Patron Saint of Lost Causes

chapter 22: better son/daughter

And sometimes when you're on, you're really fucking on
And your friends they sing along and they love you.
But the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap
And it teases you for weeks in its absence.

But you'll fight and you'll make it through
You'll fake it if you have to and
You'll show up for work with a smile.
You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up
And a better daughter or son and a real good friend,
And you'll be awake,
You'll be alert, you'll be positive though it hurts

And you'll laugh and embrace all your friends
You'll be a real good listener, you'll be honest, you'll be brave
You'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful.
You'll be happy.

-"A Better Son/Daughter" by Rilo Kiley

"You guys really didn't have to come for breakfast," James said. "It's so early."

"Oh, yes, we did," Charlie said, squeezing his arm lightly as Ned locked the car and dropped the keys in his pocket. "I took a day off for this. I did sub plans. And you know that I would rather teach my kindergarteners while puking than write sub plans, so we are going to make the most of it."

James bit back a sigh as they started the walk across the parking lot. "I live at home, Mom," he said. "You see me literally every day. You don't have to come to family weekend."

"It's your senior year, Mini," Ned said. "Let your mother have this."

"You're my only child! You're going to graduate and leave the nest!" Charlie said. "I can't believe you're already a senior. Ned, are we old enough to have a senior in high school?"

"I sure hope so," Ned said dryly.

Charlie reached for James's hand and squeezed it. "We should have had more babies," she said. "How did you end up an only child? What am I going to do without when you go off to college?"

"Mom, it's barely the end of September, you've got almost a year before I go to college," he said. "And you know I'll be home for every holiday."

"I know, but it doesn't really soften the blow," Charlie said. "It seems like only yesterday that you were crying because you had to go to the other kindergarten class instead of mine."

"You're going to tell my friends that story, aren't you?"

"Probably. I have the pictures too."

"Mom."

But he laughed as he said it. They'd always been a close knit family, just the three of them and the bakery and the little house he'd lived in his whole life. And truth be told he would probably be just as sad to leave them as they would be to see him go off to school.

It was still early in the morning, early enough that the skies still held a hint of deep blue at the edges, but the dining hall doors were propped open and festooned with a welcome banner. "Do you think the rest of your friends will be here soon?" Ned asked.

"Oh, they're already here," James said. "Hopefully they saved enough seats."

The hall was half filled with students in their uniforms and their out-of-place parents. He could spot Alex's red hair from a mile away at their usual table; she'd curled it and tied the sides back with a wide blue velvet ribbon. She only curled her hair on special occasions or when she was worried and felt like she needed to look more grown up. He had a feeling it was a little of both.

"We are already off the itinerary! We're running so behind!"

"Penelope, I hate to break it to you, but nobody read it."