while, but he wasn’t a problem.”
“Were you a problem?”
“I …” I swallowed and reached forward for my cup of tea from Jolie’s. “I was a bad kid, I guess.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“After the accident, my mom was always pissed at me about something,” I admitted easily, surprised that the words could tumble out without any resistance. “I was a troublemaker, and I guess she’d had enough.”
“A troublemaker, huh?” Dr. Travetti smiled fondly.
“Well, yeah,” I chuckled tightly, forcing myself to nod. “I mean, after all, it was my troublemaking that fucked everything up in the first place.”
Dr. Travetti tipped her head back and studied me with a concerned gaze. “It’s a long time to be carrying the blame for an accident you caused as a child, don’t you think?”
I scoffed and shook my head, but then I wondered about that. Was it too long? Had I really been a troublemaker or such a bad kid? There’d been the accident that had changed it all, yes, and it was unforgiveable, I got that. But don’t all kids have their bad moments? They all have a bad day, they all throw their tantrums, and I didn’t doubt that I had a few of my own under my belt. But I couldn’t remember an incident that ever warranted the title. Bad Kid. Troublemaker.
Except that one.
I kept thinking about it periodically as the weeks went by. Another seed had been planted. It was something else to keep my brain busy while I worked, or tried to sleep alone in my bed. But never while I was with Audrey. Shit never got to me when I was with her, at her place or mine, with Jake and Freddy, or without. As much as I had resisted her pull in the beginning, I gave in to it now and silently begged to be sucked in further, into a place where I felt more and more at home.
By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, she and I had fallen into a routine. Our weekdays were spent grabbing lunch, sometimes with Celia, sometimes without. A few nights a week, we had dinner with Jake and Freddy, and come the weekend, when we were both free of responsibilities, we dated as a couple. Sometimes we went out, had dinner, and went to the poetry club. Other times, we just stayed in, ordered pizza, and spent more time devouring each other than eating food. But those nights were the best of my life, nights when I wrapped my limbs around her body and her skin became an extension of mine. And by the end of November, I actually believed I was deserving of this. Something good, something to be happy about, and not once did I think I was too bad for her.
“Where’s Audrey today?” Dad asked, as he carved the turkey.
“With her parents,” I answered, lifting the biscuits from the baking pan with a spatula.
“And Freddy?”
“With Jason.” My mother’s speculation about Audrey’s relationship with her ex-boyfriend had so far gone completely unfounded, and a smug grin spread across my face at the fact. I showed her, ha-ha.
Dad nodded, dropping slice after slice of white meat onto Mom’s hideous platter. “Things seem to be going well with the two of you, huh?”
“Yeah,” I admitted easily.
His smile was warm and genuine. Dad had been trying more lately. Audrey seemed to have that effect on him, too. “That’s great, Blake. Really, I’m happy for you. It’s about time you found someone to make you happy, and—”
Mom hurried into the kitchen in a flurry of aggravation with Jake hot on her heels holding his Gremlins DVD. “Jakey, I already told you. We are not putting the TV on right before dinner. It’s not happening, so stop asking.” She turned to pin my gaze with hers. “And I don’t want to hear anything out of you about it, okay? So, don’t even think about it.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I muttered. Then, I looked to Jake and said, “Hey, buddy, Dad’s cutting the turkey, okay? We’re going to eat in just a few minutes. But I promise, right after you’re done, I’ll put Gremlins on.”
Jake clutched the box in his hands, eyeing the turkey Dad was almost finished carving. “You promise?”
“Yeah, I promise.” Then, I laid the spatula down and extended a hand toward him. “Here, I’ll even pinkie swear on it.”
Grinning, Jake wrapped his littlest finger around mine and we shook. “Pinkie swear,” he declared in a bellow and laid the DVD down on the counter before heading