Like always, I hang my purse on the coat rack and head into the dining room where I take a seat at the table. My dad joins me, two cups of coffee in his hand, visibly tired. The wrinkles around his eyes show his age and the previously visible laugh lines that framed his mouth seem like they haven’t been touched in years. A defeated, lifeless man.
“What has brought upon this surprise visit?” he asks, sitting across from me.
I wrap both my hands around my cup and look up at my dad. “I have something I need to tell you. A few things.”
He leans back in his chair, an interested look on his face. “Okay. Are you going to get right to it, or are you going to beat around the bush a bit, lighten the mood?”
“Get right to it.” I take a deep breath and look down at my coffee, unable to make eye contact with my dad. “I, uh . . .” I swallow hard. “I dropped out of Cornell, Dad.”
He doesn’t say anything; he just waits for me to continue. I shift in my seat and glance up at him. His jaw is shifting from side to side, his eyes stern as he looks down at me. Fuck, and I thought that was hard.
I wish Andrew was here right now. How I wish he held my small hand in his large one, lending me his strength.
Taking another deep breath, I continue. “I dropped out because Tucker and I . . . I was . . . pregnant.” The words feel like chalk coming off my tongue. I struggle with each word, worried and scared what my dad might say. “We had all the intentions of raising the baby, but a few weeks later, I miscarried. It was the end for Tucker and me.”
Silence stretches between us. I fidget, wondering what else I should say. I really don’t have any other confessions. I was pretty quick and to the point. And now I just have to wait for my dad to say something.
The drumming of his fingers on the table are the first indication he’s about to yell at me. Then it’s the clearing of his throat and the shift in his seat.
“Are you not in school now?” I shake my head, no. He slams the table with his hand, startling me almost out of my seat. “Damn it, Sadie. What are you doing then? Just sleeping through your days in a one-bedroom apartment with Samantha? Partying? Wasting your life away? A life I worked damn hard at providing for you?”
“I’m working at Friendly’s, Dad.” It’s a pathetic response, but I have nothing else. Yet.
“I see.” He nods, his pointer finger steadily tapping on the table. “So, that’s it? You’re going to be a waitress for the rest of your life? The valedictorian, smartest girl in the tri-state area is going to just give up and be a waitress.” He stands and leans over the table. “That’s fine, Sadie. Thanks for sharing. Rinse your mug when you’re done.”
Stunned, I watch him walk away but not before I stand from my seat and call out to him. “That’s all you’re going to say? That’s fine? You’re not going to yell at me? You’re not to try to knock some sense into me?”
He shakes his head. “You’re in your twenties, Sadie. You should be able to tell right from wrong by now. If you’re looking for someone to light a fire under your ass, you’re looking at the wrong person.”
Furious with my father, with his lack of caring, his own lack of fire, I let loose. “What happened to you?” I shout. “You used to care. You used to push us. Did Mom really take away all of your fight?”
Stepping back into the room, his eyes furious now, he says, “You have no fucking clue what I went through with your mother.”
“Oh, you don’t think so?” I ask. “Because I remember in pristine detail everything that happened, do you know why? Because you told me. You told me everything, Dad. Things I never should have heard when I was that young.”
He runs his hand over his face. “You were the only one . . .” He pauses and lets out a long breath. “You were the only one I could talk to.” My heart falls from his confession.
“Dad, I didn’t—”
“It’s in the past, Sadie.” He looks up at me, an unspoken apology floating between us. “You want some fire? Fine. Be the person I raised you to be, the accomplished woman with a world of potential at her fingertips. Don’t let one setback deter you from the path we set forth for you.” Tears start to well up in my eyes. What is with this crying jag lately?
“I can’t go back to Cornell, Dad. I lost my scholarship.”
He slips his hands in his jean pockets and says, “Luckily for you, Cornell isn’t the only school on this planet. Looks like you should start applying.”
Nothing else is spoken between us. He walks over, kisses me on the forehead, and then goes to his room where he quietly shuts the door.
Cornell had been my dream ever since I can remember. I had lived and breathed that future. Funny thing about dreams, they often change.
Like my dad asked, I rinse my mug before I leave. I grab my purse, and head out to my car where I check my phone, hoping and praying. When I see I have no messages, I look down, trying to swallow my grief.
Be the person I raised you to be, the accomplished woman with a world of potential at her fingertips. Don’t let one setback deter you from the path we set forth for you.
Dad is right to be angry with me. And it wasn’t about the pregnancy, either. It was about who I had become, despite his years of hard work to make a difference in my life. For my life.
I need to be my own fire. I need to believe in me again, and be the woman my dad believes I can be. Be the woman I know I can be. I’m still broken-hearted. I still ache and burn for the man I love.
But this time, I’m not going to let it hold me back.
I have some work to do.
Chapter Thirty
ANDREW
“How many times are you going to stare at that message?” Jimmy asks, coming up from behind me, looking over my shoulder.
I quickly tuck my phone away even though I know he’s already seen what was on my screen. Sadie has sent me a text message every day for the last two weeks. The LAST TWO WEEKS. They are always asking how I am, what I’ve been up to, and telling me about the weird things Smilly has been doing in their apartment.
And I never answer them. But this last one, it has me itching.
Sadie: Saddlemire just showed me a ring. He’s going to propose to Smilly. I’m in cahoots. It’s going to be a big surprise with trickery and everything. I can’t wait. Wish you could be a part of it.
Her texts have gotten bolder as the days go on. Yesterday she told me how much she misses me.
Well, fuck, I miss her, too, but I meant what I said. She needs to find herself. She needs to stop hiding behind people and face the world for what it’s worth. Be what she’s worth. If she hid behind me forever, she’d resent me. She’d resent herself for not becoming all she was capable of. I love her, and I want her to be the woman she wants to be. I want that for her. Even if that is going to be without me.
Ignoring Jimmy’s question, I turn around to face him in the stool I’m sitting on and ask, “Are you ready?”
Speaking of engagements . . .
“Fuck, I’m sweating,” he answers, pulling on his tie. “She’s going to say yes, right? I mean, she has to say yes, she moved out here for me. She’s going to say yes. Fuck.” He puts his hands on his head. “What if she says no?”
I chuckle, loving how insecure and nervous my brother is right now. Sounds like a dick thing to say, but trust me, Jimmy could use a little sweating every once in awhile.
“I don’t know, man,” I say a little uneasy. “I did see her checking out the pizza delivery man the other night.”
“Because he had a mole on his face she was concerned about,” Jimmy counters. “She’s very much into melanoma.”
“That’s what she wants you to believe.”
Jimmy turns, anger on his face. “What’s your problem, man? Trying to fuck with me?”
Laughter bubbles out of me as I hold my stomach. Shit, he’s too easy right now.
“This isn’t funny. I’m really fucking nervous.”
Standing from my stool, I grip his shoulders and
look him in the eye. “She’s going to say yes, bro. You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”
“I hope so.”
The bedroom door opens and Mae walks out in a purple flowy dress that falls just above her ankles. Her hair is curled and she’s wearing the butterfly necklace Jimmy gave her one year ago.
Jimmy and I stand side by side as she approaches. She does a little spin and asks, “How do I look?”
“P-perfect,” Jimmy stutters, sweating more than I’ve ever seen before. It’s almost repulsive. I don’t know if I should get a towel for him or try to hydrate him as quickly as possible.
“Are you okay?” Mae asks, stepping forward.
“Yeah.” He pulls on his collar and swallows hard. I swear, he looks like he’s about to—
Before I can finish my thought, Jimmy’s eyes roll in the back of his head and he falls to the ground, his body slamming against the carpeted floor. When he hits the ground, the ring box flies out of his pocket right between him and Mae.
Well, that’s one way to do it.
Stunned, Mae just stands there, unsure what to do. So being the good brother I am, I kneel down to Jimmy, lift his head and hold out the ring box to Mae.
In a Jimmy-like voice, I say, “Mae, Jimmy wants to know if you’ll marry him.”
Her hands go to her mouth as she squats down and starts kissing unconscious Jimmy. “Of course, I will. Oh my God, I can’t believe it.”
I open the box for her and she takes the ring out and places it on her finger. Staring brightly at the diamond, she snuggles into Jimmy’s limp body, squeezing him tightly. “Was he that worried about asking me?” She turns back to my lifeless brother and swats him across the shoulder. “Stupid man. Of course I’d say yes.”
Feeling like I’ve done my job here, I give Mae best wishes and ask her to text me when Jimmy wakes up so I know he’s okay. He was supposed to propose at dinner, but maybe they’ll just stay in now, given his rather untimely fall.
I head to my car and pull out my phone. I have a need to tell someone and the one person I can’t seem to get out of my head is the one person I want to tell. Taking a leap like my brother—or rather a fall—I text Sadie back.
Andrew: Congratulations to Saddlemire for manning up. :) My brother actually just proposed to his girlfriend. He passed out while doing it, but when he wakes up, he’ll see he’s engaged so all in all, a good day.
Feeling a little lighter, I drive back to my house. The girls are all at practice so I take a quick shower and sign into my computer to start studying. I stare at my screen for a few seconds and then like every other college student, I jump onto Facebook to procrastinate. It’s hard to just start studying. I have to warm up first, build up some procrastination guilt before I really dive in. I study better when I feel guilty for wasting so much time.
I scroll through my feed, liking pictures of most of my friends posing with beer cans, as a message pops up in the corner.
Sadie.
My heart skips a beat as I see her picture in the corner, her blonde hair floating over her shoulders and her bright, beautiful smile filling the screen. Fuck, I miss her. I miss her so goddamn much.
Sadie: Hey there. Just got your text. Congratulations to your brother.
Should I write her back? Fuck, who am I kidding? I’ve already clicked on the text box. I can’t hold back. I’m giving in. Just a little friendly conversation, that’s all.
Andrew: Thanks. I’m sure when he wakes up, he’ll be stoked.
Sadie: He really passed out?
Andrew: Yup, barely got two words out about how nice his fiancée looked before his eyes rolled in the back of his head and he tipped right over, the ring box popping out of his pocket.
Sadie: OMG, I don’t mean to laugh, but that’s kind of funny.
Andrew: Don’t worry, I was laughing the whole time. Well, that’s after I asked Mae for her hand in marriage for my brother.
Sadie: Such a commendable man, you are.
Andrew: I try. (Snaps invisible suspenders)
Sadie: LOL. You would look pretty damn good in suspenders.
I sit back and run my hand over my mouth. Fuck, I’m getting in dangerous territory here, but she’s right, I would look good in suspenders. She’s just paying me a compliment, that’s all.
Andrew: I do believe you’re right, but whenever I see them on guys, I always notice how it looks like they have a constant wedgie. Doesn’t seem too comfortable.
Sadie: Looking at guys’ butts? Has it really been that long since I’ve seen you, you’re checking out men now? I’ve never turned a guy gay before. I don’t know if I should be happy to have my first or nervous. I mean, you were always a little metrosexual anyway, so I can see it.
Say what? Oh, fuck no. What is it with women and thinking I’m gay? If it’s the glasses, I’ll stomp on them right now.
Andrew: Please, Cannon Cock only likes the pussy.
Sadie: Filling in your douche quota again?
Andrew: Can’t let it go unfulfilled. The repercussions are catastrophic.
Sadie: Yeah? What happens?
Settling in, I no longer hold back my smile as I write back.
Andrew: Once your douche quota is revoked, then you have no excuse to make when you act like a douche. Basically . . . it makes you a douche.
Sadie: Ah, I see. You realize that makes no sense, right?
Andrew: Made sense in my head.
Sadie: And I guess that’s all that matters, right?
Andrew: Damn straight.
***
After another long day of lectures, I toss my backpack on the floor of my room, wake my computer up, and log into Facebook. While everything is loading, I unpeel the banana I snagged from the kitchen on my way up and take a giant bite.
My eyes light up when I see the message box from Sadie blinking at me. For some reason, we’ve resorted to Messenger to keep in touch. I refuse to download the app on my phone, knowing it will be a huge time suck in class, but hell if I don’t check when I get home.
Sadie: Stuart really misses you. He says you were the best fountain worker he’s had since me.
Laughing, I set my banana down on my desk and type her back.
Andrew: Since you? Doubtful. I take the fucking cake when it comes to scooping ice cream.
Sadie: I could beat you any day. Don’t forget who showed you the way.
Andrew: Yeah, while scowling the whole time.
Sadie: Only because I caught you staring at my ass multiple times that day. Sorry for not wanting to be objectified at work.
Andrew: You weren’t complaining when I finger-fucked you in the storage closet.
I press send and then cringe. Christ, crossing the line there, Andrew. You’re not supposed to be flirting; you’re supposed to be . . .
Hell, what am I supposed to be doing? Staying away? Blocking her out? Not talking to her at all?
Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I can’t. I’m drawn to her. Just because we’re talking doesn’t mean anything has changed. We’re just talking. That’s it.
The little bubble pops up to indicate she’s typing and when I read her message, I tilt my head back and laugh out loud.
Sadie: That reminds me, the sugar-free vanilla has been very lonely lately. I’ve tried to tell the old gal that you’ve moved on but she still has hope.
Andrew: Ah, sugar-free vanilla, my first love. Tell her I miss her.
Sadie: She misses you, too . . .
It doesn’t feel like we’re talking about ice cream. I miss Sadie like I’m missing my breath.
***
Sadie: Smilly thinks Saddlemire is cheating on her. She’s convinced of it actually and has threatened to cut his face out of all their pictures.
The sound of the message from Sadie pulls me away from my books. Welcoming the much-needed distraction, I type back.
Andrew: I didn’t know people still printed pictures.
Needing to get a little more comfortable, I detach my lapto
p from my docking station and sit on my bed. I position my pillows just right so I’m leaning against the wall, my back supported.
Sadie: Smilly is old school like that. She has actual physical photo albums.
Andrew: That is old school. I don’t even think my parents have photo albums anymore. Did you try to calm her down?
Sadie: Yeah. I gave her a bag of Doritos and turned on The Crown. She seems to have settled down.
Andrew: When does he propose?
Sadie: Not for another two weeks. He’s basing it around his parents’ wedding anniversary. He’s pretending to throw a party for them, when in fact, he’s going to propose on the Washington Street Bridge.
Andrew: Man, that’s a long time. He better hold her off. Getting your head cut out of pictures seems painful.
Sadie: He’s aware of her insanity.
Andrew: Good.
I pause and bite the inside of my cheek as I type out my next sentence.
Andrew: How have you been?
I see Emma every week. We meet up for coffee between one of our classes, but we never talk about Sadie. We keep it friendly, mostly about school. I’ve been tempted many times to ask her what Sadie has been up to, but I’ve held off. I’ve held strong up until this point, but I’m weakening with these messages. She’s breaking me down. I have to fucking know.
Sadie: Good. I’ve been good.
I stare at her answer. No elaboration? No update on her life? I was kind of hoping she would tack on a little more information than just telling me she’s been good. Fuck, this is frustrating. It is what it is though. She wasn’t willing to let me into her life when we were seeing each other. Why the fuck do I think she’ll do things differently now? We’re still at that forlorn place, it seems.
Andrew: I’m glad.
It’s official; things just got awkward.
Sadie: Smilly is trying to cut the photos again. I have to go. Have a good night.
Before I can answer, her little green bubble in the corner of the messenger box goes grey, indicating she’s logged out. Damn it. I guess some things will never change.
I don’t know why I thought they would. Hope is a bastard.