She stares me down with pursed lips. “You’re an idiot.” She opens a tub of face moisturizer I fought off a preteen in Sephora for and helps herself to it. “He’s not doing much better, by the way. It’s not a Halo Top–level depression, but it’s not great.”
“You guys talking about the boat?” Petey strides in and makes his way to the bathroom sink without stopping. “Ethan’s been talking about buying a Boston Whaler and recording an album using ‘found sounds.’ I try to be supportive, but…” Petey winces. “It’s so grim, man. Oh, cool, a fridge! Is there food up here?” Laurel nods and rolls off the bed again.
“Have you seen Ethan?” Neediness cracks in my voice. Even the sound of his name hurts, but I can’t help myself. It’s the only thing I want to hear.
Laurel grabs the low-cal cookie dough dessert and a spoonfrom the bar cart. “We’re checking in on him constantly. I was sure he was handling this worse than you until we broke into your house, and now I think it’s a dead heat.”
She passes the ice cream to Petey, who takes it along with the spoon. There’s something so intimate about it. The way they buzz around each other. Anticipate each other’s movements. They’re not all over each other but move in concert, never more than an inch apart, as though connected by a piece of thread.
“Charmander, this house issick. I’m loving this weird kitchen-bedroom setup. Lo, we’ve gotta get a bed fridge.” Petey passes the pint back and watches Laurel sniff cautiously but still shovel some into her mouth. The moment before he scrubs his face with his palm, I catch this private, amused smile he doesn’t intend for me to see, and I know for sure: They are so sickeningly happy. They’re in love, and it’s not the tumultuous kind that burns hot and fast, but the soft kind that smolders, gentle and warm, and requires only a little attention. They’re the real deal, and I’ve been too stuck in my own head to notice.
Petey nudges the shelf sticking out of my bag of situational-depression Target purchases. “Do you need a hand mounting this?”
“I’m an idiot.” The words bubble over my lips, and in an instant, I’m crying again. For the past few days, I’ve been existing in a constant state of near weeping. “I’m sorry I ruined your wedding. I was so awful. Everything I said…I did…” Machine-gun breaths dart out of my mouth. “I was so wrong about everything.”
Laurel sets the ice cream on top of the fridge and climbs back into bed with me. “Oh, I know, hon.” She pats my backwith just enough condescension for me to believe she’s truly unbothered. The relief turns every bone in my body liquid until I’m nothing but a blob in my bed with my sister.
“And I wasn’t really mad about any of it to begin with,” Petey explains, perching himself on the edge of the mattress. “Obviously, I’m worried about my boy, but that’s your guys’ business. I’m never going to stop loving my Charley Horse over something like that.”
I wipe snot on my sweatshirt sleeve. “Peter Eriksson-Thao, you are too pure for this world. And I ruined your one shot at happiness.” The crying starts up again.
Laurel pats my back. “Okay, this isa lot.” She squirms closer to me on the bed and squeezes me tight, pressing my cheek into her shoulder with her hand. “As much as I love hearing you admit that you’re wrong—mostly because youneverdo it—it’s all okay, Charley. We’ll get married. We’ll jump off that ledge when it feels right.”
“Only you could make marriage sound even more terrifying.”
She smooths my hair as she pulls back, her arms on my shoulders when she explains, “Nothing’s that scary with Peter. We make each other brave.”
It’s so simple, the way she says it, and I’m still processing her words when something Petey said earlier pings in my brain. “Did you say Ethan was buying a boat?”
Petey nods. “And it’s not like he has time for that kind of maintenance.”
“It’s an obvious bid for attention,” Laurel adds.
“Is he planning to tow it behind his van everywhere he goes?” I ask, struggling to picture his life with an extra fourteen hundred pounds strapped to the back of it.
“He’s selling the van,” Laurel announces.
My eyes dart between her and Petey. “Why would he do that?”
She gives me one of her teacher looks that says she’s not accepting any nonsense from me. “Why do you think, Charley?”
I shove the hope back down before it can ruffle beneath my breastbone. “It doesn’t mean anything. Dad tried the house and health insurance thing for Mom and went back to his old life the minute it got boring.”
Laurel screws up her face. “He didn’t do that forMom. His funding fell through for three projects in a row. He was broke. Hehadto take that job in Lewellen.”
The two of them continue to discuss the perils of boat upkeep, providing me time to resurface after this flood of new information. The story I always told myself—that my dadtriedto live a life for us but was destined to leave—isn’t true. He didn’t try at all. But Ethantries. He’s generous and loving and when he takes on something new, he throws himself into it without reservations. He’s a stayer.
And now he’s selling his van forme, without thepromiseof me.
I’m not sure how long I’ve tuned Laurel and Petey out, but when I perk back up, he’s volunteering them to stay the night.
“We did a number on that window. You might feel safer if we slept over after…you know…scaring the crap out of you.”
Even if he could fix it, it wouldn’t matter. I don’t feel safe in my own life after building my entire existence around that one criterion. Working my ass off at a firm filled with people I don’t respect hasn’t fixed it. Getting married didn’t. Buying this house didn’t.
I’ve been running scared for years, but rather than facing my fears down, I’ve been creating space for my insecurities and caring for them like little pets. Picking relationships and goals I could hold on to with one hand while keeping my shield up with the other, too scared to walk up to the edge and feel the rush of anticipation as the rocks tremble at my feet. And still I wasn’t safe.
I was right to worry that Ethan would hurt me—he’s the only one who truly can—but I don’t feel safe in this life I’ve built without him. All that is permanent and certain is that I’m unhappy. Unless I jump off this cliff, I always will be.
