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“Yes… lots of things scare me.”
“Name one.”
“Gemma doesn’t need to name anything,” I intervened, trying to alleviate the mood with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders.
“Sure she does. What scares the girl if not monsters?”
Gemma thought for a moment, staring out the window, taking a small but noticeable breath. “I don’t know… thunderstorms scare me.”
“Thunderstorms?” Mila laughed. “That’s classic. Horror movies don’t do it, but a bunch of noisy clouds do?”
Gemma continued to look away as I stared at her, forgetting how long it had been since I looked at the road. She remained quiet, her fear of thunder was a long-known fact. Even as kids in the Hamptons we would share the same big bed in the largest room of the house, cuddling during any storm that came our way. I’d hug her while sleeping back then, just as I would now if she needed it, as if I could resist.
“Well, there’s a chance of rain tonight, so you may be in for something spooky.” Mila’s taunt garnered no reaction from Gemma. She turned to me and asked the same question. “And what about you, Frankenstein? What are you afraid of?”
The simple question felt much heavier on my mind than I assumed she expected. I feared a lot of things, but what I feared the most was the same thing I did the day I broke down Gemma’s bedroom door. What I was scared of, and what I was absolutely terrified of, was a life without her.
“The future,” I answered, focusing towards the back seat until Gemma caught me looking. My heart pounded in my teeth, her attention like lights that caught me stealing in the dark as I refused to look away. We stared at each other, holding a gaze—
“PARKER! Watch out!” Mila’s sudden shout redirected me back to the road, causing me to turn the steering wheel sharply to the left.
We skidded loudly, the brakes screeching throughout the entirety of my ears as we swerved out of the way of a passing skunk. My harsh slam of the brakes halted our speed, yanking our bodies forward in unison as we came to a powerful stop.
I shouted, then cursed under my breath, “Fuck…”
We all sat quietly, numb to the now displaced cheer of “Monster Mash” that finished in the background. The car hummed, the engine much calmer than the rest of us.
“What the hell was that? Jesus, Parker, you won’t need to be afraid of the future if you keep driving like that!” Mila’s face was absolutely red as she pulled off her NYU sweater. I guess she was hot now.
Outside I watched as the skunk made its way to the other end of the road, its tail stiff in the air like a flagpole. The brief and awkward silence was interrupted as Gemma began to laugh uncontrollably. My chest continued to pound, filled with adrenaline, my hands borderline shaking from the moment. But Gemma’s laugh made me grin, until it made me smile. Spontaneously, I started to laugh too, unable to escape the contagiousness of her voice that eluded Mila.
“You two are so ridiculous!” Mila rested her head against the passenger window, exhaling a loud huff.
I pulled back onto the street, turning the corner to the last stretch of road that led to my parents’ house. I could see it in the distance as Gemma continued to laugh.
“I can’t disagree with what you’re saying, Camilla.” Gemma smiled. “Parker and I are just too similar.” She noted, an indisputable fact that made Mila’s face still in contemplation.
Up ahead, Mom stood behind the large, gated entrance that concealed the sprawling beach front estate. She waved beside the white hydrangeas and tall cypress hedges, her high cheekbones creased in a smile as she sipped on a sangria. Gemma rolled down the window as the gate began to open.
“Bonjour mademoiselle!”Gemma placed her finger above her lip, pretending it was a mustache, affecting a French accent. It was an odd exchange that her and my mom had, another quirk and greeting they shared amongst many others.
“Bonjour ma Patate!”Mom replied, howling into a laugh.
“Patate?” Mila asked, escaping the attention of a now distracted Gemma.
“It means potato,” I explained as I pulled forward, passing my mom and up into the driveway. “It’s a whole thing between them, with potatoes, actually. This is just another character of theirs… a French fry or something.”
“Potatoes?” Mila sat confused.
“I love them,” Gemma answered as we parked. “We all do.” She reached over to the cup holder. “We even like banana taffy,” she added, lifting one out for herself before jumping out of the car. She shut the door, and I could hear her and Mom laugh as they met for a hug.
For a moment, it was just Mila and me, alone for the first time the whole trip. Outside was loud and fun, but here in the SUV, it grew quiet.
“I didn’t know you liked banana taffy,” Mila spoke softly.
“I do.”
“I also didn’t know you liked comic books as a kid, or how you earned your own money, or that you even got a scholarship.” Mila looked down at the sweater in her hands, fidgeting with its tag before looking up towards Mom. I couldn’t tell if she was nervous about meeting her, or instead, sad about knowing so little about who I was. “I also didn’t know you were afraid of the future…” Suddenly, she seemed more somber, and the shift in mood made me worry about what was happening. More than anything I wanted to do what was right and deliver the information gently to Mila, but somehow I always made things worse. Was this cruel, worse than leaving her home with no plumbing? I wasn’t sure anymore, and now it made me feel sick.
