by Ann Aguirre
My dad hesitated. Typical. Apart from market fluctuations, he wasn’t a decisive man and usually found it easier to let my mom handle things. But if he took her side blindly... I bit my lip, so angry that I had to clench my hands into fists to keep them from trembling.
“Is that what happened?” he asked Ma.
“He looked a little...ethnic. So I inquired about his background,” she said. “Then I pulled Courtney aside to talk to her in private and he came to eavesdrop. Is it my fault he didn’t like what he heard?” She made a face. “That proves my point. Bad manners, bad upbringing.”
“Was it the one that came roaring out of the garage on a motorcycle?” Dad asked.
As soon as he said that, I knew how this would go. He wouldn’t take my side. To my parents, everything about Max represented “the bad element” and it didn’t matter how hard he’d worked to get where he was. If they ever saw his tattoos, their heads would probably explode. Which meant this argument was completely pointless. Resigning myself to that fact, I wheeled and stalked down the hall to get my bag. There was no point in being here when I was so upset.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Ma called after me.
“Back to Michigan.”
“Out of the question. We’ve got parties to attend, I promised the Cohens that you’d come. Their son is home from Princeton. You remember Joseph, right? He—”
“I don’t care what promises you made,” I said, shouldering my backpack.
When I realized how this week would’ve gone, relief spilled through me. Imagining how shitty Max would’ve felt while my mother threw eligible Jewish guys at me prompted a shudder. Glad you had too much pride to stick around. I’m done, too.
“You can’t just storm out.” Dad stepped in front of me, boxing me in between my mom and the wall.
“Do you plan to physically restrain me and lock me up?” My expression had to be hard as I looked between them. “Because that’s the only way I’m staying.”
I took a step forward and his hands clamped on my shoulders. He wasn’t a big man, but he still had six inches on me, and my mother pushed closer. Her eyes shone with a frantic gleam but I couldn’t tell if she was about to cry or if it was something else. She put a hand on my cheek, and I started to get worried. They didn’t seem to realize how far across the line they were.
“I’m worried about you,” she said quietly.
“Because I’m dating someone you don’t approve of? Guess what, I’m also in a band.”
That shocked her into backing up a step. I took advantage of the opening to yank away from my dad and push through the gap to head for the elevator. My mother ran after me, pulling on my arm to hold me. My dad followed slower, his face serious and heavy with dismay. I could practically read their minds—I was either crazy or on drugs. Either way, I needed an intervention and to go back to rehab.
“You can’t leave,” my father said.
“Watch me.”
“Courtney, don’t do this,” my mother siad. “We’ll talk about it some more. Maybe if you tell me about him...” But I saw right through that tactic; she didn’t care to learn about Max. She just wanted time to nag and wear me down, list all the reasons why we made no sense as a couple.
“If you meant to get to know him, you would have treated him like a person who matters. You would’ve shown us both some respect.”
“What’s that boy done to earn it, other than seduce my daughter? I’m supposed to be glad that you brought home some—”
“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t,” I warned. “Or that’ll be a bridge you can’t cross back again. I’m serious, Ma.”
“You both just need to calm down,” Dad put in.
She spun on him. “You stay out of it, if you’re not helping.”
“I only saw a jacket and a helmet,” he protested. “What am I supposed to say?”
“Tell her to stop this nonsense.”
My father was trying to play peacemaker. “How can I? Is it fair to judge somebody this fast? How much do you know about him? Maybe a background check...”
Silently I winced. They wouldn’t like Max better when they discovered he’d dropped out and earned his GED. They’d only see it as more proof of his unsuitability, whereas to me it proved how strong and determined he was. I ignored the both of them and got my jacket out of the closet. Worst Hanukkah ever.
My mother’s voice went shrill when she realized I was serious about taking off. “If you walk out now, Courtney, we’re cutting you off.”
I glanced at my dad, wondering if he’d go along with this. He wore an uncomfortable expression, heavy silvery brows knit in a faint frown. “Why don’t you just stay for dinner? We’ll have something nice, talk it out. There’s no reason to be rash.”
“Talk to your wife. I thought she cared about being a good hostess, but I guess her manners depend on how many zeroes are on somebody’s tax return.”
“You can’t talk about your mother that way.”
I shrugged. “I would’ve said she can’t treat people I love that way. Sad. Looks like we’re both wrong, huh?”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t like the way you’re acting over this boy, Courtney. You don’t sound rational.”
My brows shut up, as incredulity swamped me. “I’m supposed to sound logical when I’m mad? Nobody sent me that memo. And I’m not staying for dinner. Talk to you later.” I didn’t want to add that last part, but I was trying not to leave them in a dead panic.
“You walking out like this tells me there’s a serious problem,” Dad said soberly.
A sigh escaped me. “I’m clean.”
“We can’t take that chance. I’m not giving you the money to buy whatever you’re on.” Tears trickled down my mother’s cheeks. “This time, you have to get sober on your own.”
I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Whatever. You want my credit cards?”
Pulling out my wallet, I handed them over. “The bank card is mine, you can’t touch what I have in checking. The money in savings from Granddad is mine, too. Otherwise, I’m cut off. I got it.”
“That means no more wire transfers. No more tuition payments. No more rent money.” My dad seemed to think he could make me heel like a bad puppy by reminding me.
“That’s fine. I’m an adult now anyway. I’m sure I can get by. My roommates do.” They didn’t know Max was one of them; that would surely make the situation worse.
As I thought about the payment cutoff dates, I realized they’d probably already paid for my last semester anyway. So I just needed to earn my keep for a few months before looking for a real job or implementing my studio startup plan. The latter was more risky, but in my heart, it was what I wanted to do.
“I don’t think you realize how difficult this will be,” Ma said. “Or what you’re giving up. To me, that’s even more proof that you’re—”
“Maybe I don’t know. But I’ll learn. Obviously I won’t be sending a daily update text anymore. If you’re cutting me loose, that means I’m off the hook. So be sure to tell the Cohens that you’ve given up on me.” I flashed a sweet smile. “I bet your friends will be impressed to hear how well you dish out the tough love on your disappointment of a daughter.” Stepping around my parents, I pushed the elevator button and then handed over the passcard that let into the condo. “I won’t be needing this either, huh?”
My parents stared at me as the doors closed and the elevator jerked, carrying me away. The lobby was deserted when I reached it, apart from the doorman. Not surprising. Max would be long gone. Or maybe he was waiting for me somewhere? Surely he knew I wouldn’t stick around. So I got out my phone as I went out the front doors. Pain pricked me when I saw no new messages. But maybe he’s on the bike. I remembered how he’d left me once in Providence, but he didn’t go far. So maybe...
I sent, I’m so sorry. Where are you?
Outside the wind was bitter cold, ripping through my jacket. I got my hat, scarf and gloves out of
my backpack and bundled up. I’d always loved living near the Magnificent Mile, so while I admired the familiar beauty of the city as I walked, waiting for my phone to ping, I was also quaking inwardly. Max seemed pretty angry when he left. At you, not Ma.
A few blocks later, I still had no messages from him and I found myself at the bus stop. Briefly I considered getting a cab, then I shook my head. I’m poor now. I remembered the train and bus schedules from growing up in the city, so I stopped here. Max could contact me if I was on a bus, which seemed smarter than wandering aimlessly in the cold. I still hadn’t heard from him when the 156 arrived, so I got on, planning to head for Union Station.
Out of habit, I put in my earbuds and listened to music while staring out the window. Somebody sat down next to me but I didn’t turn. Instead I just watched the winter cityscape pass by with a heavy heart and a knot in my throat. If the silence went on too much longer, I might cry, though right now I was fighting it. I handled this all wrong, huh? For the first time since I’d said goodbye, I missed Eli’s voice in my head.
My phone was still dead quiet as I hopped off the bus at the Adams & Canal stop. Union Station was only a block away, but I walked slow, hoping I wouldn’t need a ticket—that Max would text or call, giving me a chance to apologize in person. When my cell buzzed just before I went inside, I nearly dropped it. Pausing, I opened up my messages. It was a text from Nadia, wishing me happy holidays. Sighing, I sent back, You, too.
Soon, she replied, I’m going home for Christmas. See you next year!
Union Station was enormous, imposing on the outside, and there were tons of people scurrying, probably trying to get somewhere last-minute for the holidays. I hovered outside, not wanting to admit this was necessary, but my fingers were numb even through my gloves by the time I admitted defeat an hour later and trudged inside. The interior was gorgeous, historical elegance, but I didn’t have the heart to admire anything; it had been years since I’d been here. My mother preferred to fly. The last time—when I was twelve—I’d gone with my dad to Milwaukee for some reason, probably business-related.
I sat down in the central waiting area, staring at my phone like I could make it respond magically. Because it seemed prudent, I also checked the schedule, and I could still get a ticket for the last train to Ann Arbor. There wouldn’t be any buses running when I got in, though, so I wouldn’t have a way back to Mount Albion. Since I needed to be careful with my money until I found a job, I pondered the best solution. A hotel was out of the question, since the train ticket would cost me eighty bucks. Nadia’s gone. Kia’s gone. What about Angus? I tried calling but it rang a bunch of times, then I got a perky message about him being castaway somewhere tropical with Del. Why didn’t I know he was going to Jamaica?
Though I was scared to dial, I called Max. And got voice mail. It didn’t even ring... He must’ve turned it off. He really doesn’t want to talk to me right now. I suspected he thought I’d spend the week with my parents, as planned, but seriously, how could I? Closing my eyes against a hot rush of tears, loneliness clutched with icy fingers, exacerbated by the gusts of wind that blew through the lobby. Strangers hurried by with their bags and nobody gave me a second look, even hunched forward to hide my face, like I’d come down with a bad case of invisibility. I hadn’t felt this way since Eli died, though it was a different sort of desolation.
My voice sounded thick as I left a message. “Like I said, I’m really sorry. Please call me when you get this. I’m at the train station. I’ll...be here until six. I’m going home.”
The time ticked away while I ran my phone battery down, listening to sad music. I left buying my ticket until the last possible minute, but Max didn’t call. He didn’t come, either. But I’d known he had a habit of taking off when he was hurt, so this didn’t come as a surprise, even if I felt pretty battered. So I got up and silently ran my debit card through the machine, buying a coach seat for Ann Arbor.
Last resort, okay.
I pulled up Evan’s contact and called, below sea level in every possible way. It wouldn’t surprise me if he refused to help out. Murphy’s Law was all over me today.
He picked up on the second ring, obscenely cheerful. “What’s up, funny girl? Did you miss me?”
“Um. So. My plans fell through, and I’m in a bind. I’m coming into Ann Arbor by train tonight, late, and I could really use a ride. Is there any way—”
“I’ll be there,” he said. “What time?”
I checked my ticket. “Eleven-twenty, assuming we’re on schedule.”
“Meet me where the taxis line up, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks. I’m sorry to put you out.”
“It’s not a problem. I didn’t have plans.”
“I’ll give you gas money.”
His voice came across gentle. “Don’t worry about it right now, I can always dock your cut of our next gig for transportation fees. See you in a few hours.”
My chest hurt as I hung up. My battery was down to 20 percent, so I put the phone away. No more music, unless the train had charging stations. Probably not in coach, I guessed. There was still no word from Max. He must have been home by then or nearly so, if he’d driven straight through. It was almost six, and the garbled announcer called for us to board over tinny speakers.
So this is happening, I thought.
And got on the train alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Evan was waiting when I came out of the train station. He hopped out of the van and studied me for a few seconds. But all he said was, “Is that all you have?”
I nodded. “Thanks for coming.”
“It’s fine. You’d do the same for me.”
“Except for the fact that I don’t have a car.”
“Details.” His breath showed in a puff of smoke, and he exaggerated a shiver as he opened the door for me. “Come on, let’s try to get you home before one.”
“That’d be good.”
But I was scared of going to the apartment, too, afraid of facing Max and how hurt he must be. It was worse because I had to acknowledge my own role in that. But it was too cold to make Evan stand around while I freaked out. So I climbed in, then he shut the door after me and rounded the van. The vehicle shifted as he got in, reminding me how solid he was.
My parents wouldn’t approve of you either, I thought.
We drove for, like, five miles in complete silence before he said, “Do you want to talk? If not, I’m turning on the radio because this silence is kind of soul-killing.”
“Sorry. I don’t really want to but I probably owe you an explanation.”
He shook his head. “If you’d rather listen to music, it’s fine.”
As he said that, I realized I wanted someone else’s opinion, preferably a guy, because I hoped maybe Evan could tell me just how bad I’d fucked up on a scale of one to ten and what I should do to make it up to Max. So before he reached for the dial, I started talking. Since he’d noted that I must have money because I didn’t flinch over dropping eighteen hundred on keyboard equipment, this probably wouldn’t come as a complete shock. He listened in silence until I finished.
“Damn,” he said finally, shaking his head. “Your mom is some piece of work, Courtney.”
“She wasn’t so bad before.”
“Before?”
Before Eli died. Before I lost it. Before I woke up in a white room, her rocking and crying, “I can’t lose you, you’re my precious baby, my whole world.” I suspected whenever she looked at me, she saw that same lifeless, broken girl, someone she had to make decisions for and protect at all costs. But knowing that didn’t change how I felt about what had happened with Max.
“My boyfriend died when I was in high school,” I said. “And I didn’t handle it well. Ended up in rehab.”
“Damn. So we got ourselves a real rock star on keyboards.” He sliced a questioning look toward me when I didn’t even crack a smile. “Too soon? Not funny?”
“It wasn’t the joke. I just
don’t have a laugh in me right now.”
“You want my opinion, then?”
“Please.” That was why I’d told him, after all. Well, that, and a sense of obligation, since he had come out late at night to help me.
“If it was me, I’d feel like shit. I’d figure you were fucking around with me, slumming until graduation. If we were together and you didn’t bother to give me a heads-up, I’d think you either didn’t take us serious or didn’t care about me taking one right in the face. Worse, maybe you thought it’d be funny to shove me in the deep end to see if I sink or swim.”
“Shit. None of that’s true.”
“He doesn’t know that. I hate to say it, but for a smart girl, you sure fucked up.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, I bowed my head. “I know.”
There was no point in explaining my motivations to Evan. I’d save the truth for Max and hope he had a smidgen of understanding tucked away. I couldn’t stand it if this was the end for us. The drive back to Mount Albion went quicker than I wanted and slower than molasses. But an hour and ten minutes after I got in the van, he pulled up outside my apartment.
“You live together, right?”
I nodded.
“If things get too awkward, you can crash at my place for a while. I have a spare room and my uncle’s not coming back until November.”
While the idea that things might go that badly sent my stomach into a permanent spin, it was also comforting that Evan was willing to put me up, though he knew how I’d screwed up. I let out a slow breath, staring up at the building. From the front, it was impossible to tell if Max was home, but a glance around the parking lot and I located his bike, parked in the usual spot.
“I appreciate it. Well, I guess I better go up, huh?”
“It won’t do any good to put it off,” he agreed.
“See you next year. I hope.” With that, I grabbed my backpack and went to face the damage.
Part of me hoped Max would be asleep, just so I had an excuse to put this off, but I knew he wouldn’t be. When I unlocked the apartment door, he was on the couch bathed in the flickering light of the TV screen with a beer in his hand and two empties on the table next to him. He didn’t speak as I closed the door behind me. In fact, he didn’t even look at me.
