Every Other Weekend

by Abigail Johnson

  Seeing Guy talking to Adam’s dad like they were friends—peers—was super weird. He shouldn’t be friends with my friend’s dad, but watching him in that stairwell made it obvious that he was. Which in turn made it very obvious that we weren’t friends, no matter what I’d thought the other night.

  We’d spent my sixteenth birthday together, eaten a carton of ice cream, then shared a Hawaiian pizza, and talked about movies. Guy had written reviews for tons of magazines and websites. I hadn’t worked up to mentioning the film program or asking him to write a letter of recommendation for my application, but he’d been cool on the whole and hadn’t peppered me with invasive questions about why I’d been crying when he found me. I’d thought we’d had fun, and considering how not fun my birthday had started, that was saying something.

  It wasn’t like I’d been down in the lobby waiting for a glimpse of him like I did with Adam or anything, but a smile? An acknowledgment of any kind that we weren’t perfect strangers? I’d kind of expected that.

  His ignoring me just felt off.

  Jeremy settled against the wall and crossed his arms, impatience clear on his face.

  “One of yours is ready to eat,” Guy said, nodding at Jeremy. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full with all these kids, so I’ll leave you to it.”

  Guy didn’t glance at me at all, and when Adam asked me why I hadn’t said more to Guy considering he was the film critic I’d been wanting to meet for months, all I did was shrug.

  ADAM

  The cheesesteak place was small, but fortunately not packed. We ordered, then claimed one of the round tables in the corner. The place smelled enticingly like roasted meat, and my mouth was watering before I could unwrap my cheesesteak.

  I watched Dad as he asked Jolene a few polite questions. I knew he wanted to show me that he cared about what I cared about, that he was trying. It was kind of working. Ever since I’d found out that he had in fact been trying with Mom, at least a little, it had become harder to keep my anger focused on him alone.

  Plus, I liked seeing him with Jolene. I liked seeing him talk to her, show her that another person was interested in what she had to say even when her answers were...blunt.

  “You know, I don’t think I’ve met your dad yet. What does he do?”

  “Commercial real estate.”

  “Oh.” Dad let his voice convey that he was impressed. “Guess that’s why we don’t see much of him.”

  Jolene opened her mouth, but I pressed my foot down on top of hers to get her attention and subtly shook my head. Jolene didn’t understand that my dad was the kind of dad who wouldn’t be able to hear that she hadn’t seen her dad in months and not do something about it. He’d get involved, and neither of us would thank him for the outcome.

  “And what does your mom do?”

  “Alimony,” Jolene said, then caught my pained expression and gave me a what-did-I-say look before adding, “I mean, I guess she’s a stay-at-home mom?”

  “That’s kind of like every job at once.”

  “Ah,” Jolene said with a touch more sarcasm than I thought was necessary.

  “She must miss you a lot when you’re over here.”

  Jolene choked on her soda. “Yeah. Probably why she spends so much time at the gym. Sometimes I think she’d live there if she could. Her goal this year is to get her body fat down to 21 percent.”

  Dad frowned but tried to hide it. “Is that for a weight lifting competition or something?”

  “Nope, that’s for an I’ll-show-him-I’m-still-hot kind of thing, since my dad left her for his twenty-six-year-old personal trainer.” Jolene gave me a thumbs-up under the table to indicate how well she thought she was handling my dad’s questions.

  I kind of wanted to kiss her.

  Well, I always wanted to kiss her, but I wanted to more than usual in that moment.

  When Dad excused himself to go to the bathroom, I seriously thought about it.

  “Shelly?” Jeremy finally decided to stop scowling long enough to join the conversation. “She’s only twenty-six?”

  I threw a curly fry at his head. “Idiot. Don’t you have a thing going with Erica?”

  Jolene’s hand froze with a fry midway to her mouth. “No way, you’re dating Erica now? Like for real, not just to mess with Adam?”

  My brother’s skin did its best impression of ketchup, and I felt my own face turning red. Was that what I looked like when I blushed? And Jolene claimed she thought that was cute?

  Jeremy shot a pleading glance at me, but I grinned and shook my head. He was overdue for a little squirming.

  Watching us, Jolene’s laughter bubbled up out of her as she leaned toward him. “You have to tell me how that happened.” She nudged my shoulder with hers. “Tell me you’re not made of questions right now?”

  I didn’t care nearly as much as she did, but I propped my forearms on the table. “Yeah, Jer, and I’d make it quick if you want to finish before Dad gets back.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” Jeremy reached for the basket of fries, but Jolene hooked a finger around it and slid it out of reach.

  “But I mean, she had to have hated you by association. And, offense intended, you can be a massive turd, like, all of the time.” She popped a few fries into her mouth.

  His ears were the only part of him that were still red and I was guessing that was due to annoyance rather than embarrassment. I figured he was about to mouth off and prove her point but he surprised me.

  “Cut me some slack. He—” Jeremy flicked his gaze at me “—was supposed to be spending time with our dad, and he was off with you from the first day. Was I a turd to you?” He wobbled his head from side to side. “I could have been nicer, and I was considering it before he got together with Erica and was still off with you the whole time we were here. That’s how she started talking to me, by the way. We were both pissed at him—and you by extension.”

  “For the record, you were the king of turds.” Jolene nudged the fry basket back toward him. “But I get that I didn’t exactly make things easier for you here. And the Erica thing was not awesome.”

  Jeremy studied her. She studied him back. He took a fry.

  “So you literally sat next to her at play rehearsal and said, what? We both think Adam is a tool?”

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m right here.” Neither of them glanced at me.

  Jeremy took another fry. “Basically.”

  “And whose idea was it to go to the dance together?” she asked.

  Jeremy grinned. “Mine. Took a little convincing, but she came around.”

  “Big-time turd move,” Jolene said, but she was smiling, too.

  “Worked out though. Turns out we have other stuff in common than wanting to knock him out most of the time.”

  “Still here,” I said, though once again they ignored me.

  “Good for you,” Jolene said to my brother and I could tell she meant it. “Though I feel sorry for her, since she obviously traded down.”

  My heart puffed up at that comment while Jeremy threw back his head and laughed. “I tell you what. Give my brother a little breathing room over here, and I’ll be moderately less of a turd to you.”

  Jolene sat back in her chair and one side of her mouth lifted. “Deal.”

  They were still smiling when Dad came back.

  “What’d I miss?”

  “Um. These are really good,” Jolene said, picking up her cheesesteak. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

  I could see the automatic response form on Dad’s lips before he squashed it, and I also saw Jolene grow uncomfortable. She set her half-eaten cheesesteak on the table and spent a solid minute wiping her hands clean on a napkin.

  He’d been going to say anytime, except he didn’t mean anytime. If we’d been back home with Mom, he’d have gladly offered Jolene
a seat at our dining room table whenever she wanted it. But we weren’t sitting around the table he and Mom had restored on their honeymoon. We were in a greasy fast-food place miles away.

  That was Dad’s version of trying. He’d asked Mom to do something she wasn’t ready to do, but instead of staying and helping her get to that place with him, he’d cut and run.

  Somewhere between talking to Jeremy and witnessing Dad at that support group, I’d started to forget that fact. Dad had just given me a huge reminder.

  As the conversation died around us, my high from the newly minted truce between Jeremy and Jolene went with it. I found myself glaring at him. I felt Jeremy’s eyes boring into me, and I could practically hear him saying, Not the plan, bro. I turned to Jolene and stood up.

  “Let’s go.”

  Jolene looked from me to Dad as he said, “Go where?”

  “Out. I don’t know.”

  To Jolene, Dad said, “We’d love to have you join us for dinner again sometime, but I think we need to spend time together as a family tonight.”

  “What. Family?” I said, biting off each word. “Mom didn’t get out of the car when she dropped us off, and I didn’t see you waiting on the curb.”

  Wrong. Wrong thing to say. Jeremy tossed the rest of his sandwich on his plate and rolled his eyes at me.

  Dad looked at me. “Sit down. Now.” His voice was low so as not to carry to the surrounding tables, but a few people were looking anyway.

  Heat rushed to my face. Jeremy was glancing back and forth between Dad and me like he wasn’t sure what I was going to do, if I really was going to try to stare down our father. Try being the operative word, because we both knew how well that would turn out.

  Jolene made things both better and worse. Her presence gave me the guts to consider holding my ground, but she was also the reason I sat back down. Watching Dad drag me out of a restaurant by the collar was not the cool image I cared to present her with. And Dad’s expression said he’d do it. I sat down while it was still my decision to do so. At least Dad gave me that.

  We finished our awkward dinner in silence. When we returned to the apartment, we trailed single file back up the stairs. Jolene squeezed my hand briefly as she passed my door.

  “I’ll call you later,” I told her.

  “Not this weekend,” Dad said. “If he can’t talk to me with respect, he’s not talking to anyone else,” he added to Jolene.

  Our standoff in the hall was significantly longer than the one at the restaurant, but the result was the same. I caved, he won, and I left Jolene in the hallway.

  “This ends right now.” Dad didn’t waste any time once he got that door shut. “Do you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I hear you.” I was standing toe-to-toe with him, saying the words he wanted to hear but not fooling either of us that I was capitulating.

  I’d broached new territory by confronting him in public. I’d felt kind of brilliant for standing up to him instead of only shutting him out, but that feeling had withered quickly. He hadn’t been impressed or intimidated by my challenge. He’d gotten mad—really mad.

  Jeremy, who normally considered me getting chewed out to be the finest spectator sport ever invented, disappeared into Dad’s room and shut the door. I was going to have to deal with him, too, and explain why I couldn’t make it two hours before relapsing into my old hostility even after we’d agreed it was the wrong move. It had felt like the right move, standing up for Jolene when no one else did. But Dad wouldn’t know that, and it wasn’t an excuse.

  “You don’t get to call the shots over here. If you try to pull anything like that again—” He lost his words. “It’s not happening. You can hate me, you can think whatever you want, but you are going to quit the isolationist act right now. I’m not putting up with any more of the attitude or the silent treatment. That room—” he pointed to my bedroom “—is for sleeping. You don’t hide in there the second you arrive and stay in there the whole weekend. You don’t blow off your brother and me to hang out with anyone else either.”

  His anger abated for a moment. “I get that that girl might not have a lot of people in her life that care about her, and I’m glad you do, but...” His anger built back up. “I’m done letting you dictate how things go. I miss my son.” Somehow that last statement was the angriest of all. “I mean, what is this? I know you’re mad about your mom and me—and you’d better not be pulling any of this with her—”

  “I’m not.”

  “—but you need to get over that and get on board with reality right quick. This is your reality. Right here. And it’s mine and Jeremy’s and your mom’s, too. This is what we have. Not forever, I promise you that, but you’re making it harder for everyone, yourself included. If you could try—”

  “Like you’re trying? It’s not enough, Dad. Every weekend that she’s there and we’re here—” and I made sure he knew I was talking about more than Jeremy and me “—it’s not enough.” I wanted him to listen to what he was saying and realize his words were just as true for him as they were for me. I was tired of it. All of it. That was why I’d agreed to try with Dad. But it was a lot harder than I’d thought. I had months of resentment built up, and I couldn’t make it go away in one night. “Try harder.”

  Of all the stuff I’d said that night, those two words seemed to hurt him the most.

  I went to my room without another word.

  Jolene

  Adam’s dad had found his spine at the cheesesteak place, and he wasn’t losing it anytime soon. The “family night” he referred to wouldn’t be fun for either of them. Either way, we’d said goodbye, and I lingered in the hallway, eyeing the door to Dad’s apartment like it was Pandora’s box and if I opened it, all the evil in the world would come rushing out.

  Or, you know, Shelly.

  “What is it with you and hallways?”

  I turned my head and there was Guy, casual as could be, leaning against his doorframe. “Me?” I asked. “Are you talking to me? I thought we’d moved on to barely nodding at each other in stairways.”

  “Come on. Don’t be mad about that. You were heading out. I figured you wouldn’t want me explaining that you spent your birthday with me after I found you crying alone out here.”

  The memory of that night stung. “So you ignored me for my benefit? Thank you for that. Let me repay you.” I turned and walked down the hall—away from Dad’s apartment. I made it only a few steps when I slowed. That direction didn’t hold many more options for me than the other one did.

  “I wasn’t ignoring you. I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend.”

  “Adam’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Whatever you say, Jolene.” Then he stepped to the side, leaving the door to his apartment wide-open. “You want to come in or...?” His gaze slid past me to rest on the door to Dad’s apartment.

  What I wanted was to hang out with Adam, but that door had literally been shut in my face. My other option wasn’t an option at all. And Guy knew that.

  It would have been awkward to explain how Guy and I had met. Plus, Adam’s dad might have gotten the wrong idea, and it wasn’t like I needed to give him another reason to dislike me. Adam might have gotten the wrong idea, too, and I definitely didn’t need that.

  Sometimes, when I thought about it, I got the wrong idea. Even though Guy hadn’t done anything besides feed me and listen to me. He hadn’t tried to touch me or anything. The whole thing was innocent. And I needed his help if I was going to submit my application for the film program. Still, it nagged at me that I had to mentally tell myself that it was okay for us to hang out.

  “Yeah, I’m coming.”

  We ended up watching a movie. It was an old black-and-white film that didn’t make a lot of sense to me. Guy loved it. He kept commenting on the brilliance of a camera angle, or a line of dialogue that I had to admit was
impressive. He wanted me to watch another movie after that, and when I said sure, he pushed himself off the couch by putting one hand on the armrest and the other on my knee. The touch lasted like two seconds tops. He didn’t look at me or let his hand linger or anything. But I still jumped a little. I mentally shook myself, grateful he hadn’t noticed my reaction, as Guy busied himself switching the movies.

  Remote in hand, Guy joined me back on the couch, where I was still sitting rather stiffly despite telling myself to relax. “Cold?”

  I shook my head.

  “You look cold.” His upper body leaned over mine, against mine, and my breath strangled in my throat. Guy didn’t pull back. He turned his head and flicked his eyebrows up at me. “I’m just grabbing you the throw.” He drew my gaze to a fuzzy gray blanket that I hadn’t noticed. He was already fisting it in his hand when I looked, had been since the second he leaned—not over me, but past me. I tried to shrink back into the cushion, worried that he’d suggest I leave because I kept freaking out over nothing. But he didn’t.

  He dropped the throw, and his hand sank into the cushion by my thigh. He was still leaning across me, so we were face-to-face when I looked up. “Jolene. You don’t have to be scared around me. I have an idea of what your life is like. I get it, okay?” He shifted, and my leg rocked against his wrist. “I know what it’s like to feel like no one wants you, like you don’t belong anywhere. You don’t have to feel like that. I don’t care what’s going on out there.” He jerked his head toward the hall. “It never gets past that door. You can always come here. Do you believe that?”

  No. It was stupid. He was trying to force a bonding moment between us. He was being so serious, like I was fragile or something. He barely knew me. I belonged everywhere. Wherever I wanted to be.

  He stayed just as close to me, but I stopped worrying about it. He was acting concerned about me, which, maybe he was. Maybe I’d given him reason to be, considering my birthday meltdown. He didn’t know that had been a onetime thing. A weird convergence of events that had erupted in a never-to-be-repeated way. But the concerned look on Guy’s face, and the way he’d lifted one hand to my shoulder and rubbed tiny circles on it with his thumb, made me realize he wasn’t going to take my word for it. He’d been nice, or what passed for nice to me, and even though I was growing uncomfortable, it would make him uncomfortable if I said anything; that was the last thing I wanted.