A Different Kind of Normal
Cathy Lamb
Language: English
Pages: 408
ISBN: 0758259395
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
From acclaimed author Cathy Lamb comes a warm and poignant story about mothers and sons, family and forgiveness--and loving someone enough to let them be true to themselves. . .
Jaden Bruxelle knows that life is precious. She sees it in her work as a hospice nurse, a job filled with compassion and humor even on the saddest days. And she sees it in Tate, the boy she has raised as her son ever since her sister gave him up at birth. Tate is seventeen, academically brilliant, funny, and loving. He's also a talented basketball player despite having been born with an abnormally large head--something Jaden's mother blames on a family curse. Jaden dismisses that as nonsense, just as she ignores the legends about witches and magic in the family.
Over the years, Jaden has focused all her energy on her job and on sheltering Tate from the world. Tate, for his part, just wants to be a regular kid. Through his blog, he's slowly reaching out, finding his voice. He wants to try out for the Varsity basketball team. He wants his mom to focus on her own life for a change, maybe even date again.
Jaden knows she needs to let go--of Tate, of her fears and anger, and of the responsibilities she uses as a shield. And through a series of unexpected events and revelations, she's about to learn how. Because as dear as life may be, its only real value comes when we are willing to live it fully, even if that means risking it all.
Beautifully written, tender and true, A Different Kind of Normal is a story about embracing love and adventure, and learning to look ahead for the first time. . .
Girls can’t even go to school at all. Why is that? Why are some countries so much more advanced than others? It is possible to overspice chili. I think it’s funny when it happens. Last time my friends Milt and Anthony came over, I put extra chili powder in their chili and I thought their faces were gonna fall off. Here’s a photo of them. See how there’s smoke practically coming out of Milt’s elephant ears? Yeah, you have elephant ears, Milt. Didn’t your mother ever tell you? I like
and Bob (my fists) and shove Michael’s and Raji’s heads together as hard as I can. I see this whole group of men in suits running toward us, and I know they’re running to help, which is nice, but not necessary as now all three of them are spread on the ground like amoebas that have been stepped on. These men run over, and they’re sweating when they get there and one says, “You okay, Tate?” This is a small town and a whole bunch of people know me, my mom and my Nana Bird and my
that was our excuse for the champagne. This is how my mother summed up my love life at one point, when we were sitting on my white porch one sunny afternoon drinking peppermint tea: You are testicle-free by choice. “Mother, I don’t want to talk about this. I only want one man’s testicles, and I can’t have them.” “I know you feel that Ethan’s testicles have a male chastity belt on them, so let’s move to another man with the same plumbing. In fact, let’s pretend there are a whole bunch of
spices and made all these weird recipes. We collected shells and rocks, which I have in the greenhouse in a blue cardboard box. We talked about boys. We helped take care of your great-grandma’s gardens here and memorized all the plants we had to plant in our own gardens because we descend from a long line of witches, as Grandma Violet used to say. Don’t believe the part about the witches, Tate.” “I know. You’ve told me a million times. But what happened? Why did Other Mother get into drugs?”
don’t want you to get hurt—” “Mom, I live with General Noggin and we’re good friends. I’ve got Billy and Bob to help me when kids want to knock me out. Plus, I’m huge. They say mean things because they want to scare me. I’m not going to let anybody scare me or push me off the court or get rid of me. No way. I ain’t no wimp.” I was, once more, humbled by his courage. I had always been humbled by his courage. “You are one stud of a brainiac, Tate.” “I’m not a stud. Okay to the brainiac part. But