She Wants It All: Sheridan Hall Series, Book Three
Page 20
I let out a loud exhale. “I won’t flake, Ma. I want this for myself more than you want it for me.” I’m not sure if that’s true, but it sounds good.
She pulls me into a hug. “I guess you deserve a little independence. You’ve proven yourself time and time again. You have great grades, you’ve been good with money, and you look healthy. You’re making good food choices?”
I roll my eyes over her shoulder. “Yes, mom. Now can you please go?”
She loosens her grip on me. “I better. I left your sister with the kid, God help the sweet thing.”
“What did you name him?”
“Her. We named her Betty.”
I nod. “Cute. You better go take care of her.”
She smirks, giving me that sideways “mom” glance. “You know I only harass you because I care. I don’t want you to have to struggle the way I did, finding myself with no adult input.”
“I know.” I’ve heard it all before. My grandparents didn’t support my mother, and they didn’t approve of her decision to lead a celibate life. They hated that she used in vitro to conceive us, blah blah.
I smile when an idea to distract her dawns on me. “You know, Mom. You should focus on Martha. She told me that she’s trying to get a senior to ask her to prom.”
Mom stops moving and meets my gaze. “What? She’s only a freshman. She’s not going to senior prom this year.”
“I agree!” I shrug in a dramatic fashion. “She’s wild. She needs your attention more than me.” Fuck you, Martha. I love her, but she needs to be kept in her place.
As Mom mumbles about Martha and the restrictions she’ll impose on her when she gets home, I walk her to her pickup truck. I kiss her goodbye, thanking her for her help and her visit.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you were thrilled to see me. Don’t make me come back.”
“You don’t have to come back. I promise.”
Her smile makes me feel a little guilty. “I miss you, Buttercup.”
I kiss her cheek. “I miss you too, crazy lady.”
Watching her taillights disappear out of the Sheridan parking lot is a welcome sight. “Buh-bye, Mom,” I say to the empty lot. Only my nutty mother would drive her clunker of a pickup truck into New York City. I picture her navigating the busy streets and giggle.
Until the dumpster catches my eye and I think of Dave.
Back inside, I text him.
Did you make it to Albany? Are you ok?
Usually he texts me back right away. A pang of insecurity tugs at my heart, but I shake it away. He’s probably dealing with his parents. He’ll call. This separation isn’t a big deal. I’m a big girl. Still, I can’t help but miss the way his arm feels holding me against his body. No matter what I told my mother about being in control, I know—I’m already a goner.
Dave
Tuck and I listen to music the entire three-hour trip from NJU to Albany. By the time we pull into my driveway, we’ve compiled a list of ten new songs we want to try out. I grab my guitar and my backpack out of the backseat and stand with Tuck, who’s staring at the elaborate double doors to my family’s suburban McMansion.
I wait, but he doesn’t move. “What are you thinking, big guy?”
He huffs. “I’m thinking I’d rather be anywhere but here.”
“Yeah, me too. But snap out of it. I need you to turn on the charm for my parents.” Arlene and Andrew Novak like Tuck more than they’ll ever like me. I’m fine with that and I get it. Tuck is more like them, at least outwardly. To the world he’s a hard-working, studious college freshman, but I’ve seen his devious side. He’s never evil, but he always has a plan. I think that’s why we get along so well. I rarely have a plan.
“Follow my lead,” he says and reaches for the door.
He pushes it open. The smell of popcorn hits me. “Helloooo. Anybody home?” he yells.
Voices and footsteps head toward us. My little sister, Casey, jumps into my arms. “You’re home!” With my two older sisters away at school, Casey’s the only one left in the big house with my parents. With three years left of high school, she’ll be the lone Novak child until my sisters move back. Which I’m sure will happen the way my mom spoils us all.
Dad and Mom rush to the foyer to greet us. Dad’s still in his Cornell professor outfit—khakis, button-down shirt, and a tie covered with multi-colored whales. He has a collection of wacky ties. Keeps the kids awake, he always says.
He shakes Tuck’s hand while Mom waits for Casey to detach herself from me. Mom’s in her pajamas, and when she pulls me into a hug, I smell her familiar perfume. Every year, I buy her a bottle for Christmas.
She stares at me wide-eyed, like she can’t believe what she’s seeing. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you.” She turns to Tuck. “Hi, sweetheart.”
He hugs her. “We missed you, Aunt Arlene. And my parents too—but they’re away.” Tuck’s father, Uncle Garrett, my mom’s brother, is on a cruise to Bermuda with his new girlfriend. Tuck’s mom is spending her alimony in Florida with her sister. Despite his parents not being available, Tuck thought we’d be okay kissing ass this week anyway because Uncle Garrett will follow my parents’ lead. Tuck has their system of parenting down pat.
“But you’ll stay with us, right?” Mom asks.
“Absolutely.” Tuck sniffs the air. “What’s that amazing smell?”
Casey pulls Tuck by the arm. “Popcorn and appetizers. It’s movie night. Come.”
Dad puts his arm around me as we walk to the living room. “Good to see you, son.”
“You too, Dad.” It’s the first thing I’ve said since I walked in. It is good to see him, but I wish my dad and I had more in common. We’re like night and day. There are times when we’re stuck together, like if we have a long drive somewhere, and we don’t talk for hours. I like the man, I do. But we’re not buddies like Tuck and his dad.
We all plop onto the sectional where the movie is paused, and my sister brings Tuck and I bowls overfilled with snacks. As we shove handfuls of popcorn in our face, my mind wanders to Maggie and our upcoming Roberto’s date.
While Tuck entertains my parents and sister with stories of college life, I sneak my phone out of my pocket and check my texts. There are three from Maggie. She misses me. I smile and picture her in her cowboy boots smiling back.
“You set up your phone?” Conversation stops when my sister calls me out. “And why don’t I have the number?”
I wave the phone around. “Oh, this? I just set it up—”
“Dave has a girlfriend now.” Tuck lifts his eyebrows at me. He knows what he’s doing, so I don’t object. “She’s a cool girl. Pre-vet student. They study together all the time.”
Even though he’s across the couch, I can see my dad’s face light up. “That’s good news. I’m glad she motivates you.”
My sister scowls. “Why would she want to hang out with you?”
I give her the finger. My mother, sitting next to me, smacks my arm but yells at her. “Casey!”
Casey ignores her, staying focused on me and folding her legs under herself. “It’s just that you’re all into the band and stuff. You’ve never had a girlfriend, and now you land a nerd?”
Tossing my empty bowl on the ground, I grab Tuck’s to finish his off. “Maggie may be a nerd, but she’s also the most beautiful girl on the planet.”
They all stop and stare. Even Tuck.
“That’s an extreme statement,” Casey says. “You mean present company excluded, right?”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously, you and Mom are way more beautiful.”
My mom nods. “Thank you, David. Now tell me about this Maggie. Where’s she from?”
With the green light from my parents and Tuck’s blessing in the form of a wink, I ramble on and on about Maggie. How she lives on a farm in Delaware with her mom and her little sister, Martha, who’s Casey’s age. How she loves animals, reading, and her friends. How she lives in Sheridan a
nd helped everyone in the basement deal with Frank’s death. With each word I tell them, my chest thuds with a heartbeat only for Maggie. I still have a hard time believing she’s mine.
My parents stare at me like deer in headlights as I go on and on. Finally, when I’ve rambled off every PG-rated fact I can about Maggie, I stop talking.
“You’re so in love,” Casey sings with a smirk.
I don’t argue.
“We’d love to meet her sometime,” my mother says. “I’ll even make her my chicken marsala.” As good as Roberto’s may be, I’m sure the chicken marsala can’t hold a candle to my mother’s version.
Dad leans back, flipping the lever for the recliner and lifting his bottom half. “It sounds like she knows the value of hard work. Growing up on a farm will do that. I like her already.” With that, Tuck nudges my leg with his. The plan is in motion.
After we catch up, we leave my mom and Casey to watch the movie. Tuck and my dad decide we should have cigars on our back patio. I tell them I’ll join them in a minute and go upstairs to my old room to call Maggie. Not only will I get to hear her voice, but Tuck will have time to schmooze my father.
She picks up on the first ring. “I miss you, come back.” Her sweet voice sounds like an angel’s.
I lie on my old comforter, wishing she were next to me instead of a state away. “Hey, beautiful. Did I wake you?”
“No. I was waiting for your call. I wanted to make sure you made it okay.”
“You’re sweet. How’s your paper?”
“It’s coming along. How’s it going with the parents?” she asks.
“So far, so good. Tuck’s working the room. I raved about you all night. I think my parents and my sister love you as much as I do now.”
Silence follows.
I replay the words I just said and realize that I used the big “L” word. My heartbeat races and I start to sweat. “I….”
Then I take a deep breath.
Fuck it. I’m over being nervous about Maggie.
“Yep. I said it. You don’t have to say it back. I know it’s probably too soon to make sense, but I don’t care. Still, I didn’t mean to say it over the phone where I can’t see your face to see if you’re freaked or not, but—”
“Stop talking!” She laughs, and I wait, cringing. I’m such an idiot. “I’m not freaked.” Her voice is light, musical. “Not at all. I’m the opposite of freaked.”
I smile. Even though she can’t see my reaction, I hope she can feel it. “I’m glad.”
“I—” she starts.
“Wait! We have to change the topic.” I stop her in case she’s going to say it back. I don’t think I can handle being hours away and hear her say it. Because if I’m ever lucky enough to hear the words “I love you too” come from Magdalena Patrinski’s mouth, I’m going to have to kiss her. Hard. And I can’t do that from here, lying on my twin-sized bed in my childhood room. “I have to get back to the schmoozing plan. I’m more motivated now than ever to be at NJU next year. With you.”
“Aw,” she sings. “You better go and make that happen.”
“And you go make the summer of your dreams happen. I’ll think of you all night.”
“Me too.” Her voice lowers, and I picture her in bed, cradling the phone next to her cheek. “I miss your hands on my body…the way you kiss my earlobe and it makes my tingle.”
The same jolt I get when she touches me course through my body. “I make you tingle?”
“You do. My God, you do.” Her sexy voice draws out the “do’s.” Then she adds, “But maybe I’m just in lov—”
“No, no, no. Don’t say it.”
She huffs.
“If you say it, I’ll have to get in the car and drive back.”
When she laughs again, I want to hug her through the damn phone. She’s really going to say it. She loves me too. Holy freaking shit. “Okay, okay. I better go. You’re too much sexy for me right now. I’ll see you in a couple of days, right, beautiful?”
“Yes. Can’t wait.”
“Me neither.”
We end the call. I shut my eyes and hold the phone to my chest, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. A few weeks ago, Maggie didn’t know me. She knew the stories about me, but she didn’t know I wanted to be with her. That she was the only girl I wanted, forever and always.
Now here we are. Not only are we friends, not only are we friends who have sex, but we’re friends who are saying the “L” word to each other. Everything is simple. We gel. It’s all working out. I haven’t screwed anything up yet. Now all I need to do is get back to her. And most importantly, convince my father that I don’t need to be stuck in Albany all summer.
With that thought, I jump off my bed, motivated to deal with my parents as quickly as possible and get back to NJU and Maggie.
Outside, the nighttime air is cool. I look around the pitch-black yard and see the glow from the tips of Tuck’s and my father’s cigars. Their voices bellow through the darkness.
Tuck sees me approaching and walks to me, stopping me before I reach the patio. “Listen. I loosened up Uncle Andy for you. And he’s hitting the scotch pretty hard. Talk to him.”
He hands me his half-smoked, chewed up cigar. I scowl and give it back. “I’ll pass, thanks. What should I say?”
He puts his hand on my chest, holding the cigar between his fingers. “Remember our goal. He has to trust us for the summer. Tell him about your plan for the band. He only wants to see you try harder whether that’s school or music. Give him what he wants.”
I nod, and he pats me on the shoulder as he walks past to the house. I look at my dad and take a deep breath. When I reach him, I drop into Tuck’s empty seat.
“Cigar?” he offers.
I shake my head.
“Scotch?”
I lift my eyebrows.
He laughs a deep, belly laugh. “Kidding. Your mother would kill me.”
I force a chuckle and lean forward resting my elbows on my knees. “How are you, Dad?”
He leans forward too, holding the glass with both hands between his legs. “I’m good. I’m glad the school year’s almost over.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
He pauses, taking a long sip. “Tucker’s not excited about the summer internship. Your mother worked hard to get that for you. We thought it would help you take your future more seriously. I know you don’t listen to me when I tell you, but if you work hard now, your life will be easier later.”
This isn’t the first time he’s said this, not by a long shot, and I’m not sure I agree. What if you make all these plans and then life makes a turn? What if you work hard and miss out on all kinds of experiences, like a summer tour with The Dregs or time with the girl of your dreams? I’m not sure how to explain to him.
“Life can’t be all work, Dad. Look at Frank. If he sacrificed a good time to have an easier future, he’d have lost out. It’s hard to plan for a life when you never know where you’ll end up.”
“Terrible what happened to Frank,” my father says. “But that’s not the way to look at life. God willing, you’ll have many years ahead of you. What do you want to do, David? Just float through life with the excuse that you could die at any minute? You tell me how you want to live and make me understand. Where do you want to end up?”
I shake my head. “I’m only nineteen. I have no idea where I want to end up.”
“Then why should your mother and I keep paying for you to be away at college? You can be here and not know what you want to do with your life too.”
“Don’t you see?” I pretend I’m talking to Tuck instead of my straight-laced father so that I get out the words in my head. “All I know for now is that I have one passion. Well, two now. Music and Maggie. And a summer internship away from both of them, or either of them, won’t satisfy me. I need to be at NJU, near the band. And with Maggie.”
“Fine,” he says. I know his tone. I’ll only get a few more sentences in before he loses his cool. �
�You want to follow your passion, I get that. But you have to take active steps. You can’t sit by and hope things happen. If you want to do music, then do it.”
I know what’s coming.
“We pulled a lot of strings to get you the Juilliard audition, and you couldn’t be bothered to fill out the paperwork.”
Yep. There it is. I’ll never live that down. I run my hands through my hair and shut my eyes for a second to regroup. Arguing with him won’t get me back to NJU and Maggie. “Juilliard wasn’t for me.” It’s not entirely true. I’d have loved to go there in theory, but I didn’t want to put in the effort.
“What is for you? That’s what I’m trying to get at. If it’s the band, then stop screwing around and make a plan. Market yourselves, take lessons, get a manager, whatever. But no matter what, the grades have to come up.”
“I’m studying like crazy.” Another lie, but it’s all I have for now. “I’m working on making the band into something big for the summer—”
“Tuck told me about your plans and the summer tour.”
I turn my palms to the sky but keep my voice steady, trying to get him to understand. “It may be a long shot, but we can’t do it from the statehouse in Albany. We have to be near the city.”
He huffs an exasperated sigh and leans back in his chair. The backyard is quiet, but for the crickets and the ice sliding around in his glass. We’re done talking. It’s always the same conversation anyway.
Finally, he turns to me. “How about this? You get the summer tour, and I’ll let you go on the tour and stay at NJU next year.”
I smile and exhale, not realizing until that moment that I’d been holding my breath.
He points his glass toward me. “But, if you don’t get it, you come home and take the internship. I want you doing something productive this summer. I won’t have you lazing around the city with your burnout friends—”
“Deal,” I practically yell. I ignore the insult to the band and take whatever nugget he’s holding out to me at this point.