Almost Impossible

  “His daughter, not his sister.” I was an idiot. Why hadn’t I seen it? The signs were so obvious now that I knew.

  “Did he tell you she was his sister?”

  I was about to answer her question, when I stalled. I flipped through the memory banks, and then again, but I couldn’t recall a single time where he’d called Lily his sister.

  “He lied by omission.”

  “That doesn’t make it a lie. That makes it a secret.”

  I slammed one dresser drawer closed and tore open the next. “Whose side are you on here, Mom?” Unbelievable. Meg Abbott was defending the teenage boy with a baby.

  “Yours. Always yours, Jade.” She waited, like she was daring me to challenge her on that again. “But I’m trying to talk you through this because I know a little something about being a young parent and not exactly wanting to advertise it to everyone I came in contact with. It’s hard enough without having to deal with everyone being a judgy prick.”

  When I saw my face in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. I was a wreck. A red, puffy, disheveled hot mess. “I’m not someone he ‘came in contact with.’ I’m the person he spent the past two months with. That’s someone you’re supposed to tell if you have any offspring.”

  Mom exhaled. I could imagine the way she was rubbing at her temples. “I’m not defending him, baby. I’m trying to shed a little light on the situation. He has a child. And it sounds like he was trying to do what was best for her first and foremost. Like I did with you.” She paused to take a breath, while I kept cleaning out drawers until all I had left was the closet. “Have you given him a chance to explain why he didn’t tell you?”

  “What’s there to explain?”

  “His reasons for why he kept it from you.”

  “Because he’s a selfish jerk who wanted to have a summer fling with some girl he thought was either too naive or too stupid to figure out the truth?”

  “He chose to raise his daughter as a single parent. He’s not the selfish type, sweetie.”

  My head was hurting. Either from all the crying or from all the sense my mom was trying to make out of it. As much as I wanted to tell her she was crazy, I knew she wasn’t.

  “Mom, please, I need to leave. Today. Right now.” When I went to try to zip the suitcase closed, I realized my packing style of tossing things wasn’t working out so well. “I can’t talk about Quentin right now. I need to leave.”

  Mom was quiet for so long, I checked my phone to make sure I hadn’t lost the connection.

  “You’re throwing in the towel? You’re over the quest for a normal summer?”

  I sat down on top of the suitcase. “So over it. This whole idea was a bad one. Worst ever. I want to spend what’s left of summer with you and the band. Where are you?”

  More silence. “We just landed in Vancouver. We’ll be here for the next couple of days. But, Jade—”

  “I’m heading to the airport. I’m on the first plane I can get on.”

  “Wait. No. Have you talked to your aunt and uncle about this yet? Do they know what’s going on?” She must have taken my silence as an answer. “You need to tell them what happened and what your plan is first, Jade. You can’t run away like that without so much as an explanation. That’s not how we deal with our problems.” There was an edge in her voice, one that suggested it wasn’t only my situation she was talking about.

  “I need out of here. Right. Now.” The long side of the suitcase was zipped—one more side to go and I was free once I’d shoved what was left into my duffel.

  “After you talk to your aunt and uncle,” she warned. “That will give me time to get you a ticket booked, too.”

  I was fighting with the last part of the zipper, praying it wouldn’t bust.

  “Jade?”

  The zipper made it, finally. “Yeah, Mom. I heard ya.”

  “Good. Let me know once you’ve talked to Julie and Paul, and then I’ll let you know what flight you’re on.”

  I made a noise that sounded like I was confirming her plan, but it was more of a grunt of acknowledgment, not agreement.

  “Love you, baby. You’re a strong person. You’ll recover from this, I promise.”

  “I don’t feel strong right now,” I whispered, stuffing my duffel with all of my toiletries from the bathroom.

  “Strength isn’t about never being weak. Strength is about keeping going when you’d rather curl up into a ball and wither away.” She was quiet a moment, then added, “I’ll see you soon.”

  The line went dead, but I kept the phone tucked to my ear. It was almost like I could still hear my mom’s voice on the other end, reassuring me, comforting me. She would see me soon.

  The whole ride to the airport, I kept staring at my phone. When I realized whose name I was hoping would flash on my screen, I tucked it back into my pocket.

  I didn’t want to hear from him again in this life or the next one.

  I’d left a note for Aunt Julie so she wouldn’t freak when she got home and found me and my suitcase gone. She’d probably still lose it, but at least she’d know I was safe and had a plan.

  I got off at the first terminal the bus stopped at. I didn’t know which airline had the quickest flight to Vancouver, but I was going to find it. Thanks to Mom’s shiny credit card, I had a one-way ticket in less than five minutes, my suitcase checked and ready to meet me in another country.

  When I made it to the security checkpoint, ticket and passport in hand, I froze up. I wasn’t sure why. Other than boarding the plane, this was the last step to get out of here. Go through those gates and that body-scanning machine thing and I was as good as free. Only, I didn’t feel like that. The closer I moved toward the security checkpoint, the heavier I felt. Almost like someone was balancing cinder blocks on my head, one for every step I took.

  I was running away.

  Leaving.

  Escaping.

  Turning my back and walking away when life got hard and I didn’t want to deal.

  Suddenly I backed up until I reached a row of plastic chairs lined up against a wall. Running away from my problems. Leaving when the going got tough. I knew it wasn’t like I was my dad and leaving behind my unborn child or anything, but I didn’t want to feel like a quitter, too.

  Dropping my duffel at my feet, I let my head fall into my hands and started crying. I’d been betrayed by two dads in two different ways. One by leaving, and one by lying.

  My flight still wasn’t for another few hours, but I wasn’t sure if I could make it through those security gates even if I had more time. Everything inside me felt dead.

  I don’t know how long I’d been sitting there, lost and reeling, when I heard someone approach me. It didn’t take long for me to recognize the sneakers that had just stepped into the patch of tile I was staring at.

  “If you meant what you said about never wanting to see me again, you might not want to look up for the next few minutes. Or however long it takes me to say what I need to.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “It was pretty easy to guess where you’d go after what happened this afternoon. Then I just had to check the Shrinking Violets’ tour schedule to see which city you’d be heading to on the first flight out.”

  My body shifted. He’d only known me a couple of months and knew what I’d do when life got too overwhelming.

  “Go away, Quentin. Please.” My fingers combed my hair as I closed my eyes.

  “We agreed to get together tonight so I could tell you something important. And the airport works just fine for me.”

  I wanted to cover my ears. I wished I was through security already.

  “Lily’s mine. She’s my daughter.” He exhaled heavily, as if a massive weight had fallen off him. “Her mom didn’t want her from the very second she found out she was pregnant, but I managed t
o convince her to have the baby. I’ve been raising Lily on my own with help from my parents. I don’t think I could have survived the past year without them.”

  He paused to clear his throat. Mine felt like it was being ripped into pieces. “We moved because after Lily was born, no one acted the same around me, you know? No one treated us the same. People either ignored us altogether or pitied us. It was nice having a new place to start over, a clean slate.”

  My eyes opened, and I found his sneakers had shuffled closer.

  “We didn’t tell anyone about Lily being mine. The neighbors, the students at my new school, the people I work with at the pool. Everyone assumed she was my sister, and we didn’t correct them.”

  “Yeah.” My voice was raspy from the long stretch of silence. “That part of the story I’m familiar with.”

  “I was going to tell you, Jade.”

  I said nothing.

  Quentin sighed. “I should have told you sooner. Hindsight’s a bitch, but if I could go back and do it again, I would have told you first thing.”

  My back rose when I huffed.

  “My family sacrificed their lives for me. Lily’s life is dependent on mine.” His voice grew louder. “I couldn’t ignore all that and tell some girl I’d just met—some girl who was taking off once summer was over.”

  “Well, some girl understands everything now. So thank you for the explanation, carry on, have a nice life.” I waved my hand, hoping he’d leave.

  “Damn it, stop twisting my words around, Jade. You’re not some girl to me. You’re the girl, but there’s someone else in my life I have to think about, too. Someone I have to put first, always.”

  “This wasn’t just about you putting your daughter’s interests first, Quentin.” I leveled him with a glare that made him fall back a step. “This was about you putting your interests first, too.”

  Quentin collapsed into the chair beside me. “Yeah, that was part of it. I liked you, Jade. A lot. A whole lot more than I was expecting to and a hell of a lot more than I should have, given my situation.” He clasped his hands together as he leaned forward in his seat. “You are so free to be and do whatever you want. You see differently than anyone else. You’re tough one moment and sweet the next. I wasn’t expecting to have the feelings I have for you. If I had, I would have left you alone.”

  When I lifted my eyebrow, he sighed. “Or maybe I wouldn’t have.” He paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I loved how I felt when I was with you. I loved feeling like I was any other guy who felt as though anything was possible. I liked just getting to be me when I was with you. The old me. I knew that telling you about Lily might push you away, and I already knew you were leaving at the end of summer—”

  “So you thought you could keep your daughter a secret from me and I’d never find out? And this was okay with you?” My words cut sharper than I’d intended, but I wasn’t sure if this was making everything easier to understand or harder.

  “No. Shit. None of this is okay with me.” He popped out of his chair suddenly. “It’s not okay that you found out the way you did. It’s not okay I waited so long to tell you. It’s not okay I let myself fall for you in the first place.” He sucked in a deep breath. “It’s not okay Lily has some dad who’s barely making it, and it’s not okay she has a mom who doesn’t want anything to do with her.” He smacked his palm against the wall. “You both deserve the best. And instead, you both wound up with me.”

  My throat bobbed. “Blaire? Your old girlfriend from your other school?”

  He nodded. “Her parents took her out of school when she started to show and had her tutored at home. Ashlyn and Lindsey were the only other ones who knew about it.”

  “Did you love her?”

  He shook his head. “No. But I love what we made together. Lily. I love my daughter. I love her so much I wouldn’t change anything if I could go back and do it again. Not even knowing how hard it was and is and probably always will be. I wouldn’t change any of it, Jade.”

  My back trembled. “There were times before? When you tried telling me, didn’t you?”

  His hands slid into his pockets. “Yeah, a couple times I tried. Not that it really counts, since I never actually did.”

  I didn’t feel the tear until it splattered on my wrist. “Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for telling me your version of it.”

  “I owed you an explanation tonight. I’m sorry someone beat me to it.”

  I bit my lip. “Me too.”

  Quentin shoved off the wall and bent toward me. I couldn’t look up at him. It wasn’t because I was angry but because I was starting to realize how much I felt for him.

  “I know this might sound weird, but I have to say it.” He slid his hands into his pockets, shifting. “If Lily turns out to be half the person you are, as a dad I’ll be damn proud.” He turned to leave. “Have a happy life, Jade. And don’t settle for anything or anyone. You deserve better. So don’t settle.”

  All I could do was keep biting my lip and nodding as he walked away. I could have said a hundred things back, there were a million things running through my mind, but I let him walk away. I let him go, because I didn’t see any path for us other than the one we’d already been on, and I knew we could never find our way back.

  I started crying again.

  Quentin was gone.

  He’d said I was someone a dad would be proud of.

  He had a daughter.

  And holy crap, I hadn’t let the pool know I was leaving.

  Everything was piling on me, until I was buried.

  How was I going to crawl out from underneath this and heal alone?

  “As your parent, I feel like I should ground you until you’re sixty. But as your mom, I kind of just want to give you a big hug.”

  When I looked up, I blinked a few times to make sure I was seeing right. “Mom?” I glanced up and down the terminal, trying to figure out where she’d come from. “What are you doing here?”

  “That’s the same question I should be asking you.” Her hand settled on her hip as she looked down at me, but the next moment she held her arms open and pulled me in.

  I pretty much leaped out of that chair.

  “Whoa.” A puff of air burst from her. “I missed you, too, baby.”

  My arms cinched so tightly around her they started to shake a little. I didn’t realize I’d missed every little piece of her, from the sandalwood essential oil she dabbed on her pulse points to the way her hair felt, brushing across my face when she hugged me. I’d missed it all.

  “How did you get here so quickly?” My voice was muffled against her worn leather jacket.

  “The really great thing about making it big is that all of these credit card companies send you these shiny black cards with no limits. Makes chartering a last-minute plane into Burbank really easy.”

  Mom kissed my temple and smiled down at me. “So tell me: What are you doing here? And I’m willing to bet that shiny black card that you have not talked with your aunt and uncle about this whole leaving thing.”

  My head dropped onto her shoulder. I felt instantly better now that she was here. “I didn’t talk to them. I left a note.” Mom grumbled something about not another note. “I couldn’t hang around waiting. I had to get away—out of there and away from everything.”

  “Looks like you didn’t take the final step.” Mom pointed at the buzzing security area.

  “Yeah, I was having trouble with that last little bit. Kind of felt paralyzed.”

  “That’s because you’ve got a conscience, oh daughter of mine, and you know that running away from a problem is never a way to deal with it. Head down that path and you’ll never stop running.”

  She didn’t have to say it for me to know who she was talking about. “I saw him,” I started slowly. “I met my dad.”

 
Mom’s hands rubbing my back stopped. “When?” Her voice was too controlled, too casual-sounding.

  “Last night,” I admitted.

  Her body seemed to go rigid all at once, before relaxing a moment later. Her hands started rubbing circles into my back again. “Well, you have had quite the twenty-four hours, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t even want to think about it.”

  Mom twisted my hair up in her hand like she’d been doing as long as I could remember. “How did it go? With your dad?”

  I shook my head. “I bet you can guess.”

  “I’m sure I can,” she whispered. “This was why you wanted to spend the summer with your aunt and uncle, right? Because you wanted to meet him and thought I wouldn’t let you?”

  I nodded.

  “Oh, Jade, it wasn’t that I didn’t want you to meet your dad. It was never that.”

  “You just wished I had a different dad?” I guessed, glancing up at her.

  She shook her head. “Not a different dad, but maybe that the one you had wasn’t such a…”

  “Loser?” I suggested.

  Mom tipped her head left and right, like she was hoping another option would present itself. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  I started smiling. When Mom saw it, she started to smile, too. “Oh, babe, I’m sorry your dad didn’t get a chance to see how amazing you are. But it’s only because he doesn’t know the first thing about amazing. He doesn’t even know it exists, and he wouldn’t recognize it if amazing started growing on his”—she cut herself short—“on his forehead. It has nothing to do with you, Jade. Trust me. It’s him.”

  Mom was such an awesome person. I knew it wasn’t cool to think your mom was great, but she was. She cared about others and had this amazing laugh and worked so hard. How could he have walked away from her after he found out she was pregnant? How could he just leave like that?

  “How do you not hate him?” I asked her.

  One of the only tears I’d ever seen come from my mom fell down her cheek. She held her smile. “Because if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have you.”