I relax back into my seat and try to come off as uncaring and cool, but I can’t help tapping my fingertips along the hem of my skirt, occasionally touching my bare thigh. Seth chose my outfit for today—a tight, black business skirt and a light pink silk blouse with a frilly collar. I planned on saving this outfit for dinner if we go out, but Seth couldn’t wait that long to see me in it and demanded I wear it today. I’d be happier in a pair of sweatpants and a plain tee. Isn’t that what people wear on planes? Comfortable clothes?
I dra
g in a deep inhale and reach to open the window. We aren’t in the sky yet, but I figure if I face my fear head on and watch our ascent, then I’ll be ready for the flight. Before my fingers curl around the handle of the blind, Seth whips across, grabbing my wrist. I gasp as he pulls my hand away from it.
“Settle down, daredevil.” He chuckles. “You might want to conquer your fears, but I’m fine hiding from mine.” He lets me go. “Please don’t open the blind.”
Am I trying to hide a skeptical smile? I think I am. “You’re that scared? I’m sure it’s beautiful.”
He nods his head, unashamed. “Yes
, I am that scared. We’re going to be very, very high up—tens of thousands of feet—and I don’t care how beautiful it is, it’s a sight I never want to see.”
I’m itching to open the blinds
now. I want to see the clouds…my thoughts of the fluffy white clouds are interrupted by the pilot’s voice. I barely pay attention to what he’s saying. All I can focus on is the erratic pulse of my heart. A few minutes and a dozen safety announcements later, we’re racing down the runway and officially on our way to California.
*
**
(T-minus two days until Las Vegas)
My body is charged with excitement and a sense of self-accomplishment as we drive away from the airport in an SUV Seth rented.
I went on an airplane for the first time!
I don’t care how childish I sound, it was amazing and when Seth went to the toilet, I even peeked out the window.
Seamless. Serene. Surreal.
Those are the only words I have to describe what I saw. I want to see it again and I want to take photos of it, to remember exactly how perfect it was. I pull down the visor and check my hair in the mirror, not bad considering I was squishing it against the headrest of a chair for a couple of hours.
I peek sideways at Seth, his eyes focus on the road and I notice his hands grip the steering wheel off and on again, over and over.
“Nervous?” I ask, placing a hand on his jean-clad thigh.
He drops his hand from the steering wheel and takes my hand in his. Strangely, the gesture sends a million and one flutters up my arm and directly into my chest.
“I don’t know.” He moistens his lips and keeps his gaze out the front windscreen. “This can go really well…or it can be a total fuck up.”
“If it goes well?” I wonder aloud.
“We’ll take her home with us.”
“And if it’s a fuck up?”
He ponders for a second and his jaw clenches imperceptibly. “She stays.”
I analyze his face. He doesn’t like that idea and I can tell he’s conflicted. He wants to bring his mother home, but not until she’s better and I pray for his sake that she is.
*
**
The institute is nothing like I imagined. I pictured a cold, white cube-like building—I didn’t expect a resort by the beach. We drive up a long, straight driveway, lined with gorgeous palm trees and bushes. I wind my window down and the car floods with the smell of various flowers.
What a lovely place.
The color scheme of the buildings—the browns and charcoals—contrasted well with the blue sky and almost white sand—it’s nothing like the dull
prison I envisioned. I contemplate cracking a joke about becoming an alcoholic just to get locked up in a place like this, but I decide against it. It’s way too soon for jokes like that.
I breathe in the crisp scent of sea
salt and it tickles the back of my throat. I love it here.
We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.
California feels worlds away from Portland, Maine.
I’m paralyzed with awe at the serenity of the institution—from the driveway to the parking lot—all
of it amazes me and it isn’t until I feel Seth’s full lips press quickly against my cheek that I realize we’ve stopped. When I look at him, he smiles at me, but it’s a fake smile that I assume is supposed to make me feel better. His eyes are dark—clouded—and the beautiful golden rivers are barely distinguishable.
Without a word, I slip from my seat and shut the door. As we meet around the back of the car, Seth stuffs his hands into his pockets. I study him closely as he breathes deeply, preparing himself for the reunion with his mother. His sky blue shirt tightens around his chest with every inhale and I reach out to him, running my arms up the hard ridges of his biceps and
onto the nape of his neck. He blows air from his cheeks. “I feel stupid.”
I frown. “Why do you feel stupid?”
He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Because I’m nervous…” His eyelids droop a fraction and for some reason, his sudden vulnerability pierces my heart. “There’s a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and I feel like throwing up.”
In this moment, I see a glimpse of what Seth might’ve looked like as a child, with all of his innocence still intact—big, glossy brown eyes, straight lips
, and a worried little furrow between his brows.
Adorable.
“Don’t feel stupid,” I say, unable to hide a smile.
I bring my arms back down and hook one around his. Slowly, I draw him closer to the front doors.
“You have every right to be nervous and whether it ends on a good note or a bad note, this will all be over soon. Then, we can both sit around and sulk or we can go to the beach—whatever you want to do, we’ll do it.”
He nods and the movement keeps me linked to his childhood.
So fucking adorable.
***
Once we pass the reception desk and they check us over a few times to make sure we aren’t trying to smuggle anything in, a nurse leads us up spacious halls and through luxurious sitting areas. Everything seems to be a bright white trimmed with gold. All stonework is marble and the lights are low, crystal chandeliers. This place is more like a six star hotel than an alcoholic recovery center. The nurse veers around a corner and we follow. The uniforms here aren’t scrubs in various colors of blue, but more office attire—tight business dresses and lavish, too-high heels. Sadly, I fit right in here.
The nurse sto
ps outside a door and suddenly a tornado of nerves sweeps through me. I hate not knowing what’s on the other side of the door. It can swing both ways. Either it’ll make this trip worth it or it’ll be a complete waste of time.
The pretty blonde nurse turns to us. “Heads up, she’s in a little bit of a foul mood this morning.”
Great. I lick my lips in an attempt to moisten the nervous dryness that has seized them—it doesn’t help. With a friendly nod, she leaves us alone at the door. I shift closer to Seth, allowing my finger to glide over the back of his wrist.
“I’ll wait out here for you.” I step away from him, feeling a little relieved that I don’t have to go in there with Vanessa—I
almost get away with it too, until Seth’s hard, strong hand envelops mine and he pulls me right back into him.
“I
want you with me,” he says under his breath as he crushes me to his chest. It’s low and aggressive, striking all of the right chords. “Don’t make me face her alone.”
“Seth, she’s your moth—”
“I’m not asking you, O. I
need
you in the room with me.”
His face
…I can’t even take it. He’s sweet and demanding all at once. How can my brain compete against my heart? My brain knows it’s better for Vanessa and myself if I’m not in there tainting their reunion, but my heart knows I should be there to support Seth—regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me.
I nod in compliance
and he holds me closer for a little while longer. Time and space falls away as he holds me in his gaze. The building could be on fire right now, alarms could be blaring—sprinklers blasting—and I’d have no idea. I’d be completely oblivious to anything that isn’t Seth. His hands circle my waist and my sight drops to his lips as he lowers them to mine. I feel his breath on my face as he painfully eliminates the distance between our mouths. My lips are parted by the time his graze mine and before they seal shut, his body goes rigid and he turns his head, taking his luscious lips away from me. I blink rapidly, feeling as though I’ve just been let out of some crazy, lust-filled mind control. I was too consumed in Seth to hear Vanessa’s door open and when I turn my head, I’m met with the dark, espresso eyes that belong to one pissed off mother.
Seth shifts his weight and I pull away from him, straightening my shirt and skirt. I feel my face heat up
and I clear my throat. There’s no sign of embarrassment on Seth’s features and I wonder if he actually cares that we were busted by his mother outside her door.
There’s a long silence and my gaze flicks between the tw
o. They watch each other in some silent showdown—at least now I know where he got it from. The silence doesn’t last long and is quickly broken as Vanessa’s hand shoots out and slaps Seth right across the face. I gasp and my hands fly up to cover my mouth. He barely looks hurt by the slap and he keeps watching his mother. Hair prickles over the surface of my body and my entire system floods with shock and anger.
W
hat the fuck?
Seth
My face stings, but I’ve been hit by things ten times bigger and stronger than my 120 pound mother. I don’t mind, it’s not like I didn’t deserve it. I had her taken away in her sleep and sent to the other side of the country for rehabilitation. I’d be pissed, too.
“Are you kidding me?” Olivia
barks, stepping forward. I reach out, pressing my hand firmly against her stomach. The last thing I want is a fight between my mother and my girlfriend—Mom is tall and has reach on her side, but don’t underestimate Olivia’s fierceness. The girl can throw a mean jab, too.
“He
’s your son,” O continues and I feel her stomach clench under my hand.
“Olivia—”
“And I am his
mother
,” Mom interrupts. She flicks her long, back hair over her shoulder and straightens her blue blouse. “Yet he had me shipped to California against my will, kicking and screaming.”
Despite the angry features that contort her face, she looks healthy. Her skin is free of that
alcohol-induced sweat and her eyes are wide and alert. She really is a beautiful woman and I don’t hold the slap against her.
“You look good, Mom
,” I tell her, unable to hide my smile.
I can feel Olivia’s confused stare burn into the side of my face. I don’t think she’ll ever understand me.
I’m unpredictable—the best kind of unpredictable. Tears well in Mom’s eyes and I know she’s already forgiven me for putting her here.
“Oh,
Sethy!” she sobs before launching forward and wrapping her arms around my neck. I hug her back. I don’t know how long we hug, but it’s nice. With one hug, all of the apprehensions and nerves I had upon arrival are gone. They’re replaced with feelings of happiness.
Maybe it worked this time and she’s better. Maybe I can take her home
.
Mom pulls away as Olivia speaks. “I’ll be waiting for you down the hall when you’re ready.”
I see her lips slightly pouted, she’s still a little mad and it’s cute that she’s fired up to protect me.
I nod at her and she whirls around on her heel before heading back the way we came.
“I see you brought Nata—”
I
look at Mom and frown. Why can’t she remember her name? It’s not hard. It’s the one name I want her to remember and she can’t even do that.
“Sara—
jane?”
Holding in my frustration, I prompt her. “Olivia.”
“Olivia, right. She’s still around, I see.” Mom turns around and enters her room.
I follow her and close the door behind me. Mom’s room is immaculate—definitely worth the money I forked out for it.
“She must be good in bed for you to keep her around this long. The other girls I saw at the house came and went in the same day.”
Olivia
is
good in bed—great in bed—but that’s not why I keep her around. I lean against the wall and fold my arms over my chest as Mom drops into a hard looking arm chair. “She’s around because I love her.”
Mom’s eyebrow quirks
and she pulls a small ball of fluff off her black slacks. “You? In love? C’mon, Seth, we both know that’s not true. Love isn’t you.”
I shrug. “It is now.”
I’ve come a long way in such a short period of time that my mother wouldn’t even know who I am anymore, and it’s all because of one girl. My girl. “I’m going to marry her.”
Her full lips twitch upwards. “You sound certain.”
“I am.”
She starts to pick at her nails—a habit that really gets under my skin.
“If you’re so confident, why haven’t you asked her yet?”
I grind my teeth together, frustrated. It’s the same damn question I’ve been asking myself every night before I sleep. Mom’s lip twitch turns into a full smile.
“You want to marry her? Do you need my blessing?”
I shake my head. “I don’t need anyone’s blessing. I
’m just informing you of my plan.”
“And children? Last I heard you never wanted kids. Has that changed?”
“Yes, I want kids. Three—all boys.” I tell her without hesitation.
When the hell did I decide that? Children used to be a ‘no-go’ zone, but now I know how many I want and the sexes I want them to be? If I’m not careful, I’ll be writing baby names into a notebook by the end of the week.
Scary
.
“You can’t choose their sex, Seth. Why don’t you want a girl?”
“Karma, that’s why.”
Mom laughs and the sound is a welcome noise to my ears. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard her laugh hiccup free.
“Anyway, we have limited time. Tell me everything. How’d your tournament go?”
“I won
,” I reply. “I’m in the pros now.”
She shifts forward in her seat, excited
, and it makes me feel all warm and shit inside.
“That’s so great! I knew you could do it. How’s
Maddi?”
How’s
Maddi?
I should have assumed a conversation about my success would spark one about hers.
“I don’t know
,” I deadpan. And I didn’t. I’ve been ignoring her calls since she moved to Vegas. “We haven’t spoken since you hit her.”
Mom flinches at the memory and sits back in her chair. I immediately feel bad. I shouldn’t have brought it up.
It was years ago. Before we moved to Portland, Mom came home pretty drunk and Maddi and I were watching a movie. By that stage, it wasn’t unusual for Mom to indulge in alcohol after work and we didn’t hold it against her, considering Dad had passed away. Maddi told Mom about her plans to drop out of law school to go to Vegas with her douchebag boyfriend, Kye, and Mom lost her shit. She threw things, cursed, swore and cried—she went through the usual over the top drunk emotions before lashing out and attacking Maddi. I knew Mom had crossed the line, but I let her slap Maddi repeatedly in hopes Maddi would come to her senses—hell, I wanted to slap her. I don’t like Kye. I don’t like the way he looks at my sister—or the way he touches her. He fills her head with hopes and dreams, ones I know she’s too good for, and if, by some fucking miracle, his band does get picked up, I don’t want Maddi to become second to him. She has to be first—always. I want nothing but the best for my little sister. He’ll fuck her around and I know he will…because he’s like me. Difference is, I fucked around before I met the girl of my dreams. I’ve experienced it all. He hasn’t, and when the women start to throw themselves at him…I’m worried my sister will get hurt.
Anyway,
back on topic. I shouldn’t have sat back and let Mom hit Maddi. I should have fucking done something.
“It was a long time ago
,” Mom mutters. “I wasn’t myself.”
I
step closer. “But you are now and you seem okay. Let me take you home.”
A
sudden tear rolls from Mom’s eyes and down the length of her cheek. She wipes it away. “I’m not ready to go.”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that.
I crouch low, getting to eye level. Did I hear her correctly?
“This is where I need to be right now. I’m so close to kicking the habit. I want to come home, but all I’m thinking about right now is going to a bar for a Cosmo. I want to get better,
Sethy, and I have to be here to do it.”
She tucks a lock of black hair behind her ear. “I’m okay physically, but mentally, I’m drained. I can’t go back to the real world yet. Not yet.”
I want her to come home, but I’m not going to pressure her. If she feels she needs more time, then that’s exactly what I’ll give her for as long as she wants.
“You can have more time, but the second you truly believe you’re ready to come
home, call me and I’ll be on the first flight, regardless of where I am in the world.”
Mom reaches out and cups my face. “Oh, my baby boy
.” she sniffles and blinks back tears. “I’m sorry you had to take care of me. You’ve done so much for me…I’m the parent, not you, and yet you stepped up to the plate and kept me going.”
To hear her acknowledge all that I’ve done for her strikes me directly in the heart.
It makes everything I’ve done worth it. It makes all of the stress, all of the sleepless nights and scares I’ve endured worth it.
Her bottom lip quivers and I want to
flinch away. Seeing your mother cry is the worst thing in the world. It makes you feel small and helpless, like a child.
“Now that I’ve passed the dark
stage I was in, I can admit to myself and to you that I wanted to die. Before I fell asleep every night, I prayed for death. I begged God to not let me wake up, knowing I’d have to repeat it over and over—waking up alone, driving to work alone, eating alone—all of the things I was so used to doing with your father, I had to do alone and it affected me.”
She leans forward, planting a quick kiss on my forehead. “I never want to feel that again. I never want my children to see me like that
ever again. I’m better now, not perfect, but better.”
I’ve never really had a deep and meaningful conversation with Mom. Not like this, anyway. She drops her hands from my face and I smile at her. “You were never alone and you never will be.”
A distracting beep over the P.A. pulls us from our conversation and Mom wipes her pink face with the back of her hand, sniffling with sadness…no, happiness—maybe both.
“Attention guests, visiting time is now over. Please say your goodbyes. You are more than welcome to return in four hours when visiting hours
recommence. Thank you.”
I rise to my feet and run my fingers briefly through my hair.
“How long are you in California for?” Mom asks, pushing up off of the couch.
“Until tomorrow morning. I was going to take Olivia to the beach this afternoon, but I’ll come back and visit you instead.”
She scoffs and swats me away. “Don’t be silly. Take the girl to the beach. Cali is too beautiful to be stuck indoors.”
“But—”
“No buts.” Her long, thin arms surround me as she pulls me in for a hug and her familiar scent envelops me. “Take her to the beach. I’ll be fine.”
After a quick goodb
ye, I close her door behind me and draw in a deep inhale. When I exhale, I feel different—renewed. Mom is okay. For the first time in a long time, she isn’t playing on my mind and I’m completely at ease when I think about her. It has been years since I’ve felt that way, and since meeting Olivia, the old chapters in my story have closed one by one—Mason, Mom, all of the random girls and even Don. From here, new chapters will be written and they’ll feature Olivia in every single sentence of every single paragraph. Without her, my story can’t move forward and it can’t be completed. I love her. She’s the one good thing I’ve allowed myself to have since I let Dad get into my head, and so far, so good. Maybe I am good. If I wasn’t, why would the universe give Olivia to me? They wouldn’t put someone as innocent as her in harm’s way.
Maybe Dad was wrong about me.