Next thing she knows, she’s getting fucked by that asshole. And I can see it. I can see it all in my head, and there’s no way I can let that happen.
I can’t.
I won’t.
FOURTEEN
WREN
“I’m so sorry, Pumpkin, but I won’t be able to make it tomorrow for the exhibit.”
“Wait, what? Are you serious?” I clutch the phone closer to my ear, my fingers cramping, I’m holding it so tightly. “I only came home so we could go together.”
“I know, and I wish I had a different answer for you, but something else came up,” my father says.
I flop onto the blue velvet couch in the living room, hating how hard it is. How stiff. Like everything else in this cold, sterile apartment my parents live in. “What suddenly came up?”
“I’m meeting with some clients this evening for dinner,” he says, his voice smooth. “You know how it is.”
How it always is. For some reason though, it feels like he’s lying. “On a Friday night?”
“I work seven days a week. You know this.” He sounds irritated, and I immediately feel terrible for even doubting him.
“I know, you’re right. I’m just—disappointed.” I close my eyes, letting the emotion wash over me. The entire week hasn’t gone well and I was so looking forward to seeing this exhibit tomorrow.
For once, I just wanted something to work in my favor.
“I’m disappointed too, Pumpkin. Maybe we can go another time. I’d love to see her exhibit.”
“It’s over at the end of the year,” I remind him. “And this weekend was the best time for me. I have finals to prepare for, and then it’s Christmas. My birthday.”
“Maybe we could go the week between Christmas and New Year’s?” he suggests.
“But that’s my birthday week. I might have plans.”
With who, I’m not even sure anymore.
He chuckles. “Right. My little girl loves to string out her birthday for as long as possible.”
Only my father would make me feel bad for something he started in the first place. When I turned ten, he made such a big deal about my birthday, trying to make it special considering I share the day with the one of the most major holidays of the year. He kept my tenth birthday celebration going for days, much to my mother’s not-so-secret annoyance. It’s been a tradition ever since.
“What sort of plans do you have?” he asks when I still haven’t said anything.
“I wanted to go out of town,” I admit, realizing there really isn’t anyone I want to go with me anymore. I was thinking about asking Maggie, but she’s still not talking to me after the Fig incident, so what would be the point? She probably hates me, and she was my last real friend.
“Where were you thinking of going? Somewhere warm?”
“Actually, I was looking at somewhere in the mountains with lots of snow. It sounds cozy, staying in a log cabin and drinking hot chocolate by the fire.” Saying the words out loud, I’m sure I sound like a foolish little girl.
“You don’t want to go somewhere tropical? Most people want to go to the beach during the winter. What about Aruba?”
A tropical vacation means bikinis and lots of skin. Guys leering at me and my chest. I hate having them on display. They’re just so…big.
“I don’t want to go to Aruba, Daddy,” I say, my voice small.
“Okay. That’s fine. How about I have Veronica look up some locations for you? She can do a little research, find a couple of options for you to look over,” he suggests.
“Who’s Veronica?”
“My assistant. She started a few months ago. I know I told you about her.”
“Oh. Okay. Yes, sure. That would be nice.”
“Just trying to help you, Pumpkin. I know you’re busy with school with finals and all of your end-of-the-semester projects. Veronica is really great at making travel arrangements. She handles mine all the time.”
“Thank you. That would be great.” I really wanted to plan this trip on my own, but it’s like no one can let me do anything by myself. And I allow it to happen. “I’m thinking I might go to the exhibit tomorrow.”
“With your mother?”
“No. She probably wouldn’t want to go with me.” I tried talking to her about this particular artist a few weeks ago, when I first heard about the showing, but she wasn’t interested.
She’s rarely interested in anything I do lately.