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"God, I hope there's lots of hot island guys to play with. I mean, if push comes to shove, I can still go for the teachers, but it would be nice to have a few hot guys my age to corrupt.”
"Daisy," I chastise, my mind instantly flipping to the rumor I heard about my sister and one of the football assistant coaches at our current high school.
She'd been dating the quarterback of the team at the time those rumors had spread around, but she hadn't seemed the least bit ruffled about them. I’m not sure why I never asked her if they were true or not. I guess it’s because I was afraid of what her answer would be.
"It’ll be good to have a fresh start," she whispers more seriously.
I want to agree with her. I want to think that things could and will be different. But I’ve always hated lying to myself.
"I wonder what Dad’s going to think about all this."
"Who the fuck cares," Daisy scoffs.
While I’ve always made sure I was available when our dad deigned to give us the smallest hint of attention, Daisy isn't quite so agreeable. Which is kind of strange because I feel like they are both cut from the same cloth. Of course, unlike our dad, Daisy is infinitely more loyal to the people she truly cares about. No one can deny there’s the same wildness about them, a devil-may-care attitude that Daisy certainly didn’t get from our mom. Still, my sister has never been a fan of our father. Maybe when two people are too much alike they end up repelling each other, unable to stomach seeing their flaws staring back at them.
"Get some sleep, Sky," she orders, no longer in the mood to talk now that I brought up our dad.
Instead of going back to her room, she makes herself comfortable in my bed. I don't ask her to leave, since I kind of like her being here when Mom is on a night shift. It doesn’t take long for her soft breaths to echo around the room. Meanwhile, I continue to lie here, staring at the ceiling for answers I’ll never get tonight.
"Sky," Daisy hisses, and I blink as I stare at her, realizing that I’ve walked into the courtroom with everyone without even realizing I was doing it. However, I must have stopped halfway across the aisle, while everyone else had made their way to the front to stand in front of the judge.
My mom didn't seem to notice though, since she’s too preoccupied holding hands with Curt and staring lovingly into his eyes. I wonder how long it’ll take before she seesusagain. How long will the haze of lust and love cloud her vision to anyone but him? Is that what love does? Makes you forget everyone in existence after you’ve met theone? Lose yourself in him so completely that you can’t focus on all the other things that matter to you? If that’s love, then maybe we’re all better off without it.
Begrudgingly, I hustle over and take my spot next to Daisy, staring at the thread-worn carpet that needs to be updated. As a throat clears, I glance up to find Curt now staring over his shoulder at Noah, who, of course, is on his phone.
"Son," he states exasperatedly.
Noah lifts his phone, clicking the camera, and signaling he’s taking a picture.
"Just trying to capture the moment. Who knows how many of these you’ll get." Curt turns back to the judge, shaking his head, right as Noah whispers under his breath, “Mom is probably rolling in her grave. Hope you're fucking happy."
I was apparently the only one paying close enough attention to him to hear his whispered comment, because there’s no shocked inhales. Curt never even flinches at the remark.
When the judge starts speaking, I try to concentrate on his words, instead of appearing dumbfounded that everyone is so wrapped up in this wedding that they don’t pick up on the somber vibe Noah is giving off. While Curt and Mom hold each other’s hands tightly, gazing dreamily into one another’s faces, Noah hangs his head, returning to his phone. As the judge talks about true love, my attention keeps straying to Noah, who’s typing feverishly on his phone. It’s only when his hand tilts that I realize he’s playing Candy Crush.
Well, okay then.
“Clara, will you please repeat this vow after me,” the judge announces.
“I, Clara, take you, Curt, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. I promise to love and cherish you for all of my days,” my mom repeats.
A tear trails down her face and I feel the same moisture building in my eyes. I’m not sure that I’m experiencing quite the same mix of emotions as she is at the moment…but there’s definitely some happiness built in for her along with everything else.
“I, Curt, take you, Clara, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. I promise to love and cherish you for all of my days,” repeats Curt, his voice trembling with his own emotion.
Unable to stop myself, I glance at Noah again, wondering if he’s turned his attention to his dad at all in this defining moment. But nope, he’s still intent on finishing his game.
I guess we can all be glad he deigned to put his phone on silent so we don’t have to hear the irritating music of his game.
It’s time to exchange rings when I turn my attention back to the happy couple. Daisy is handing Mom Curt’s wedding band. Curt clears his throat in annoyance as he holds out his hand to Noah, presumably waiting for him to hand over Mom’s ring.
“Here you go,” Noah drawls, his gaze filled with displeasure as he drops the blue velvet box in his father’s hand.
Curt’s eyes flash at Noah’s insolent tone, but he says nothing as he takes the ring from Noah’s hand and gives him a tap on his shoulder. I can tell it’s a little heavier than a friendly clap would be, but from the little I know of Noah, he’s probably done or said something that deserves a smack upside the head by his father, so I’m impressed with Curt’s restraint.
Noah turns back around towards my mom, and I watch as his hands clench into fists, so hard that his knuckles turn white. His face is an almost green color, and the disinterest in his gaze has faded to one of…abject sorrow.
And still…I’m the only one who seems to notice.
