom came into the kitchen with a troubled frown on her face. "Char, we need to talk."

I shoveled another spoonful of Cheerios into my mouth. "Can it wait? I'm kinda eating breakfast right now."

She sank into the chair across from me. "It's important."

"Did someone die?" I snickered.

Ella jabbed her bony elbow into my side, stopping me from making a joke about funerals.

That's too bad, she was probably dying to hear it.

My mom's face remained blank. "Charlotte."

I sobered up. "Shit. Did someone die? Fuck, I'm going to hell for this."

"No, nobody died! Well, you might kill me when you hear this."

"Hear what?"

"We're moving. Again."

I spit my Cheerios all over the table. "Moving?"

Where? We just got to Haven Beach and I loved it here. Not to mention, I loved Eli and just found a good group of friends. She had quite the nerve to uproot us again. What happened to staying close to family? That was kinda the whole point of moving to Haven Beach.

"Char? You okay?" Ella asked, waving her hand in front of my eyes. "You kinda zoned out there."

I shook my head. "We're moving? Uh, where?"

Please don't be far. Please don't be far. Please don't be far.

"Like five minutes away. It's near your friend Eli's house."

"Friend. Sureeee," Ella snickered. "Aunt Michelle, you should have seen—" It was now Ella's turn for a bony elbow to the stomach.

"Okay. Why is it such a big deal?" I asked, ignoring Ella's immaturity. "You almost gave me a heart attack there. Five minutes is literally nothing."

"That's not all."

I sighed. "What now?" I should have known by now to always expect a second or third shoe to drop.

"We're moving on Saturday... I've actually been placing offers on houses for months. I was going to tell you about this one, but my bid was accepted before I got the chance. Everything moved at warp speed and with the divorce finalized, I was able to give a downpayment and take out a mortgage. I didn't mean to dump all of this on you now, but everything literally happened in the past three days."

"Hold up. Saturday? Like two days from now, Saturday?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I—"

I cut her off, "I still got more to say. The divorce went through? Why didn't you tell me? I thought we would need to go to court and fight. I thought we were in this together."

She promised transparency, and there she goes, being as transparent as a brick. I would have expected this from my father, but never from my mother. And that hurt. Was I not mature enough to be involved in grown-up things? I was almost eighteen-years-old, for God's sake.

"My lawyer called me about the divorce last night. I was going to tell you, but you were sleeping."

Oh, that's not as bad as I thought. Maybe I was overreacting...