Whit: I get it. I feel the same way about my mom. Look, I need to go. Guess I’ll see you in St. Lucia?
Lucy: Of course. I hope you have a great semester. :)
Sweet. Fucking. Hell. I would hand her my heart if I thought there was a chance in hell she’d take it, and she tells me to have a good semester? Then punctuates that sentiment with an emoticon? I need to go find Knox and get drunk.
Chapter 5
Whit
I thoughtI knew what awkward felt like. I mean, I’ve woken up in a field wearing someone else’s bikini. That was a little weird.
Sitting down to dinner with my mom and her fiancée? That’s strange enough. Add in the fact that I’ve seen his daughter naked, and I’d break several laws just to see her naked again?
Yeah, this pretty much takes the awkward cake.
I offered to cook, but my mom insisted that we go out for dinner. She said she didn’t want to cause me any stress. That was sweet, but honestly, I’d be able to work off some of this nervous energy if I had a giant knife in my hand.
Ok, that sounds bad. But at least I can keep busy in the kitchen. There’s something to focus on. Right now, the only thing I can focus on is that Brian is holding my mom’s hand. They’re talking about the future. They seem totally in love. They’re going on and on about the wedding ceremony, the venue, the flight.
And I’m just sitting here smiling like I’m happy for them.
Because I am. Despite my previous reservations, Lucy’s dad seems like a good guy. But he’s still Lucy’s dad. And I still want her.
“I’m so sad Lucy couldn’t be here tonight. I can’t wait to meet her.” My mom’s words are like a bucket of ice water on my thoughts.
“I know, honey,” Brian agrees. “But it’s a long flight and she just doesn’t have the time right now. She’s taking eighteen credits, so she’s up to her eyeballs with projects and tests and notes.”
“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” The words are out before I can censor them. That happens to me a lot. It takes my brain a minute to catch up with my stupid mouth.
Brian looks at me, his gaze assessing. “That’s right. You two know each other, don’t you?”
I nod, because that’s a lot easier than saying,Yeah, I fell ass over teakettle for her when I was about fourteen. And it’s definitely preferable to admitting,I wake up most mornings with my hand on my dick and visions of your daughter in my head.
“You went to the same summer camp, right?” Ma asks, and I feel compelled to respond.
“Yeah, for a couple of years. We even worked together that last summer.”
“So, you were friends, you and Lucy?”
“Yeah,” I lie, because I have no other choice. “It’ll be nice to see her at the wedding, catch up and all that.” It won’t actually. It’ll be torture. But it will also be good practice for all the future holidays where we have to see each other. Holy fucking hell. Someday, she’ll bring some dweeby douchebag to Christmas dinner and I’ll lose my damn mind.
But I can’t stress about that now. I’ve got to focus on getting through dinner. Miraculously, I keep my mom talking about orchids and wedding cakes for almost an hour. Their wedding is only a few weeks away, but mom’s got almost everything done. She’s practically vibrating with excitement for the big day, and Lucy’s dad looks thrilled, too. Good. He should be. My mom’s one of the best people I know, and he’s damn lucky she’s going to spend the rest of her life with him.
Before long, we’re sipping cappuccinos, and she and Brian are splitting a slice of dark chocolate cake.
“This is delicious, but yours is better, sweetie,” she says, nodding in my direction. “Brian, wait until you taste Caleb’s chocolate lava cake. It’s my favorite. Well, everything he makes is my favorite.”
I blush at the compliment. “Since we’ll be doing Thanksgiving island-style, I’ll make whatever you want for Christmas, Ma. How’s that?”
“Oh, Caleb. You’re too good to me. But I won’t turn it down. I hate cooking as much as you love it. And I can’t wait for you to show off your kitchen skills for Brian and Lucy. Our little family will have a feast this Christmas!” She squeezes my hand as I look at the smile on her face.
She’s happy. Truly happy. Lucy’s dad has put that smile on her face, and even if it kills me, I’m not going to be the one to rob her of it.
* * *
St.Lucia is beautiful. My mom chose a resort with sandy beaches and clear blue water—not that I’m going anywhere near it. Yes, I can swim, purely for safety reasons. My mom, of course, insisted on it. She doesn’t have the paralyzing fear of water that I do. That may have something to do with her being an adult when the accident occurred, whereas I was pretty young. But do I go anywhere near water voluntarily? Unless it’s a shower, fuck no.
My aversion to water permeates every part of my life. Therapists have told me this, and they’re right. Our back yard at The Chapel is practically begging for a pool, but Booker would never sign on to that. I’d legit have to move. People swim. I know this. People boat, too. People engage in all manner of water sports and live to tell the tale. Rationally, I know all of this. But the rushing sound of fear that pierces my skull when I see someone dive in a pool, or I walk too close to the ocean? It’s my body’s response kicking in, and I’m damn near powerless against it.
