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“We’re taking a last-minute trip. We’ve been wanting to go to Thailand for ages, so we figured, why not now?”
“A trip,” I say, as if the words could have a different meaning if I say them right. “How long?”
“Haven’t decided yet. A month, maybe a few. She’ll come back to have the baby, of course. Harley doesn’t have a job, as you know, and my job loves me so much they’ll let me have all the time off I want. There couldn’t be a better time than now.”
“A few months?” I snap. “OK. You really have to let me talk to her. This is all happening so fast, for Christ’s sake!”
“I know.” Her voice is sympathetic, but firm. “And the last thing Harley ever wanted to do was to pressure you. She feels like she overstepped herself last night. She doesn’t want to be a burden or to endanger your company.”
“She…” I fall-sit onto my office chair, stare at the door. “Hannah, listen to me. Just put her on—or I swear to God, I’ll come there myself—”
“You don’t know what gate we’re at,” she points out cheerily, “but fine, I’ll ask her and see what she says.”
Muffled voices. I twist back and forth in my chair, back and forth, back and forth.
“Greyson?” Sleepy voice. Sad? Happy?
“Harley, hey, I… you’re really going away?”
“Yeah. Now might be my last chance, before… well, you know.”
“I wanted to talk to you. See you.”
“Well. We’re talking now.”
“What if I wanted to try it?”
Her pause is too long to be promising. “It?”
“Us.”
“Greyson, don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“How do you know I don’t mean it?”
“Because it’s not something that takes almost 24 hours of thought! Either you know you want to be with someone or you don’t. It’s that simple.”
“Maybe it’s not like that with everyone.”
Another pause that makes me want to chuck my phone at the wall. “Greyson, I saw you.”
“What do you mean you saw me?”
“I saw your face when I told you. There was no excitement, no happiness. You were just stunned, scared.”
“Of course I was. This is a fucking baby we’re talking about. Being a father is a big fucking deal. Of course I was scared—am scared—aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but… you already ended things with me, OK? I don’t want you being pressured into getting back together with me just because of this. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”
“Why can’t you believe me when I say that I want to be with you?”
When she finally speaks again, her voice is a teary whisper. “Because I don’t think even you knew what you were going to say until you called me up. I think you waited this long because you couldn’t decide. I don’t think you know, even now.”
“Harley…”
“Not wanting to lose someone isn’t the same as wanting to be with someone,” she says.
“Goodbye Greyson,” she says.
“I wish you nothing but the best,” she says.
And then, she hangs up.
I sit there, staring at the wall.
Not wanting to lose someone isn’t the same as wanting to be with someone…
Goddamnit.
That’s what it was with my dad and mom, by the end. He didn’t want to be with her, not really. All they did was fight and criticize and make up for half an hour, if that. But when the prospect of losing her arose, he did everything in his power, fought tooth and nail to get her back. Only to mistreat and cheat on her, often in the very same week.
He didn’t want to be with her, but he didn’t want anyone else with her either.
Is that what this is about? Have I become my dad? Do I not want Harley, I just don’t want to lose her? I already gave her up once, why should this be any different?
I’ve never particularly wanted one way or another to be a dad. Only, when I’m with her…
Time ebbs away. Things just work. I smile so big I feel like an idiot. I forget everything I’m supposed to do.
I get up from my chair. I know what I want to do. I know what I have to do.
Too bad they aren’t the same thing.Chapter 34Harley
“Flight 45 to Bangkok is now boarding. All passengers in Aisles A-H, please line up immediately,” the grouch-faced stewardess intones overhead.
“Almost time.” Hannah nudges me with a grin.
“Yep,” I agree.
“What do you think Anchovy is doing at Roger’s right now?” she asks.
“Honestly?” I say. “Probably revenge pooping all over that poor man’s house.”
“Good thing he loves me,” Hannah says with a small smile.
“And is joining us in a few weeks,” I add. “Annnnd has a sister who actually likes ferrets. I just wish we could’ve taken Anchovy with us.”
“No, you don’t.” Hannah wags a stern finger at me. “Even on road trips, Anchovy’s MO is to start projectile vomiting everywhere.”
“Little ferret vomit is actually cute?” I try.
