Page 64 of Go Back to December

Baz utters my name like a warning, but I ignore him and pull out my phone.

Sofia Jonson

Good news, chicos, we got the late brunch seating for New Year’s Day.

Annabel Yates

Ugh, Mamá, I will have to feed Oscar at least twice before that.

Luiza Johnson

If you think I’m getting out of bed before noon on January 1…

Sofia Johnson

You can blame your brother.

He insists on staying in the city for New Year’s Eve.

Melody, convince him to come up early.

“Don’t answer them,” Baz barks.

“Why not?” My voice wobbles. “You’re pushing away a family who loves you, and I don’t understand why. Do you want to be alone?”

“Do you?”

The words are cruel; they hit white and hot. I can’t breathe.

Until I catch Baz’s face breaking. He’s laboring to pump air in and out of his lungs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I don’t even know why I said it.”

“Of course I don’t want to be alone,” I whisper. “Neither do you. If you did, being apart from your family wouldn’t upset you this much. Whatever is going on, whatever this thing is with them, and the lake…work it out, Baz. Before it’s too late. Because I’ll tell you about shitty Christmases.”

His gaze doesn’t back down. He actually appears eager to hear my horrible confession, as evidenced by his slow, encouraging nod.

I fling a hand at the desk. “Those albums? They are the only things my father left me, beyond his name and a mountain of debts. He lived for four weeks after his diagnosis. Craig was deployed, and my mom—” My words cut out. “There was only me.”

“And you were a kid.” He shifts closer. “Luiza’s age.”

“Younger. And so naïve. When the doctors said he would go into remission, I rented a hospital bed, coordinated nursing services, because I was so sure he’d get better. But he never left the hospital. I had to plan a funeral instead.”

Baz curses, his cheeks flush. Hopefully, from the shame of his behavior yesterday.

And I’m nowhere near finished telling him about the worst of it. Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop.

“The time I had to take off from school to deal with everything straddled two semesters. I missed so much, I had to withdraw from three classes. I lost my scholarship.” My throat burns with the strain of keeping control. “It took me an extra eighteen months to graduate. Without my scholarship, I worked three jobs to cover tuition and living costs, which meant I could only do school part-time.”

I laugh shakily. “Then I couldn’t qualify for another scholarship because I wasn’t a full-time student. You want to know the worst part?”

He nods as he inches closer.

“Everything I’ve ever attempted since, I’ve failed at. But I haven’t learned from my mistakes. I’m so good at convincing myself I can fly high enough to reach the sun, when in reality, my wings are on fire. And that makes me just like my father.”

As I finally capitulate to the tears, Baz’s arms curl around my trembling shoulders. It’s a hug that would make Minnow jealous, and it is exactly what I need.

This terrifying epiphany makes me sob harder.

“Being idealistic doesn’t mean you’ll make the same choices your father did.” Baz’s long hands run the length of my back, soothing my uneven breaths. “I envy you so much for it.”