Nancy

Nancy:  Original Outsider Girl writer, Nancy (Crosses, 1991, 2001).  Mother of Casey (OGW), confidante of Rain and Kayla (Somebody’s Daughter, OGW)

                     Moving On

                   By Nancy Keenan

 

Grab handful of necklaces:

                          Silver moon goddess

                          Turquoise healing beads

                          Long chain

                          Fat heart

                          Beaded Indian Mama

Pack:
                          Clay wolf Casey made

                          Scribbled of phone #’s

                          Purple post-its

                          Conch

                          Witch Baby

Pile into used Priority

Mail shipping box:

                          Each Day a New Beginning

                          Coraline

                          Wood Nymph Seeks Centaur

                          My Many Colored Days

                          Twelve filled notebooks

                          Buffy calendar

                          Hubble: Views of Space

Hug:

                          Big Mama Panda

Kiss:

                          Little Panda Bear

Stuff:                    
                          The box 
                          The suitcase 
                          Full

Carry:

                          It all to my car.

Say:

                          Don’t cry sweet girl,

                          We’re going to be okay.

Nancy/Me

Nancy:  Nancy, originally from my novel Crosses, is grown up now.  She is also, as she’s always been, the most like me of all my characters.  For my holiday blog this year, I’ve taken my own experience, wrapped it in Nancy’s persona, and made something new.

Nancy:  I do not know why I wore platform heels to the Christmas Tree Shops, just to stand in lines… lines through the front door, lines around in circles and swirls, to the gift tins I came for, and around one side to get a glass strawberry-dipped-in-chocolate ornament and a deep red heart ornament that makes me think of Twilight.  Lines in and out of heaps of reduced-price baubles and stupid things, only not so stupid since I need these last minute massagers and coloring books, reed diffusers and faux-crystal santas.

     At the checkout, the woman behind me is complaining about my full basket and the long wait in line.  I look up and see that she is a nun, which makes me smile inside.  I remember when Casey was little, she shouted “A nun!  A nun!  Mommy, I saw a nun!” inside a McDonald’s.  As if she’d seen a unicorn.

     I tell the nun to go on ahead of me, since she only has one item.  She is surprised at first, then politely declines.  Whatever.  Score one for me with God anyway, is what I figure.

     And you know what?  The baubles and other gifts aren’t worth much money, but are my way of saying, “I’m glad you’re in my life,” and they’re good gifts because of that.  The thought really does count.  And Casey will love the Twilight-ish ornament.  I feel pretty good, as my aching feet lead me out the line out the door and all the way back to my car a lot away.

     My feet ache, but when I get home I’ll change into sneakers and sit down and write, and when Christmas comes, I’ll say, I did all right this year.  

Nancy

Nancy,originally from Crosses, was my first outsider girl.  Now Nancy is grown-up, with an outsider girl of her own -- daughter, Casey, fifteen.  Fifteen… the age when Nancy met Katie, the age when Nancy began cutting herself in earnest, when she started drugs, dating.  Will Casey follow the same path her mother did, or will she find her own?

Nancy:  With everything I’ve done, I still have no problem at all saying to Casey, “Promise me you will not ever, no matter who gives them to you, no matter what they’re for, you will not ever take a pill.  Not from me, not from a stranger, not from your best friend.  Whatever you do—“

“I know Mom!  I won’t ever take a pill!  I won’t shoot heroin either—“

“I know you think I’m saying this just because I watched that Intervention—“

“I know you’re just saying it because you don’t want me to go out with Kayla this weekend.”  Casey lights a cigarette, and I want to cry, because it's my fault.  She took the smoke from my pack after all.  

I never made her promise not to smoke.  You have to choose your battles -- “If you want to try drinking or pot, we can talk about that—“

“If it’ll make you happy, I’ll talk to you before I take a sh—“

“What’s that on your arm?  Have you been biting yourself?”

“Mom, it’s not like that—“

“I can’t believe after all we’ve been through in this house—“

“Mom!  I’m not trying to hurt myself!”

“Don’t you think I would—“

“You don’t know everything, Mom.  It’s just a hickey.”

“Oh Casey, don’t you know it’s not cool to be branded, who’s the guy—“

“There’s no guy—“

“The girl?”

“Mom, I did it to myself!”

“Isn’t that what we were just talking about!  Casey, sometimes you drive me crazy!  Please, let’s talk about this.”

“Mom, no one needs to drive you crazy, you’re already there.”

I rush to the freezer to get two ice cubes, which I grip hard, one in each hand, while I breathe deeply, cooling-down breaths.  Casey sighs, comes closer, and wraps her arms around my waist.  “Kidding, Mom, kidding!  I love you!”

I smile.  I breathe.  “And another thing,” I say, “Never, ever get in a car—“

“With someone who’s been drinking.  I know, Mom, but holy crap, I’m only fifteen!  It’s just a party.  It’s no big deal, Mom.”

OhmiGod.  Fifteen.  “When I was fifteen—“ 

“I know! I know all about you and Katie, you’ve told me a thousand times—“

My face tightens, and ice water streams from my hands as I squeeze the cubes, a trick I learned, a trick Katie and could’ve used.

“Mommy, I’m so sorry!  I shouldn’t have said—“

“It’s okay, Case.  I’m sorry I’m such a basket case. I just love you so much.”

“I know, Mom. I’ll be home by midnight.  Jonas will drive me home.”

And there it is.  And now it begins.