Boy of the Week

by Emily Camp

  I was enjoying my sundae while sitting in between Evan and Gavin.

  “So,” Greg said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you two.”

  I about dropped my spoon and looked up. How could I have let myself relax? This evening I almost let myself feel like we were a family. But at the same time, I knew nothing was ever good for long.

  Especially when it came to men.

  I remember watching a movie where the girl called all her mom’s boyfriends Skip, because that’s what they did. They always eventually skipped. That’s what I was waiting on now. Gavin slurped the sides of his ice cream cone as it dripped, clueless to what was about to happen.

  “I know Evan already spilled the beans,” Greg furrowed his brow at Evan.

  Evan shrugged all innocent-like.

  “So, you are going to propose?” I asked slowly, because, that’s what a part of me hoped this was about; even though I didn’t want to get too excited.

  “Are you going to live with us?” Gavin’s eyes grew huge with surprise. His mouth rimmed with chocolate.

  “I guess that’s the answer to my next question.” Greg’s laugh was deep. “I wanted to do this the right way and ask you two if it’s okay if I marry your mom.”

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Gavin bounced.

  “I want to make it a surprise. Can you keep it a secret,” Greg asked.

  I snorted a laugh.

  “I can.” Gavin glared at me.

  “That’s right.” Evan fist bumped Gavin.

  “It’ll be so cool. Can Evan and me get bunk beds?” Gavin’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Bunkbeds do rock.” Evan shrugged when his dad looked at him.

  “We’ll figure all that out later. Your mom has to say yes first,” He said.

  It should have been weird for an ex-boyfriend to become a step-brother, but I looked at Evan giving Gavin another fist bump and it didn’t seem that bad really, having a brother my age. Gavin having male role models in his life would definitely be a positive.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  I knew something was up the minute we pulled into Applebees. A lump rose in my throat and I felt like I was going to throw up. It’d been three days since Greg fixed my car and I was enjoying my freedom again. Not only that, I felt like I had someone I could count on if it did break down. Evan and Greg both knew a lot about cars.

  The last time, I’d been stranded with no one to call. Plus, none of mom’s boyfriends had ever taken the time to let Gavin help him fix a vehicle. Things that my mom and I didn’t know how to do. And what about my car? It’d been sitting there for three months and she’d dated a few men since then, but none of them cared that I was without a vehicle. Not that I even saw much of them.

  My fears were confirmed when we sat at the bar instead of a table. Gavin was staying with a friend. It was just me and my mom tonight.

  “Long island iced tea.” She ordered before we even looked at the menu.

  “Mom?”

  Her keys rattled as she tossed them on the bar. “Kacey?”

  The bartender sat her drink in front of her and she sipped on her straw.

  What was going on? This was her break up ritual. Wasn’t she supposed to be engaged?

  “What happened?” My eyes flicked from the drink to her.

  “Nothing, why?”

  “The drink.”

  She sighed and pressed a couple fingers to her temple. “Greg proposed.”

  “That’s a good thing, right? We’re celebrating?”

  “No.” She rolled her eyes like she was the teenager here, not me.

  “Why not?”

  “I said no.” She sipped some more.

  “I thought you liked Greg.” The knot in my throat kept getting bigger.

  “I don’t want to get married.” The straw gurgled as she slurped on ice. The tea gone.

  “I like him, Gavin likes him.” Finally thought there might be someone constant in our lives.

  She motioned for the waiter to bring another. The restaurant began to fill up around us. The chatter getting louder, only making this more confusing for me.

  “I can’t marry him.”

  “Why not?” The waiter brought me my water.

  “It won’t work.”

  “You love him, and Gavin and I like him. We get along with Evan. I don’t understand.”

  “I’m still married.”

  It was as if the commotion around us faded. My pulse filled my ears. “You never divorced dad?”

  “Nope.” She slurped the second drink gone and ordered another.

  “Maybe you should eat something.” I always hated breakup nights. When I had to be the mom. But this one was the worst of all. I honestly thought they would get married. I’d never hoped any of her other boyfriends would become my step-dad. And that was exactly what I got for hoping, wasn’t it?

  “Waiter.” She waved him over and we ordered dinner, but I knew it wasn’t going to get here before she filled up on alcohol.

  “Would you marry Greg if you and dad got divorced?”

  She pondered this as she sucked on the straw. “Probably not.”

  “Why?”

  “We all know how my first marriage worked out.” She waved a hand in the air, her mouth never leaving her drink. My mom was only a drinker after a breakup she took hard. This meant she had feelings for Greg. I already knew that, though. I sat here in this exact spot with her after their first breakup about a year ago.

  “Greg isn’t dad.”

  She turned toward me, leaned in and tapped my nose with her pointer finger. “And Jack isn’t your past boyfriends.”

  “I didn’t say he was.”

  She lifted her drink this time, swirling the ice to get more out. “He’s a keeper.”

  “Well, that was my intent.” If Jack and I broke up, I didn’t even want to think about it. I wouldn’t just lose a boyfriend, I’d lose my best friend. The thought scared me more than it should. Now I could barely breathe through the lump in my throat. If we broke up, if he broke up with me, I would be … I didn’t know.

  ***

  “You hang up first.” My feet dangled off the side of my bed. My phone on my pillow beside me, my head propped by my hand. We’d been facetiming for an hour and I’d flipped and flopped so many times my sheets were a wadded mess and I was sideways across my mattress. My hair was down, though normally by this time it’d be up in a messy bun or something. But since I was talking to Jack, I left it after babysitting my drunk mother.

  On my phone screen, Jack smiled at me. His face without glasses, eyes half lidded, and his head on his pillow. “No, you hang up.”

  “I’m not hanging up.” I giggled rolling over on my back. I put my feet on my bed.

  He sighed as if I was exasperating. “Five o’clock is going to come early.”

  I felt a little guilty for keeping him up before a wrestling meet, but I wanted to talk to him. It was a Friday night. How can one not stay up late on a Friday night? Besides, I needed the distraction from my mother’s recent break up. “I can’t help it if I’m too irresistible.”

  This made him grin again. “Bye Kacey. I love you.”

  Wait … what? Before I could say anything, not that I was going to say that. The screen went blank and he was gone. I turned my phone off and tossed it like it was covered in flu germs. Then I sat up, scooting to the side of my bed. My feet planted firmly on the ground. Maybe I just heard wrong? Possibly? That was it. If he really said that, then he would have stuck around to hear me say it back. Which I totally would not. Ugh it sucked not having a friend to talk to about this.

  Just as I was getting ready to stand and pace, the doorbell rang. That was odd. I wasn’t sure I wanted to look at my phone just yet, but I knew it was after midnight. The doorbell rang again, not just once, but three times quickly.

  When I opened my bedroom door, my mom crept out of her room. Her hair disheveled, her eyes sleepy and bloodshot.

  We looked quizzical at one another and the
doorbell went off again.

  “Who on earth?” She grumbled, rubbing her eyes. I followed her down the stairs. She seemed to have sobered since we’d been home. She peered out the peephole before she stood back and took a deep breath. Her hand poised on the knob.

  “Mom?” I didn’t like how pale her face was.

  She patted her hair down in the reflection of the glass.

  “Becky.” A voice loud from the other side made my heart both shatter and leap at the same time. I hadn’t heard him in so long. Part of me wanted him to be back, the other was optimistic that she could get a divorce and marry Greg.

  My mom cleared her throat. “What do you want, Tony?”

  “Just open the door.” My dad rang the doorbell again.

  “You’re going to wake the kids.”

  “You can get a divorce now,” I whispered.

  She put her finger to her lips.

  “Just let me in, Becky.”

  She had her hand on the door knob this entire time, but she didn’t move to open it. She looked at me. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t care if I ever saw him again. But if she could get free, it would be worth it.

  “Please.” He said with a lilt to his voice. “I need to see you and the kids.”

  I wasn’t much of a kid anymore, but I’m sure he didn’t know that.

  “You’ve done alright without seeing us this long,” she said.

  “I have to talk to you.”

  When she didn’t respond, I said, “She wants a divorce.”

  She glared at me. “Go to your room.”

  “Bug, is that you?” We could see his shadow try to peer inside. “It’s daddy. You’ll let me in, right?”

  My mom pointed up the steps. I shook my head.

  “Come on, let me in, girls.”

  “Get the divorce.” I said when my mom began to twist the knob.

  She clicked the lock, and then she opened the door. He stood there in front of me. All this time I wondered what I would feel if I ever saw him again. I felt rage, to be truthful and hoped the only reason she opened the door was to slap him and get the papers signed.

  It was after we got home from Applebees and she pulled the divorce papers out of her nightstand, showing them to me. Her signature on them, but nothing on the line where his name went. If she were sober, I don’t think she would have shown them to me. I felt like crying now. He stood there, his dark hair, long and wiry with some grey. His face sunken in and wrinkled. He seemed a lot smaller than what I remembered. Much smaller than Greg. When I thought of Greg, he was like a papa bear, safe and secure. My dad, he didn’t look like he could fight off a fly. He didn’t wait for my mom to invite him in, he just barged by us as if he owned the place. Maybe he did. Mom had been keeping the fact that they were still married from me, maybe he owned our house too.

  “Mom.” I said grabbing her by the arm. She shrugged me off. Closing the door behind her and following my dad into the kitchen.

  He paced, his hands in his hair. “I’m sorry, Becky.”

  “What do you want?” She stalked back and forth.

  “I’m … I’ve been a mess.”

  “Mom,” I pleaded.

  I didn’t like the way she was looking at him all concerned like she was going to forget what he did. She was on the rebound, it was dangerous.

  “The papers,” I tugged on her arm.

  “Kacey, go upstairs,” she said.

  My dad finally looked up and saw me as if he just now noticed I was here. His eyes were glossy. His pupils huge. “Kacey.”

  I pulled my arms over my middle. He had no right to look at me like I was his, because I wasn’t. Not anymore.

  “What’s going on?” She strode across the kitchen to the coffee pot.

  “You seriously are not going to make him a cup of coffee,” I said. She was clearly still drunk and not in her right mind. She needed to get the papers signed.

  “Kacey. I said go to your room.” Her voice rose.

  He looked at her then back at me. Then he waved my mom off.

  “Come here,” he motioned for me to step closer. He was crazy if he thought I was going anywhere near him. Both my parents were certifiably insane.

  I stepped back, “You need to give mom a divorce and leave.”

  “She doesn’t want that.” He looked at my mom, confused. She didn’t say anything. “Bug.” He reached his arms out for me.

  I flinched at the nickname. “Don’t touch me.”

  My mom stepped between us, taking his focus off me and on to her. She put a hand on his chest.

  “She just needs a minute.” Then she turned toward me. Her face stern. “Go to your room. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

  “He needs to leave,” I said.

  “This isn’t your business, Kacey. This is grown up stuff.”

  It was like she had slapped me. As if I hadn’t been the second grown up in this house for the last four years. Like I wasn’t her mother tonight when she was sloshing drunk earlier. “Mom.”

  “I said go to your room.”

  “Now, Becky, let me see her.”

  “I don’t want to see you,” I shouted, thankful that Gavin wasn’t home to hear all this.

  My mom then took me by the arm. Her grip so tight it hurt. She leaned into me. “You need to go upstairs now. I’ll talk to you in the morning, but there is nothing here to concern you. I mean it, Kacey.”

  “I hate you.” I spewed the words out before I gave them a second thought. I wasn’t sure who I was talking to … him, her, or both? Then I ran upstairs to my room and slammed my door as hard as I could. The wall rattled. I fell face first on my bed. What right did he have to be here anyway? And why did she think I wasn’t a grown up and this wasn’t my business when I’d spent the evening taking care of her. When I was the one who took care of Gavin when she worked late or went out on dates.

  ***

  My mom let him stay the night. He slept on the sofa, but I was livid. When I went downstairs the next morning and saw him sprawled out and snoring, I made sure to make lots of noise. I clattered pans in the kitchen even though I was only making myself a glass of orange juice. I was too ticked to eat anything. My dad could not just waltz in here and ruin everything. We were doing alright without him.

  “Kacey,” my mom whispered as she shuffled into the kitchen. “Stop.”

  “This isn’t fair.”

  Again, her face stern. “It isn’t about being fair. This is life and you have no clue what’s going on.”

  “Dad!” Gavin shouted in all excitement after the front door swung open.

  My mom’s attention was only diverted for a minute before she turned back toward me. “You need to grow up. He needs us.”

  “We needed him four years ago, or did you forget that? It’s not fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair.”

  “I know life’s not fair. If it were, I would’ve had a father the last four years and not had to be one to my little brother. And now we had the chance to have a good dad and he comes back and ruins it.”

  “That’s it. Go to your room.” Her eyes were watery, and I noticed a vein throbbing in her forehead as the aspirin bottle rattled in her hand.

  “Fine,” I said, then went right back up to my room. I put on my jeans, a sweatshirt and my Converse.

  If he was going to be here, I wasn’t. I didn’t know where I was going. Jack had a wrestling meet today about two hours away. The Saturday meets lasted all day. I shoved my hands in the pocket of my hoodie after pulling my hair in a ponytail and headed out the door.

  “Kacey, dad’s here!” Gavin said all excited.

  “Yep.” I said.

  “Where’re you going?” My dad that time. I refused to speak to him, or even look at him.

  My mom didn’t say a word. She didn’t try to stop me. She didn’t ask where I was going or if I was going to be okay. I left the house thankful once again, for Greg, because I got in my car and drove away.

  Chapter
Thirty-four

  It was dark when I finally got a text.

  It was Jack. Got first place.

  I smiled when his picture came. His hair was sweaty and messy. He wore his hood with a medal around his neck.

  Great. I replied. I didn’t know what else to say. I hadn’t talked to him since last night. He knew nothing about my dad, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell him.

  Sorry, I didn’t text you earlier. Haven’t had cell service at the tournament. That school was in the middle of nowhere.

  It wasn’t like I was waiting around for it, but it did make me wonder about how our conversation went last night. I had plenty of time for wondering today, too.

  It’s okay. When will you be home? I was parked by the curb outside his house.

  We’re pulling into the school now. Good. He’d be here soon.

  So ten minutes? I replied.

  About. Why?

  Just wondering. I didn’t want to tell him I was waiting on him. It felt somewhat stalkerish.

  Do you want me to come over?

  A guy whizzing by on a skateboard skidded to a stop, kicked up the board and walked back to my car. I stared down at my phone, pretending not to notice. When he knocked on my window, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t see him.

  I rolled down the window a whoosh of cool air came in.

  “Kacey Jones, what are you doing here?” Of course, it would be one of my many boyfriends of school year past. Carson.

  “Waiting on someone.” I motioned toward my current boyfriend’s house.

  Carson just stood there shuffling from one foot to the other. He looked across the road.

  “Yeah, I heard you were dating Jack.”

  “You heard correct.”

  “I haven’t seen you online,” he said, referring to the game, not social media.

  “I don’t play anymore.”

  He spun the wheel on his skateboard, squinted when Jack pulled into his driveway. “Well, you I guess I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah.” Then before he was out of earshot I said, “Carson.”