The six hour drive to Portland gave Daniel lots of time to think. He skipped his afternoon class on Tuesday, wanting to get on the road before sunset. With his phone connected to the car’s bluetooth, he had his favorite playlists going the whole time. And while he sang along to some of the songs at the top of his voice, which he only did when he was alone in the car, most of the time he thought about Elena.
And how great he’d thought everything had been.
And how it had all gone to shit in the blink of an eye. Or a kick in the head, as the case may be.
He’d been thinking about her almost nonstop since he saw her after the game. Coop’s attempts to distract him at the party didn’t work, and he’d left early, only able to fake having a good time for so long before he couldn’t anymore. And his teammates didn’t deserve to have him bringing them down with his grumpy bastard routine.
Coop had hassled him about calling Elena the next day, but he’d told him to drop it, and, for once, Coop had listened and let it go. But maybe his roommate had a point. Maybe if he let Elena apologize it would give him the closure he needed to move on. The problem was, he didn’t know if he wanted to move on.
So he found himself stuck in this state of limbo, wanting two contradictory things. Part of him wished he could go back in time, back to when things with Elena were good. And the other part of him wished he could fast forward to a point where he didn’t still want her and miss her while simultaneously feeling betrayed by her.
But that would mean closing the book on her, on them, and moving on. And he couldn’t bring himself to do that yet.
He’d thought leaving, going home, would do him good. But once he found himself there, everything irritated him. His brother, Marcus, was too messy, the TV too loud, his mom too curious about everything. And then he and his brother had to go to their dad’s on Wednesday for Thanksgiving a day early with him and his latest girlfriend. They seemed to be getting younger. This one didn’t look like she was much older than him.
When they got to his house, Daniel knocked, like he usually did. Marcus looked over at him and shook his head. “I don’t know why you always knock. Dad’s cool with us just coming in.”
Before Daniel could say anything, the door opened, and their dad stood there gesturing them inside. He wore jeans and an untucked button-down shirt with vertical blue stripes. He looked nice, put together, from his closely trimmed hair and goatee with the slightest amount of gray at the temples and sprinkled in his beard, to his tailored shirt and designer jeans, all the way down to his brown leather slip-on shoes.
As though to prove Marcus’s point, their dad pulled them each in for a quick hug and said, “What’s with the knocking? You know you can just come in. This is your home.”
Daniel grunted and looked away, managing to stop himself from denying that assertion. Their dad’s house was always that—their dad’s house. They’d stayed with him on alternate weekends and holidays. Now that they were both over eighteen, they were forced into this charade of duplicate holidays. Their parents alternated who got them on the actual day, and who got a different day. Since Mom had them for Thanksgiving Day, they’d be at their dad’s on Christmas Day, celebrating with Mom on Christmas Eve.
It didn’t matter. Mom’s house was home, and the celebrations with her were the real holidays as far as Daniel was concerned.
Marcus gave him a look, as though waiting for Daniel to contradict their father. Marcus didn’t have the same hang-ups, having been less aware of how their dad had used them and the custody agreement as a way to punish their mom. If she asked for money for anything for them, he’d try to get the custody agreement changed until she either relented or agreed to whatever he wanted to avoid the hassle of going through the court systems and the costs of an attorney.
It pissed Daniel off, because their dad could always afford the costs of the special football camp or whatever. He just took any and all opportunities to make life more difficult for Mom, mad at her for being unhappy with him and asking for the divorce.
With a manipulative jackass like his father, Daniel couldn’t blame her. All their interactions left him feeling cold, wondering what angle his father was working with his offers of gifts and expensive trips. Daniel let him pay for school and his expenses and buy him things like his car. In exchange he had to attend these farcical “family” holiday celebrations with his dad and whatever girlfriend he was currently seeing. One more year, and he’d be done. He’d get a job and pay his own way, see his dad on his own terms. He couldn’t wait.
Speaking of girlfriends, a tiny, blonde white girl peeked around the doorway into the kitchen. She looked like she could be Hannah’s older sister. That oblique reminder of Elena was enough to make him dislike her immediately.
His dad motioned her forward. “Don’t be shy. Let me introduce you to my boys.” She took a few tentative steps until she was close enough for their dad to wrap his arm around her waist. “Boys, this is Jennifer. Jennifer, these are my boys, Daniel and Marcus.”
She gave them a shy smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you both.”
After a quick glance at Daniel, Marcus held out his hand, gracing her with one of his charming smiles. “Pleasure to meet you, too. It’s nice of you to join us for Thanksgiving a day early.”
She giggled, simpering at Marcus’s attention. “I see you’ve got your dad’s abilities as a flirt.”
Marcus chuckled, and Daniel rolled his eyes, looking away. He made the mistake of clashing eyes with his dad, who looked irritated. Dropping his gaze, he felt a little guilty. It wasn’t Jennifer’s fault that his dad was a manipulative jackass or that Daniel was a moody bastard. He decided that he’d keep his head down and engage as little as possible while they had to be here and try to get them out as fast as he could.
Marcus wasn’t on board with that plan, chatting and regaling everyone with stories of his freshman year at the University of Oregon, talking about his off-season training, and making new friends in the dorm. Marcus was attending on a track and field scholarship, having won the state two hundred meter dash his senior year, and taking fourth place in the one hundred ten meter hurdles. He’d start training hard once the spring semester started.
Daniel ate the traditional Thanksgiving meal—turkey, mashed potatoes, dressing, the works, and didn’t add anything to the conversation, letting Marcus, his dad, and Jennifer talk as much as they wanted. He kept his eyes on his plate, and as he finished the last of his food, he hoped maybe they could make some excuse to leave soon, glad that it looked like he might escape without having to either make conversation or come across as unbearably rude.
His relief was short lived, though, because Jennifer turned to him and said, “Your dad tells me you play football.”
Daniel looked up, meeting Jennifer’s brown eyes, wondering what this young woman who couldn’t be more than twenty-five was doing with his dad. Was she looking for a sugar daddy? Or did she have a fetish for black men?
“Daniel.” His dad’s voice, low and tight, interrupted his musings. “Jennifer asked you a question.”
Letting out a sigh, Daniel sat back in his chair and wiped his mouth with his napkin, shaking his head in a quick negative. “Not anymore. The season ended last weekend. I’m student teaching next fall, so I won’t have time to play.”
Jennifer made a sympathetic face. “Oh, that’s too bad. Your dad told me how much you played growing up. He seemed to think you might try to play professionally. He mentioned one of your former teammates got drafted last year?”
Daniel let his eyes drift to his father, irritated that the man felt the need to tell everyone that. It had gotten worse since Watkins got drafted last year, especially since he’d overheard Coop saying something about registering for the Regional Combines if he didn’t get scouted. Daniel shook his head. “Yeah, Watkins did well in the Combines and got drafted. There were some scouts at a few of our games, but none of them have contacted me. And I’ve always plann
ed on getting my degree and becoming a math teacher. Probably coach, too.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Jennifer gave him a bright smile. “Teachers are so important.”
Something about the way she was trying so hard irked him. And before he could stop himself, he jerked his chin up in her direction. “What about you?”
Her brows crinkled. “What do you mean?”
He gestured between him and Marcus with his hand. “Well, you’ve heard all about what Marcus and I want to be when we grow up. What about you?”
Her cheeks turned pink, and Daniel felt like an ass even before his dad stood and said, “That’s enough, Daniel.”
Daniel stood, too. He looked at Jennifer and tried to give her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I probably won’t see you again, so it was nice meeting you. Good luck with him. If he offers to buy you expensive gifts, let him. Might as well get what you can while you can, right?”
“Daniel!” His dad’s face was thunderous, but he was beyond caring.
“Come on, Marcus. Let’s go.”
Marcus looked pissed, but he stood and followed him back to the living room where they got their coats.
Their dad came after them. “Don’t you leave. You owe me an apology.”
Daniel met his dad’s eyes, trying to keep his expression as bland as possible. “The only thing I owe you is time on the holidays. You get that in exchange for paying for college and my car. We came. We ate. And now we’re leaving.”
He steered Marcus out the door, their dad spluttering in their wake. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t keep up the pretense anymore.
Marcus waited until they were back in the car before he spoke. “Why are you being such an asshole?”
Daniel didn’t answer. He hadn’t told Marcus about anything that happened this semester. And he didn’t want to spill his guts now.
When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to answer, Marcus crossed his arms and faced the window, muttering something about Daniel needing to get laid.
He holed himself up in his room the rest of that night. He knew Marcus would tell Mom what happened at their dad’s. He also knew his mom would corner him and make him talk before he went back to school.
She waited until the next evening, after they’d eaten Thanksgiving dinner (for the second time for him and Marcus) and cleaned up the kitchen. He sat watching football in the living room. Marcus was somewhere else. He didn’t know where, nor did he much care.
His mom came in, two plates in hand, each with a slice of chess pie. His stomach twisted when he saw it, the memory of Elena making him the same pie rising unbidden. What had once been his favorite pie now had too many other associations. But he accepted the plate, not wanting to hurt his mom’s feelings. The sweet custard filling tasted like ashes and sawdust.
She took a bite, watching him as he set the fork back down on the plate after his first bite. “What’s wrong, baby? You still too full for pie? Normally you want it as soon as we’re done eating dinner.”
Setting the pie on the coffee table, he shook his head. “I just don’t feel like pie right now.”
His mom fixed him with a glare. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She pointed at him with her fork. “You haven’t been yourself since you got home. Marcus told me what happened yesterday. Now, I know your dad’s not your favorite person, and you get annoyed at his constant lineup of girlfriends, but I know I raised you better than to treat people like that. What’s going on with you?”
He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “You remember that girl I met on my trip at the beginning of the summer? Elena?”
She nodded, eating her pie, staying quiet so he could spill his guts. And he did. He told her everything, how he started spending time with Elena at the beginning of the semester, her dad’s accident, how he wanted to be there for her, make everything alright again.
His mom listened, the way she always had, making encouraging sounds when appropriate, but not saying anything, waiting until he’d finished.
She cocked her head to one side, scraping the last of the custard off her plate with the edge of her fork. “Now, one thing I don’t understand is why that girl and all her problems makes you not want my pie.” Her perceptive brown eyes met his. “Can you tell me that?”
He let out a low chuckle, not expecting that question first, but not entirely surprised. “Elena bakes when she’s stressed. Pies. She offered to make me one, whatever kind I wanted. I asked for a chess pie. Mom, her pie’s almost as good as yours. And now when I see it I think of her.”
Narrowing her eyes, she stared at him. “Baby, you better get over that, because that’s my favorite pie. And yours too. So you’re going to be eating chess pie at Thanksgiving and Christmas for as long as I’m around. Don’t let some girl ruin our family traditions.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She gave a satisfied nod. “Now, for the rest.” She paused, contemplating her next words. “I can tell you have strong feelings for her, so I hope I won’t make you mad with what I’m going to say.” She met his eyes. “That girl has lots of problems, and there’s nothing you could’ve done to make them better. She has to deal with them on her own.”
He opened his mouth to object, but she wouldn’t let him. “I know, baby. I know. You’re a good boy, and you care about her. It’s natural for you to want to make things better if you can. But that’s my point—there’s nothing you could’ve done. She needs to work through what happened over the summer on her own. It was traumatic. And she used you as a way to try to deal with her trauma, taking advantage of your feelings and good nature.”
She shook her head, her lips pursed. “From the way you’re acting, I think you still have strong feelings for her. Maybe you should talk to her, let her apologize. Then you can decide what you want to do. If you still care about her, maybe you can give her another chance. Assuming that’s what she wants too, of course. But if she’s sought you out twice after breaking up with you …” She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like someone who’s over you either.”
Taking a deep breath, Daniel considered his mom’s words. But he still didn’t think he was ready to hear Elena’s apology, especially if she did want to try again. He didn’t know what he wanted. Unable to agree or disagree, he just nodded. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll think about it.”
His mom looked him over, examining his face. “Good. Now, eat your pie.” She picked up the plate off the coffee table and handed it to him, patting his cheek with one hand. “You’re a good boy, Daniel. Trust yourself. You’ll figure out the right thing to do.”
He nodded and took a bite of his pie, letting the creamy sweetness coat his tongue, focusing on this pie, here, and not letting memories cloud the present. He hoped his mom was right. Because right now he had no idea what to do.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Elena woke up the day after Thanksgiving to a blanket of white covering everything. Several inches of snow had fallen overnight, making everything look clean and fresh. Flakes continued to fall softly, the type of snowfall that looked fake and perfect, like something out of those cheesy Christmas movies where the main characters kiss and soft, fluffy flakes magically start falling from the sky.
Since she didn’t need to go anywhere, she made oatmeal and hot chocolate for breakfast, sitting on the couch with the blinds open to watch the snow fall. She studied for the LSAT until she got up the motivation to shovel the driveway. While she had no plans to go anywhere, keeping up with the snow would make it easier when she did need to leave.
While she pulled on her coat and boots, searching in the closet for a pair of waterproof gloves, her phone chimed. It was a text from Abby. Lance can come shovel your driveway.
Elena smiled, appreciating the gesture. She and Abby weren’t close, only hanging out when Elena tagged along with Hannah and Matt. But she’d spent yesterday at their apartment for Thanksgiving, along with Lance’s little sister Gabby. It had bee
n a surprisingly enjoyable day, and she was glad she’d decided to go after all. She’d brought an apple pie for dessert and helped Abby make dinner. Gabby had offered to help, but the kitchen at Lance and Abby’s apartment was too small for more than two people. On top of that, Gabby’s offer had seemed more obligatory than genuine.
Abby had waved her off with a smile. “We’ve got it. Just relax. Hang out with your brother. He’s been looking forward to having you over.”
Gabby nodded and slipped back into the living room, but Elena didn’t hear much in the way of conversation, just the sound of the football game on the TV.
Elena raised an eyebrow at Abby, who shook her head, letting out a sigh. “Boy problems.”
“Oh?” Elena was surprised. “Isn’t she just a freshman?”
Abby laughed. “Like that matters? You remember what it’s like to be nineteen—all that angst and few productive outlets. Plus, she’s a musician, so she’s got a dramatic streak a mile wide.”
“Unrequited love?”
Shaking her head, Abby pursed her lips. “No. I’m pretty sure that’s not it. She’s been remarkably close-mouthed about what’s going on, which if you know Gabby is saying a lot.” She gave Elena a look. “That girl talks non-stop.” Abby’s brows crinkled together. “I’m a little worried about her, actually, and even though we get along, I don’t know her well enough to know how much I should pry.”
Elena had simply made a sound of agreement, not having any advice to give. Her own relationships were all in shambles. She had no business prying into anyone else’s business. The only reason her relationship with Hannah, and by extension Matt, wasn’t a complete mess like everything else, is because Hannah had ignored Elena’s attempts to distance herself, being there in the way only a lifelong best friend can know how to do. But she needed to make sure that she stopped treating Hannah like crap, especially with how Hannah had picked her up and helped her put herself back together after Fall Break.
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