Say You'll Remember Me(67)

She popped it in the tape player.

“I was thinking we could drive with the top down since the sun’s not up yet,” she said.

“Sure.”

It was in the twenties in Minnesota. We’d already had snow. But here it was seventy-two. The air was perfect and the freeway was empty so early on a Saturday. It felt apocalyptic, like we were the last people alive.

Sometimes with her, I did feel like we were the last people alive.

She hit play and Jon Secada came on. I hadn’t heard this song in a decade. “Just Another Day Without You.” It came out of the lone speaker and she held my hand between us while the wind blew through my hair and we cruised down the freeway.

I think this was the only time driving the Dart wasn’t a bad idea. This was the small witching hour that it had been built for. The moment was perfection. A closing scene in a movie where they drive off into the sunrise.

My mind felt shriveled up. I was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. But at least I was here.

For now.





30





SAMANTHA


HE SLEPT FOR almost six hours. I didn’t want to wake him up.

He didn’t look good. He had dark circles under his eyes. I just wanted to tuck him in and put him to bed.

I wanted to keep him.

I didn’t even care that he was unconscious. I was just glad he was here. That I could cuddle up to him and hear him breathing and feel the warmth of his body. Even Pooter seemed to understand it was nap time. She was quiet and curled up next to him like me.

When he finally started to stir, it was almost one in the afternoon.

He rolled over, still half asleep, and saw me. He looked almost surprised, like he didn’t remember where he was. Then he grabbed me and pulled me into a sleepy hug that smelled like his laundry detergent and his skin.

“I was dreaming I was at work,” he said groggily. “Then I woke up and it was like I teleported. What time is it?” he asked.

“Twelve forty-seven.”

He groaned. “You should have woken me up.”

“No way.”

Pooter climbed over me on a mission to get to my boyfriend now that he was awake. She didn’t want me. I picked her up before she made it and dangled her over my face. “Really? When your daddy met you, he wanted to kill you.”

Xavier took her from me and laid her on his chest. “Well, to be fair, you didn’t have a butthole, sweetie.”

I laughed.

He checked her gums while he was petting her. Looked in her ears. It was so cute. Always on.

He handed me back my purring cat, kissed my forehead, and got up. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Then we can go do whatever you want.”

I propped myself on my elbows. “We need to get something for Mom’s dinner.”

“Okay. And I haven’t eaten anything since pretzels on the plane. Can we stop somewhere?”

“In-N-Out?”

“Sounds good.” He turned for the bathroom.

“Xavier…”

He looked back at me.

“You talked in your sleep,” I said.

His brow furrowed. “I did?”

“Yeah.” I smiled wryly.

“What did I say?”

“You whispered ‘come on Eileen.’”

A grin spread across his face.

“What do you think you wanted me to do?” I asked, tilting my head.

“The same thing I always want you to do. I want you to look at me the way you look at mustard.”

I laughed and he gave me one of his rare, dazzling full smiles.

Then he closed the door.





31





XAVIER


ARE YOU FREAKING kidding me?” Samantha said, staring at me.

I’d just told her about my mother’s call.

We were sitting at In-N-Out. She’d been holding the same french fry for five minutes while I told the story.

She shook her head. “What is up with this entire generation of aging adults who refuse to accept responsibility for themselves? Seriously, what is it? I could never imagine my kid not talking to me for a decade and me not going ‘Hey, maybe it’s me?’”

I snorted.

“And for them to believe they were in the right and to say it with their whole chest like beating the crap out of a child is in any way justifiable.” She looked disgusted. “I hope you never at any point bought anything they were selling.”

“I didn’t,” I said.

“No wonder you were so tired when you got here. They probably sucked the energy from your soul.” She ate the fry. “Do you think if they apologized, you would have been open to it?” she asked. “Like, if they came from a genuine place, they understood what they did wrong and they were honestly remorseful for it?”

I thought about it. “I don’t know. That possibility is so far from anything I could ever expect, it’s hard for me to even conceptualize it.”

She studied me. “I think you would have accepted an apology.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you’re reasonable. And I think you want peace. I’d want revenge, but you’re a much better person than me.”