I think I might bawl like a toddler, right here and right now.
I’d known this was all possible, Scott’s dropping anchor in our lives, but suddenly everything was happening too fast.
Out of nowhere, another awful thought came at me. If Scott put down roots, would that serve to further oust my father from my life? Would he see it as a reason to become even more absentee than he already was?
“Um.” I tried for a smile and nodded. Like, a lot. Nodded as if my head might fall off my neck because it was so untethered. “I mean, it sounds amazing, but I think I have to work. You guys should totally go, though.”
I saw my mom’s face fall. It’d always just been an expression—“her face fell”—until that moment. Her wide smile dropped into a weak horizonal line, and the squint of her eyes went away, leaving her wide-eyed with disappointed surprise. Her voice was thick when she said, “Surely you can get someone to work for you.”
“They’re actually kind of short-staffed,” I lied, hating myself but hating Scott more. “But I can check.”
“I’d love to teach you to ski,” Scott said, smiling. “If you want to learn, that is.”
I looked at my mom. She knew I’d wanted to learn when I was little, and it felt like a betrayal that she’d obviously told him. I curled my fingers into balls and said, “Yeah, um, I’d love to, but I don’t think it’s probably going to work this time.”
“Come on, Bay,” he said, tilting his head and talking to me like we were buddies. “It’ll be epic, I promise. Just blow off work—you’ll never hear me say that again—and come with us.”
Us. I was getting so damn sick of him referring to himself and my mother as the us, when my mother and I were the us and he was just the dude who wouldn’t go away. I breathed in through my nose and said, “Maybe next time.”
My mom said, “Bailey, I don’t think—”
“I don’t want to go, okay?” I hadn’t meant to, but I snapped at her. I didn’t know where it came from, but I also didn’t want to take it back, either. I pressed my lips together before saying, “I have to go study.”
I went into my room and closed my door, feeling like garbage. For yelling at my mom, for disappointing them about the trip, and mostly for the inescapable fact that things were definitely progressing with Scott and pretty soon his presence in our life would be constant.
I could feel it now.
I blinked back tears—stupid, immature tears—and wondered when life would stop changing up on me.
I flopped down onto my bed and turned on the TV with the remote.
“Bailey.” My mom knocked on my door like I knew she would, because we weren’t the kind of people who could just let it lie. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She came in, and I knew she was going to make me. I just knew she was going to make me vacation with Scott, and I didn’t know what to do. It surely wasn’t that big a deal—a weekend away—but I remembered what Charlie said the first time we talked on the phone.
He’s only going to advance and take more space.
“Are you okay?” She closed the door behind her, came over, and sat down on the edge of my bed. “It’s not like you to snap like that.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, meaning that part of it. I looked at her face—the blue eyes, the pale eyebrows, the mouth that had said everything I’d ever needed to hear for the whole of my life—and I felt desperate. It was so babyish, but I felt a desperation to hold tight to our us.
“I don’t get it, Bay,” she said, reaching out to run a hand over my hair. “He was so excited when he got the idea because he wants to get to know you better. He thought it could be a relaxed way to just have some fun together.”
“I know,” I said, trying to come up with words that didn’t make things worse between her and me. “But I just don’t feel ready to go on a vacation with him yet.”
“It’s not like that,” my mom said, crossing her arms. She was wearing her I’m the problem T-shirt, the one she’d bought the day after Midnights came out. “It’s just a casual, fun weekend where we get out of town. No bigs.”
“Just the three of us?” I asked, bracing myself for the mention of a daughter.
“Well,” she said, pursing her lips. “I suppose if you wanted to take Nekesa, that would be okay.”
“Really?” She’d obviously misunderstood what I was asking, but God, if I could take Nekesa, that might make it okay. She and I could ditch them and have fun in Colorado, and even when we were all together, it wouldn’t feel as much like a forced family event. “I could?”
She shrugged, and I felt a little guilty that she was having to make concessions. “I don’t see why not. The condo has two bedrooms and a pullout sofa in the living room, so as long as she doesn’t mind the couch, I think it’d be fine.”
“Wow.” I pushed my hair out of my face, relief flooding through me. “That will make it so much, um, I mean, a little bit less…”
I had no idea how to put it into words without making her feel bad about Scott.
“I get it, Bay,” she said, and I could tell that she did. Which made me hug her, because as much as I didn’t dig Scott, I also loved my mom and didn’t want to make her unhappy.
It was a fucking terrible tightrope of guilt to walk.
I grabbed my phone and texted Nekesa as soon as my mom left the room.
How would you like to go to Colorado?
I was getting whiplash from my own emotions, but as I waited for her response, I realized that if she was able to go, I was actually a little excited for a Colorado getaway.
Only if she can go.
Yes, Scott would be there, but Nekesa always made everything better, and I knew this would be no exception.
Nekesa: I am packing my plaid shirt and Docs as we speak.
That made me smile as I walked over to my dresser. You think I’m kidding but I’m not. Scott is taking me and my mom to Breck for a weekend and they said you can come.
Nekesa: I thought we hated Scott.
That response made me feel like garbage, and I texted: We don’t hate HIM, we just hate the way he’s weaseling into our lives.
Nekesa: That doesn’t sound very different from what I said.
I texted: So are you coming or not???
Nekesa: Let me ask my mom. BRB.
I held my breath as I dug for mountain-wear, and then I squealed when Nekesa came back with: When do we leave??
The next morning, even though the sight of Crew Socks in the kitchen made me as irritated as ever, I thanked him for the trip.
“It’s nice of you to invite us and to let me bring a friend,” I said, genuinely meaning that. My mom was the one who threw out the Nekesa option, not Scott, and he easily could’ve said no or been a dick about it.
Instead, he smiled and said between bites of his everything bagel, “The more the merrier. Only… no more. That’s plenty. The four the merriest and no others…”
“Rolls off the tongue,” I said, which made him laugh.
As he walked out the door, he texted me a link to the condo on Vrbo so Nekesa and I could look at the pictures, which led to an hour-long FaceTime where we discussed outfits, activities, and logistics.