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Too late. I do and run straight for the bathroom to empty the contents of my stomach. There is a gentle tap on the door, followed by an, “Are you okay… poodle?”
“Go away!” I yell, head in the basin, saying goodbye to that banana fudge sundae.
I don’t realize the door has opened, but there is a gentle creaking sound as the door is shut. My stomach is still weak, and the Jerk grabs all my hair and holds it back with his hand. Whether it’s because of the roadkill smell or his caring gesture, I hurl one last time into the toilet.
Flushing it, I sit back on my knees, facing away from him.
“Do you need me to get you anything?”
I shake my head as he continues to hold onto my hair.
“I think I puked in my hair,” I almost cry.
He leans in, and he is smelling my hair. “It still smells like coconut.”
“Coconut? Oh, that’s my shampoo to stop me from looking like Diana Ross.”
This is awkward. Do I tell him to let go of my hair? Then I remember last night and how he so easily just ignored what happened between us. I shuffle my head to the side and loosen my hair from the grip of his hand. “I’m going to take a shower.”
I stand, avoiding eye contact, then walk out of the bathroom and head upstairs to escape him.
After spending a good hour thoroughly rinsing my hair, I head back downstairs but halt just before the bottom step where Haden is standing, staring at the pictures on the wall.
“There’s a picture here of you and him,” he tells me, staring at the wall disconcertedly.
“Yes. He was my fiancé, and my parents considered him family.”
“Do they still see him, talk to him?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t asked them. If they do, it wouldn’t bother me. Jason is great, and it’s not fair for anyone to have to cut ties just because we aren’t romantically involved.”
His eyes are boring into the picture. Unsure of why it’s bothering him so much, I move my gaze to the picture itself to see if I’m missing something. It’s still the same picture I saw yesterday, nothing out of the ordinary.
“Is there a problem? You look annoyed.”
Abruptly, he turns to face me. “How would you like it if you went to my parents’ house and saw a picture of me and my ex on the wall?”
“I wouldn’t care because it’s your ex. And since we aren’t together, I really wouldn’t give a goddamn shit. That would be more appropriate wording for it. Besides, you’re with Eloise now. If I did care for you, which I don’t in the slightest bit, you being with her would be like adding salt to a wound,” I rant.
He exhales with a slight snicker. “Well, I’m glad you cleared up the confusion.”
Haden walks away from the conversation, and I see him disappear down the hall. How am I going to survive being on the same flight as him? Thank God, we didn’t book seats next to each other because I can’t handle any more of his childish outbursts.
We have an early meal before it’s time to pack and head out. With my suitcase ready to go, Mom knocks on the door bef
ore entering.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
She comes in carrying a small bag. “Here, honey. I want you to have this.”
Inside, I pull out a small yellow blanket. It’s soft and covered in colorful stripes on one side. I press it against my cheek, and a very familiar emotion overwhelms me. It smells a little like mothballs, but judging by the age of the blanket, it’s probably been sitting in some trunk in the attic.
“This was your blankie,” she tells me. “You carried this around with you everywhere you went until you were five.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I almost tear up. “What else is in the bag?”
“Oh! Here you go. I kept it all these years.”
