In A Holidaze - Christina Lauren Page 0,73
though I think scotch tastes like fiery butthole, I pour some into a tumbler and toast it to the dying embers before tilting it to my lips and downing it in one go.
I need sleep, and more than that, I need to escape my own head.
• • •
I’m awake with a sore back and droopy heart just when the sun starts to peek over the lip of the mountain. With a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I shuffle into the kitchen, brew a pot of coffee, and sit and wait for the inevitable: an awkward morning with the father of two people I’ve kissed.
Ricky shuffles in. “Maelyn,” he says quietly. “You and me are two peas in a pod.”
But then he doesn’t finish.
He pours coffee, sits with a groan, and closes his eyes for a few deep breaths. “You okay, hon?”
“Not really.”
He nods, taking a sip. “You and Andrew okay?”
“Not really.”
He nods again, studies the tabletop. “You and Theo okay?” When I don’t respond, he says, “Let me guess. ‘Not really.’”
I lean my head on my folded arms and whimper. “I messed everything up. Today is going to be so weird.”
“You didn’t mess everything up.” He sets his mug down. “And even if you did, you’re in the middle of a group of people who were experts at messing things up long before you came around.”
I look up at him. “What are you talking about? You and Lisa have been together forever. Mom and Dad were married for twenty-four years.”
“Sure, that’s how it looks to you kids.” He catches himself. “Guess you aren’t really kids anymore, are you?”
This makes me laugh, just a little. “No.”
He sniffs, scratching his jaw. “Well, the good has stretched out a long way past the bad, but everyone makes mistakes in their twenties. Hell, even in their thirties.” He pauses and meets my eyes across the table. “And maybe their forties and fifties, too.”
“I’ll be honest, the idea of you ever being emotionally messy is . . . like, it does not compute.”
Ricky laughs at this. “You know your mom and Lisa were roommates. Your dad, Benny, Aaron, and I all lived on the same floor our freshman year, in the dorm. We were immediately close, spent all our free time together,” he says, and I knew that part already, but what he says next blows my mind: “Lisa and Benny were an item for a few weeks before she and I started dating. If I remember right, I think she and I started up before they really ended things.”
I pull my eyebrows back onto my forehead. “I’m sorry, what?”
He nods. “You think that wasn’t messy?”
There is so much here that requires mental realignment, the only thing I can think to say is “Benny had a girlfriend? And she was Lisa?”
Ricky laughs. “He did.”
“But—you guys are still so close.”
He stares at me in tender wonder. “Of course we are, honey. That was thirty-plus years ago. When the friendship is worth it, people work through things. Like with your parents. We’ve survived that because of how much we truly value each other’s friendships.”
“So what happened?” I ask. “Back in college?”
He sips his coffee as he thinks. “The specifics are pretty fuzzy, but if I remember right, Benny was more upset that we weren’t honest about it than anything else. It was a month or two, maybe, of him hanging out with some other friends, but he came back around. We were meant to be family.”
The timing is perfect—or maybe it’s terrible. The back door creaks open, boots stomp in the mudroom, and then Andrew steps into the kitchen.
“Mornin’, Drew.” Ricky brings his mug to his lips and winks at me. I’d smile back, but keeping my face from crumpling is currently requiring all my focus.
Andrew pours a cup of coffee and looks like he’s going to turn back and return to the Boathouse. But his father stops him.
“Come sit with us.”
I close my eyes and try to pretend I’m invisible.
Andrew looks over his shoulder, giving a warning “Dad.”
“Well, at least say ‘Good morning.’ ”
“Good morning.” With a flicker of pain in his eyes that I know is a conflicted blend of guilt and anger, Andrew ducks back outside.
Ricky rumbles a sigh into his coffee. “It’ll be okay. Things always look worse from the inside.”
• • •
No matter how much I want Ricky to be right—that I haven’t ruined everything, that it will all be okay—I can’t see how we get there from here. Theo absorbs himself