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“So, what do you know? Or rather, what all did Mia tell you?”
“We haven’t spoken much since that night. She’s called me, but there weren’t many details. She still claims you made a move, stripped her down, and then climbed into the back seat with her and started messing around.”
I cringe at his words. The mere thought of that happening sickens me.
“Fucking hell, Drew,” I mutter, brushing my palms along the thighs of my jeans. “I never touched her.”
“I can’t say I’d be surprised if that’s the truth. But Mia has no reason to lie.”
“Mia doesn’t need a damn reason to lie, Drew! She’s a psycho! She wanted to hurt you, and for some reason wanted to throw me under the bus for her own personal amusement.”
“I’m not saying I believed her. But considering your history, and then finding out you hooked up with Viola, it just made her story more believable.”
“Look, I know I’m far from perfect, and I have my fair share of fuckups when it comes to chicks, but I want to be with Viola and heronly. When I ran into Mia, she was with another guy, and he was screaming in her face. He hit me, man. I’m pretty sure my ribs were broken before the accident. I got her out of there, and she started freaking out, so I pulled over into a gas station parking lot. I tried to calm her down, and the next thing I know, she’s coming at me. I didn’t kiss her back, and I guess she felt rejected because she came up with some bullshit lie that I touched her.”
Drew’s soaking up my words as his expression tightens. I know he doesn’t want to hear about Mia being with another guy any more than I’d want to hear that about Viola, but he needs to hear the truth.
“How’d she end up naked in your back seat?”
“Once I pushed her back and told her I was in love with someone else, she got all hysterical. She was already freaking out about the fight at the diner and was feeling sick, and the next thing I know, she pukes all over herself. I gave her my shirt to clean up, but it was all over her dress. I told her to lie down in the back and settle her stomach. I didn’t have any blankets, so she just took the dress off.”
He nods as I finish the story. “I don’t remember anything after that, but I swear on my life that I would never touch Mia. Viola owns my heart, and I’m pretty sure she always has.”
He looks up and smiles at me. “Well, you better be sure to win her back then.”
“Trust me. I won’t stop until I do.”
Over the weekend, I drive up to my childhood home. I didn’t call and give my mother a heads-up because I kept changing my mind. The closer I got, the more nervous I felt. I hadn’t seen my dad in years, and I wasn’t sure what to expect now that he was sick, but I felt it was something I needed to do. At least for my mom’s sake.
“Travis!” she squeals the moment she opens the door and sees me. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She takes a step forward and wraps her arms around me.
I smile as she squeezes me a tad too tight. She notices I wince and quickly steps back. “Sorry, I’m just so excited you’re here.”
Shrugging with a guilty smile, I say, “Well, I figured it was finally time to come home.”
She leads me inside, and I follow. Everything looks the same, and it feels like I’m walking through a time capsule from my childhood. My father is sitting in the living room in the same chair he’s always sat in, usually with a six-pack and the remote, but this time he’s with a magazine and a glass of ice water.
“Look who came for a visit,” my mother says, grabbing his attention up to mine. His reaction is clear. He’s completely shocked, but he doesn’t make the first move to speak.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Son.” He nods. “You look good.”
“Thanks.” I follow my mother’s lead and sit on the sofa across from him. “You do, too.” The first thing I notice about my father is that he’s sober. I think it’s the first time in my life I’ve seen him sober.
“Wish I could say I feel as good as I look, but…”
“Yeah, Mom told me.” I brush a hand over my jawline. “What’s the diagnosis?”
“Stage four cancer.” He says it as casually as if I were asking him about the weather. He looks like he’s accepted the terms of his destiny, but when I glance over at my mother and see her frown, it’s obvious she hasn’t. I know she loves my father and will go through this with him until the end, but I wish he had treated her better to merit such loyalty.
We spend the afternoon talking over lunch. It’s been years since I’ve felt like I’ve had a family, and even though I still have a lot of resentment toward him, I’m glad I came. I know my mom is going to need a lot of support, whether she wants to admit it or not.
VIOLA
It’s been a week since I’ve arrived in Boston, which is beautiful in the summer, but I’m still suffering from the jet lag. The three-hour time difference has messed with my sleeping schedule, and I’m so exhausted. I’ve been struggling to wake up to my alarm every morning. I’ve also been suffering from these annoying headaches and nausea. I looked it up, and I guess it’s pretty common if you experience jet lag, so I’m hoping my body gets used to it soon. Either that or the nerves are wreaking havoc on my entire body.
Even texting Drew or Courtney is becoming a challenge. When I’m up and ready for work at eight, they’re still in bed and barely functioning. I’ve learned not to expect a response from Courtney until my lunch break.
