Margaret was silent for a minute. “Is that why you did it? To keep him around?”
“No.” Elena wiped away the new tears running down her cheeks.
“It seems to me that you ascribe the worst intentions to your own actions.” Margaret spoke slowly, choosing her words with care. “You feel guilty for wanting your life to return to normal after a traumatic upheaval, as though no one else would feel that way. As though you don’t have the right to want things to be what they were. And you blame yourself for entering into a relationship with someone who wanted to be in a relationship with you, as though you don’t deserve it. You take his accusation that you used him too much to heart.”
Elena looked up. “But I did use him. Maybe not the whole time, but at the beginning. And I tried to use him last weekend. It wasn’t fair of me to go to him after I broke up with him.”
Thinking this over, Margaret nodded. “True. In which case, some of your guilt where he’s concerned is appropriate. Sometimes guilt is a good thing. It spurs us to make right the wrongs that we’ve committed. With Daniel, some of your guilt is that kind. But some of it is misplaced, just like the guilt about your dad. You’re grieving the loss of that relationship. Even though he didn’t die, it’s still a loss, and you need to allow yourself to move through that loss, to process and grieve without getting hung up on guilt.”
Sniffing, Elena reached for the box of tissues. Margaret moved them closer, sitting back and waiting for Elena to respond. Her voice thick with emotion, Elena let out her darkest confession. “Sometimes … sometimes I wish he had died. Then I could grieve him, and it would be normal, and people would understand. And I wouldn’t be stuck in this weird place where I have a dad who’s not my dad. He barely looks like him anymore. He’s gained weight and has frown lines and scars. He’s angry and depressed all the time. My dad was energetic and full of life.” She smiled through her tears, thinking about how her dad used to be. “He always wanted to talk to me about anything. He took us—my brother and me—to the minor league baseball games every summer, and took our family on awesome summer vacations starting when we were little. As we got older, they got longer, his business doing well enough that he’d work part time from wherever we went, and we’d stay for like a month.”
Shaking her head, she twisted the tissue in her hands. “He barely leaves the house now. When people hear what happened, they always say something like, ‘Oh, that’s awful, but at least he didn’t die,’ and I never know how to respond, because I don’t think that’s true. But they don’t get it. And how awful is it for a daughter to wish that her father—who wasn’t an abusive asshole or anything like that—had died? How do you tell someone that?”
Margaret’s gentle voice cut through Elena’s distress. “Why do you need to tell anyone that?”
She shrugged.
“People rarely know what to say in the face of someone else’s grief. And that’s okay. They’re trying to express their condolences the best they can. Even though it’s terrible, people always try to mitigate the awfulness. It makes them feel better.”
Elena nodded, and Margaret didn’t continue until Elena had looked up and met her eyes again.
“You’re not responsible for how those people feel. So they can say whatever they want, and you don’t have to say anything. Or, if you want to be polite, you can nod and say thank you. But you don’t need to reveal your deepest grief to them. No one else needs to know about that.
“But the way you feel is totally normal. You don’t need to feel guilty about that either. What you need to do is be kind to yourself. Give yourself time and space. Do what you need to do to take care of yourself.”
“Okay.” Elena wiped her nose and grabbed another tissue.
Margaret studied her. “I think, though, that you might feel better if you apologize to Daniel.”
“Yeah. I tried that Friday night, but that didn’t go well.”
“Well, it might be better if you apologized without expecting anything from him.”
“What if he doesn’t forgive me?” The question came out on a whisper, confession of her deepest feelings apparently the order of the day.
“That’s his choice. But you’ll feel better for having done what you can. And that’s what we’re focused on. You can’t control what he does or doesn’t do.”
Elena nodded, noticing that it was nearing eleven thirty, the end of her appointment, and stood. “Okay. I’ll figure out how to do that this week. I don’t know if he’ll take my calls.”
Margaret stood as well. “You can always write him a letter.”
“Yeah.” Elena flashed a brief smile. “I’ll keep that in mind. See you next week.”
“Good game, man. That was a nice catch you pulled off at the end.”
A hand fell on Daniel’s shoulder, and he turned to find Romero, one of the safeties, following him out of the locker room. “Thanks. I got lucky.”
Their third-string quarterback had been put in for the fourth quarter, a freshman. He had a good arm, but his aim could be a little wild, and Daniel had to jump and reach to catch the ball. He almost hadn’t, but his fingers tipped it, disrupting its flight enough that it dropped, and he caught it as he landed. He’d had to drop and roll when he hit the ground, and they’d done a running play to score the final touchdown that won them the game, so he hadn’t been able to add the score to his personal tally, but it felt good to close the season on a win anyway.
“You going to the party?”
Daniel slowed, hesitating. This was supposed to be an epic party, and normally he’d go, especially since this was his last game. He hadn’t been in much of a partying mood, though. Not since Elena had dropped by three weeks ago and he’d sent her away. His head was better, and he’d only missed one game, the trainer wanting him to have a full two weeks of rest before clearing him for practice again. But his heart still hadn’t recovered.
Coop wanted him to go. He’d left him alone for the most part, but before the game today had told him he needed to quit moping and come to the party. At least make an appearance and say goodbye to the team.
That was what decided it. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Cool. I’ll see you there.”
“Sounds good.” His eyes scanned the area outside of the locker room, looking for Coop. He’d come out a few minutes ago, hoping to chat up some girls he’d invited to the game and the party afterward earlier this week.
But Daniel wasn’t prepared for the girl he saw Coop talking to.
Elena stood next to Coop, her dark hair hanging down her back in a braid coming out from under a red Marycliff beanie. One of the ones they sold in the student center. When she laughed, something clenched and shifted inside him, a mix of pain, anger, and longing. He missed her laugh. He hadn’t seen her or talked to her since that night, even though he’d almost texted her or called her more times than he could count.
It was Coop that kept him from doing it. “Dude, she used you,” he’d said. “That’s fucked up. Delete her number.”
He hadn’t, though. Even though thinking about her made him angry and hurt, he couldn’t bring himself to delete her number. That felt too final. And even though he knew it was over, that he shouldn’t see her or talk to her anymore, the thought of being unable to if he wanted to was too much.
She hadn’t tried to contact him, either.
But now she was here. What was she doing here? She’d said she couldn’t handle watching someone she loved risking a head injury. Did that mean she didn’t care about him anymore? Maybe she hadn’t ever really cared. But then why break up with him?
He shook his head, he’d been asking himself the same relentless questions over and over and never came up with a satisfactory answer to any of them. None of it made sense to his logical brain. When the questions got to be too much, he’d hit the weight room or lose himself in math homework. There were always right answers there. If he got something wrong, he could ask for help to figure out where and how. Things w
ere simple, clear cut. Not a tangled mass of emotion and sensation, overwhelming and unpredictable.
She turned, then, and her eyes met his, the smile left over from talking to Coop fading as she looked at him. Hot anger poured over him, scalding down his spine. Why was she talking to Coop? And why was Coop flirting with her, making her smile? Coop had been the one to tell him to stay away from her. Was he fucking around with her behind his back?
The thought made his stomach churn, the bile rising in his throat. He turned, not able to handle the idea of the two of them, and started toward the parking lot. He had to get away.
“Daniel, wait!”
It was Elena. He walked faster. He didn’t want anything to do with her right now, the wound she’d left still too raw and open.
“Please. Can we please talk?”
He stopped, whirling on her. “No. We’ve done more than enough talking. You’re the one who ended things. Why do you keep coming back?”
She stopped, and he could see her throat work as she swallowed. He recognized that look on her face, the way she swallowed. It was what she did when she was fighting back her tears. That knowledge almost undid him, but he clenched his jaw.
“Goodbye, Elena.” Without waiting for a response from her, he pushed through the doors of the stadium and left, hoping she wouldn’t follow him.
He heard footsteps behind him, and resigned himself to a worse confrontation in the parking lot. At least it was cold. Hopefully that would keep her from drawing it out.
Turning, he was surprised to find Coop there. Surprised, but still angry, his hands clenched in fists at his side. “What the fuck, man? Did you tell me to stay away from her so you could take your chances or what?”
Coop’s eyes widened, his hands going up, palms out. “Whoa. What are you talking about?”
“I saw you.” He ground his teeth, taking a deep breath, trying to force himself to be calm. “I saw you talking to her, making her laugh, being your usual charming self. This, after you told me to delete her number, not talk to her anymore. What was that all about?”
Shaking his head, Coop took a step closer. “No, man. You got it wrong. I wasn’t flirting with her. We were just talking. She came to see you.”
With another deep breath, he examined Coop’s face, but couldn’t detect anything to indicate he was lying. Daniel relaxed a fraction, his shoulders lowering, his fists unclenching. “Yeah? What was she laughing about?”
Coop let his hands drop. “Nothing. I made some joke about the weather. It wasn’t even that funny. But she was nervous, so she laughed.”
“What was she nervous about?”
One of Coop’s dark brows rose. “I’d guess talking to you. It didn’t go so well last time, after all. And from what I saw, her fears were entirely justified.”
Daniel’s breath rushed out in a whoosh. “Can you blame me?”
“I didn’t say that.” Coop shook his head. “Just making an observation.”
Turning, Daniel headed for the car again, Coop falling in step beside him. “Did she tell you why she came?”
Coop eyed him out of the corner of his eye. “She said she wanted to apologize. She apologized to me for always kicking me out while you guys were together, and she said she needed to apologize to you, too.”
“Huh.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Coop opened his mouth, hesitated, but then spoke. “I think … I think maybe you should call her. Let her say what she has to say.”
Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Didn’t you tell me to delete her number? How’m I supposed to call her?”
Coop let out a chuckle. “Did you really delete her number, dude?” He waited for an answer, but Daniel said nothing. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Call her. Hear her out. If you still feel the same as you do now, then go ahead and follow my advice. Delete her number, and move on.”
They got to the car, and Coop pulled out his keys, hitting the button to open the trunk. Putting their bags in the trunk before getting into the car, Daniel let out a sigh.
“Drop me off at home, dude. I’m not in the mood for a party right now.”
“Nope.”
“What?” Daniel’s voice was loud in the small confines of the car. “Take me home, asshole.”
Coop ignored him while he backed out of the parking spot. “You gonna call her?”
Taking a breath to answer, Daniel paused. “I don’t know.”
“Then to the party we go.”
“I thought you wanted me to call her.”
Coop nodded. “I do. If you’re going to call her, I’ll take you home. Otherwise, you’re coming to the party.”
“Dude, I don’t wanna hook up with some chick.”
Coop gave him a sardonic look out of the corner of his eye. “I know you well enough to know that. But today was our last game, this is our last party as a team. You need to go, have a drink or two, hang out. Say goodbye.”
“You act like I won’t see any of these guys ever again.”
“Maybe you will. But it won’t be the same, and you know it. I’ll give you the keys, and you can leave whenever you want. I’ll figure out some other way to get home if you bail early. But you’re going.”
“Fine.”
“And you can call Elena after.”
Daniel shook his head, but didn’t answer otherwise. Coop had made him curious about what Elena might have to say, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a bad idea. No, Coop had been right with his initial judgment. He needed to stay away from her. Not call her and find out what she wanted. He didn’t need to be a math major to know that that was a formula for disaster.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Mamá, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just too soon. I can’t handle being there for Thanksgiving break.”
Elena heard her mom sniff, and felt a familiar twinge of guilt. But she was taking her therapist’s advice and doing what she needed to protect herself. And right now she was still trying to process everything that had happened since June. Her attempt to apologize to Daniel yesterday had been a spectacular failure. She was too raw and vulnerable to put herself in range of her father’s outbursts. She needed time and space to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t ever going to be the papi she’d grown up with.
“Can you at least come for Thanksgiving Day?” her mom asked. “Tomás will be here.”
Passing the phone from one hand to the other, Elena considered that. She could feasibly drive down on Thursday morning, have dinner with her family, and then drive back that night. Or stay with Hannah’s family. Hannah and Matt would be down there for Thanksgiving with her parents.
But she hadn’t even been able to handle an hour at Fall Break. Did she really think she could take several hours on top of a two and a half hour drive? And they were predicting snow this week.
Closing her eyes, she held firm. “I don’t think I can. Lo siento. It’s supposed to snow this week, and the roads will be bad.”
Her mom’s sigh caused another pang of guilt. “Okay, mija. That’s probably smart. I just don’t like the thought of you sitting alone on Thanksgiving.”
“Some friends that live too far from family are having a Thanksgiving dinner for those of us still here. I was planning on going to their place.” A few days after she’d announced that she wouldn’t be going home for Thanksgiving, Abby had called and invited her to their place. Elena had been surprised, since they were more acquaintances through their connections rather than friends themselves, but she’d accepted, telling herself she could always cancel if she didn’t feel up to it when the day drew closer. But it meant she could reassure her mother, at least, even if she changed her mind later.
“Okay. Good.” Her mom sounded relieved. “As long as you’re not alone.”
She smiled. “I won’t be. I promise.” Unless she wanted to be. “And I’ll have a lot of time to study for the LSAT, since Hannah and Matt are leaving on Tuesday. My time alone will be put to good use.”
“I know, mami. I was hoping that too. But I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
Her mom sniffed again. “I know. We’re going to apply for Social Security disability for him. So we need to close the business anyway.”
“Okay. That’s good. Thank you for understanding.” That was another thing her therapist had encouraged—talking to her mom about closing her dad’s business. Despite the lack of consulting, his clients were still referring web design work to him, which meant she was doing it. And she couldn’t handle the workload anymore. Not if she was finally going to take the LSAT, and she was determined not to put it off anymore. She only had a few more weeks to study. Hannah had been helping her. Not spending time with Daniel had helped free up time as well. Though the memory of the anger on his face and the way he’d practically run away from her after his game yesterday still stung. She couldn’t blame him, though.
After hanging up with her mom, she got out her test prep materials and settled in for an afternoon of studying. They had classes on Monday and Tuesday, but she’d finished the two papers due this week last night, needing something to distract her after Daniel’s rejection. She had other reading to do, but that could wait until tonight. She’d decided to apply to Stanford as well as some other schools. The thought of going far away had a much greater appeal than it used to, and her therapist’s repeated assurances that she wasn’t abandoning her family by pursuing her dreams made it easier to consider.
The guilt still reared its ugly head. She could deal with it better than she used to, either by ignoring it or reminding herself that taking care of her own needs made her better equipped to care for others.
PMU Boxset 2 Page 34