I can feel how wide my eyes are. How tightly my jaw clenches even as I try so hard to keep the panic from showing. I haven’t talked to him since that game back in November. He’s called and texted and I’ve ignored and ignored and now it’s so awkward I kind of want to puke.
I glance at Cauler, almost naked in my bed, lying on his stomach with the pillow bunched under his chin. There’s concern on his face that I don’t deserve. Not with so many people out there who have much worse parents than me.
“Mickey? You hear me?” Dad asks.
I turn my attention back to him and try to speak, but my voice gets stuck in my throat. I clear it and try again. “Yeah. Hi.”
“I’m glad you picked up. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah.”
Dad opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything at first, looking like he feels just as uncomfortable as I do. He takes a deep breath, and when he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, I can almost see myself in him. I’m not as good at masking my discomfort as I used to be.
“So…” He still doesn’t look at me, keeping his eyes down or off to the side, anywhere but my face. “There was a lot I wanted to talk to you about. But I think it’d be better to do it in person. Your sisters are flying out in the morning. How would you feel about joining them?”
I feel repulsed, that’s how I feel.
“Little late to buy a ticket,” I say.
“I already took care of it. Why do you think I called so much?”
My bed creaks as Cauler sits up, and I look over to see him settle with his back against the wall, head tilted back, staring at Dorian’s side of the room. I can’t read his face. Is that disappointment or impatience? Maybe he’s just hungry.
I don’t know him at all. But here I was planning to go meet his family.
I swallow, bite the inside of my cheek.
I’ll get to see my sisters. All of them. That’s the only positive here.
“How long?” I ask.
“I want you here as long as you can be.”
I put my face in my hands and sigh heavily. My chest aches. I can barely process what’s happening. Seven-plus years being my freaking long-distance hockey coach and now he’s trying to be a dad?
But … I want it. I want the chance to have a family again.
I rub my hands over my face. Rake them through my hair. My voice croaks when I say, “Okay.”
Dad smiles, his shoulders sagging in relief. As if I even had a choice when he already went and bought a ticket behind my back.
“Great,” he says all breathlessly. “Bailey has the flight information. It’s an early one. Get some sleep.”
He signs off so quick it’s like he had his finger hovering over the button this whole time. I stare at the screen for a solid ten seconds before Cauler says, “You okay?”
I push myself to my feet. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s your family.”
He watches me as I swap out his pants for my own and finish getting dressed. Doesn’t try to interfere, which is good ’cause I can’t handle shit right now.
“Gonna get my bags outta Zero’s car,” I say.
“Want help?”
“No.” I zip my jacket all the way to my chin. Hide in my hood. Leave him behind. Pull out my phone and immediately message Bailey.
Mickey: This is your fault.
Bailey: Yep.
Mickey: Fuck you bailey.
Bailey: Get over yourself mickey.
You’ve been ignoring him for weeks.
I was on the phone with him for over an
hour last night with him panicking
about how if he didn’t get to talk to you soon he’d probably never get a chance to fix things As if anything needs to be fixed.
Mickey: A lot more than you think Bailey: Well congrats now you have a chance to air out all your petty childish grievances Mickey: I hate you
Bailey: I know how much you like to pretend you’ve had some horrible life full of endless suffering but it’s time to grow up mickey.
Mom and dad love you.
That’s a lot more than other people get.
Mickey: Real easy for you to say.
Our parents actually raised you.
TWENTY-FIVE
North Carolina is colder than I expected, and all I brought was a Royals windbreaker. I cross my arms and hike my shoulders to my ears, but it doesn’t help much. Bailey’s wearing gym shorts, and I hope she gets frostbite on her knees. She lived in Raleigh. She should know better.
Madison picks us up from the airport, and as happy as I am to see her again, I can’t freaking stand how hyper the three of them get when all I wanna do is put my head against the window and fall asleep. Madison doesn’t even need a GPS. She’s paying more attention to Delilah in her rearview mirror and Bailey in the passenger seat than the road, but she knows exactly when to turn, exactly when to slow down before a speed trap. She’s lived here so long, she probably considers this home more than Buffalo.