by Mia Clark
"Who is she?" he says. "Do I know her?"
Shit. "Uh, maybe?"
"It's not one of Ashley's friends, is it?" my dad asks.
How the fuck do I even have this conversation? Someone help me out here, please, because I have no clue what I'm doing right now.
"Kind of?" I say. Ashley's probably friends with herself, right? Sure, let's go with that. "It's complicated."
"How long have you been dating her?" my dad asks. "Does she have a name? Give me something to work with here, Ethan."
He laughs, and I guess it is kind of funny. I'm being vague as fuck, but there's a damn good reason for it. I guess I could just come out and tell him right now, but I'm still not sure how to do it. You can say it's as easy as just saying it, but for me it's not that easy. I'm fine with doing everything else, but this shit is hard for me.
"Just uh... alright, well, you're going to think this is stupid, but we had a kind of friends with benefits situation at first, right?" Yeah, this is true. Mostly true. Stepbrother with benefits, but whatever. "Yeah, so, it kind of escalated and now we're dating. It's only been, uh... not that long. A little more than a week, but I really like this girl."
My dad laughs. "Fair enough. I'm glad. Really, I know what you're probably thinking, but I'm glad you're finally taking a step in the right direction. I know I don't say this much, but I really am proud of you, Ethan. You've grown a lot. We've had some tough times, but..."
Yeah, that's it. My dad and I don't really talk, and when we do talk, it's a lot of trailing off and sort of implying shit, but we don't ever say it. We don't know how to say it.
We've had some tough times, but honestly we're just two really shitty people who fuck things up constantly and who the fuck knows how we found people who stay with us? I don't even know if Ashley's going to stay with me, but I don't want to fuck it up this time. My dad's found a good thing with Ashley's mom, but he's pissed off more than his fair share of people, too. Not in dating, but in other aspects of his life.
Yeah, well...
"Do you remember the first time we came here?" I ask him.
He gives me a weird look, then nods. "Yeah, I do."
"That was bad, huh?"
He doesn't say anything, just waits and listens.
"I know we don't talk about this kind of thing much, but I still know it was bad. I guess we got over it a little, but I was so angry with you, and I think you were angry with me. I—"
"Ethan, we don't have to talk about this," he says, kind of curt, not mean or rude, but I can tell he doesn't want to talk about it.
"Yeah, I know we don't, but I want to," I tell him.
"I'm not exactly proud of what happened back then," he says. "When your mother passed away, I just... I had a hard time coping. I loved her so much, Ethan. I love your stepmom, too, but it's different. I don't want you to think that I'm replacing your mother with Ashley's mom or anything like that."
"Listen," I say. "Stop. I don't think that. I just want to talk about this, alright?"
I don't know why. It's weird, because I don't think I actually want to talk about this. It's a hard conversation to have, but it's kind of like I'm procrastinating and if I have this hard conversation, it'll be easier than having the even harder conversation about me dating Ashley. I know I still have to have that one, but I feel like if I can just have this one first, then the other will be easier, and maybe it'll work out better?
I'm pretty sure this is the most fucked up idea I've ever had, but I'm not exactly known for my good ideas.
"I really like Ashley's mom. I like Ashley a lot, too. I'm not good at this emotional heartfelt conversation shit or whatever. I just want to tell you that I was really hurt back then, and I get why you were hurt, too, but I feel like maybe it would have been easier if we could have just been hurt together instead of apart."
"I know," my dad says, which surprises me. "I've thought about it a lot. I wasn't really there for you. I tried sometimes, and I tried to pull myself out of it, but every single time I looked at you, I remembered her. I still do, you know? Sometimes I close my eyes, and when I open them I see you and her again, almost as if no time has passed at all and we're all back together. It's like the last ten years of my life were a dream, and I've finally woken up. I can see her pushing you on the swings, and you laughing and yelling for her to push you faster and higher. I remember her telling you not to jump off the swing, but you always did. She'd rush over and yell you, but you'd both be laughing."
Fuck, man... this is rough. I think this is the longest my dad and I have talked about something like this in, uh... forever?
"I know it's stupid, but I always felt kind of left out," my dad says. "I felt like it was you and your mother, and me and your mother, but I was never a part of your life and even when the three of us were together, it was almost like we were only all together because of her. When she died, I didn't know what to do, Ethan. I wasn't sure how to be there for you, because I thought you needed her more than you needed me, and I needed her, too. I..."
"I need you," I tell him. It hurts to say it, but it's true. And fuck you, I'm not even fucking crying here. I've got something in my eye. Shut the fuck up. It's the woods and I've got allergies or whatever. Just fuck off.
My dad looks at me and he smiles and he's got allergies or something, too. Damn fucking woods. Should have brought some allergy medication. Holy fuck, this pollen is bad.
"I was really pissed off when you didn't pack the swirly straws in my lunch," I tell him, trying not to laugh. It sounds so dumb, but I really was so fucking pissed.
"I remember you threw them away," he says. "You know, I thought about putting one in your lunchbox that day? I didn't know if you'd like it, though. That was always a thing you and your mother shared. I guess that sounds dumb, but it used to make me smile when you and her played with those straws. I liked watching you blow bubbles with them in your milk and she'd get a straw and blow bubbles, too. You two always used to have so much fun together."
I don't know what the fuck to say to that. I wish he'd put a straw in with my lunch, but I'm not going to blame him for not doing it. I blamed him then, and I was seriously super fucking pissed, but it's like... uh, that was a long time ago. I don't even use straws anymore.
"I still have them," my dad says. "The straws. That's stupid, isn't it? I pulled them out of the trash when you weren't looking. I washed them and kept them hidden in my room. Sometimes I'd pour a glass of milk and bring it to my bedroom and lock the door, then use the straws, just to try and remember. It was never really the same, but it made me smile for a little while."
"We can blow bubbles in milk if you want," I say. Wow. Seriously? How fucking dumb can I get? I don't even know.
My dad laughs. "I think maybe we're both a little too old for that now, but I'd be willing to give it a try."
I smile and try to think, because I want to say something, but I'm not entirely sure how to say it.
"It was never between you and her," I say. "I never thought of you as separate from Mom. Yeah, you usually stood off to the side or whatever, but you were still there. I guess I always thought it was you keeping watch over us and protecting us. That's why I felt safe jumping off of the swings, Dad. It's not like I was going to die or anything, but when I jumped, I saw you down there, waiting, and I knew that when I hit the ground, you'd still be there. You were always there for us, and then..."
I don't know. I thought he was always there for me. This is something I've never talked about with anyone before.
I used to think my dad was there for me and Mom, but then when she died he wasn't there for me. He just kind of left, hid away, stopped paying attention to me, stopped... caring, I guess? I know he didn't, or at least I know that now, but that's how I felt then.
So then what if all the times I thought he was there for the both of us, he was only actually there for Mom? That's what my little kid self thought. What if he was never there for me to begin with? He wasn't there for me after
she died, so...
"Ethan," my dad says, choking up. We're not walking anymore. We're standing by a tree, just kind of chilling, I guess. If you can even call it that. "That's... that's not what I meant to do. Is that what you thought? That..."
We can't keep doing this. We've just got to fucking own it, commit to it, and finally say the fucking words we want to say.
"Yeah," I tell him, and it's so fucking hard it hurts and I just want to fall on the ground and curl up in a ball, but I say it anyways. "When you stopped being there for me after mom died, I thought you were never there for me to begin with. I thought you were only there because of her, and now that she was gone, you didn't care anymore."
He just kind of stares at me. Huge fucking allergy issue right now, seriously. We're not two grown men crying in the middle of the fucking woods. How fucked up would that be?
I guess we've always been kind of fucked up, though.
"I care," my dad says. "I'm so sorry. I... I don't even know what to say. I'm sorry, Ethan."
He hugs me and I hug him back. It's rough and rugged, like we're two burly lumberjacks, except I'm pretty sure lumberjacks don't bawl onto each other's shoulders. We're in the woods, though. Just the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere, and it's not like anyone can see us. It's getting kind of dark out, too. How long have we been out here?
Fuck if I know.
Everything's going pretty good, I guess. I think. I don't know. Can I tell him about Ashley now? Nah, it's not even a good time anymore. Why the fuck did I bring this shit up? How am I supposed to tell him by the time we get back if I just fucking dropped this bomb on him? He did it, too, though. It's not just my bomb to drop, it's ours, together.
I guess we should have done this a long time ago, but I'm not sure how we could have.
We separate, but we keep looking at each other. I feel like my dad's a different person now, and he's looking at me like I'm different, too.
We're not that different, though. I mean, shit, I'm still a huge fuck up. I've still done a lot of stupid shit, slept with a ton of girls, broke their hearts. I didn't exactly mean to, and most of the time I was trying to help them and show them a good time because they deserved it, even if just for a little while. I wasn't good for them, and I knew that, but they didn't. How the fuck do you tell someone that?
I guess that's what my dad was doing for me, too, though. This is really hard to deal with. It's like some giant epiphany or something. We both did things in our own ways, but we were trying to do what we thought was right.
Can I forgive him? I don't know, can he forgive me? Is that what this is even about?
We keep walking quietly, and I know now that neither of us has any clue where we're going. It just seems like the right thing to do. Walk it off, you know?
My football coach used to say that we were either hurt, or in pain. If you're hurt, you need to go see a doctor. If you're just in pain, you need to suck it up, walk it off, and get back to practice.
I used to be hurt. I'm just in pain right now. I'll get over it. Whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right? Yeah yeah, I think that's kind of a bunch of bullshit, but whatever. Maybe it's true.
I think what just happened between me and my dad will help us, though. Maybe. Fuck if I know. I'm not a psychologist. Maybe Ashley will know, but I'm pretty sure she's not a psychologist, either. Shit, this is difficult.
When the fuck did it get so dark out? It's not night yet, but it's almost dusk, and here we are, just walking in the fucking woods. Shit, it's been hours.
"I'm not sure where we are," my dad says.
I shrug. "Me either."
"We should turn back," he says. "We should be able to retrace our steps before it gets too dark. We don't want to be stuck in the woods like this at night."
Yeah, and that's a real good idea, except there's one small problem.
I guess it's not a small problem, but a potentially pretty big one.
We turn around to head back, and a few seconds after we hear a howl. Fuck. It sounds close, too. Like... not even joking here, I wouldn't be surprised if you said the howl was right behind us.
My dad freezes, and so do I. Yeah...
The campground owner told us there were reports of wolves in the woods, but he said it was just a rumor and nothing was confirmed. Oh yeah? Well, guess what? I think we just confirmed it.
"Shit," my dad says.
"Yup..."
*** Ashley
"I saw Ashley and Ethan in the woods," Caleb blurts out. "Uh... and her shorts were off and Ethan's hand was in her underwear, and they were kissing, and... oh my God I can't believe I just said that in front of your mom I'm so sorry."
My mom furrows her brow, listening intently to Caleb. When he stops talking, she turns to me, brow still furrowed. She purses her lips and shakes her head at me.
"Ashley?" she says, sighing. "Really, now? In the middle of the woods?"
I don't think I should tell her what Ethan and I were doing in the middle of the woods just a little earlier after Caleb saw us. But, really, it's the middle of the woods! It's called that for a reason, isn't it? I feel like people should be able to expect some small amount of privacy when they're in the middle of the woods compared to the middle of somewhere else. If Ethan and I were in the middle of a shopping mall, for example, well... I could understand why that might be a cause for concern.
What if it's in a photo booth in the middle of the shopping mall, though? That sounds like something Ethan would do, and I feel like I need to prepare for a situation like that. It's better to be prepared than have these sorts of things sprung on you without warning, isn't it?
I'm pretty sure my mom won't be agreeing with me any time soon. She's still looking at me with a slightly concerned look on her face. Yes, well... yes.
I turn to Caleb and frown at him. "I thought you said you weren't going to say anything?" I tell him.
"Oh," he says. "Um... I didn't mean to?"
"You sort of just did, though! I'm not very happy with you, Caleb."
"Sorry..." he says, looking away, shy. Then he realizes what he's apologizing for and he turns back, confused. "Wait, this isn't my fault! You're the one having... uh... you were... with Ethan... it wasn't sex, I guess, but..." Then, fast, he blurts out. "Ashley, that's your brother! That's kind of gross, don't you think?"
"Ohhh," my mom says, as if she's finally understanding the issue here, or Caleb's issue at least. Sometimes my mom is weird. "I see what the problem is. Caleb, Ethan is actually Ashley's stepbrother."
"Er...?" Caleb glances quickly between me and my mom.
"We're not related, you dweeb!" I tell him.
I'm still angry, too. It's just my mom, and it's not a huge deal that he told her, but I don't exactly appreciate being caught out like that, either. I would have preferred my mother not know about what Ethan and I were attempting to do in private, you know?
"Oh... uh... sorry?" Caleb says. After a second's pause, he adds, "Really, he's your stepbrother? How long?"
"Um, a few years now? Almost four, I guess. We've only been dating for a little over a week, though," I add. "It's kind of a secret, but I guess you know now."
"He's the guy you were talking about at the store? You're boyfriend?"
"Yup, that's him. So you can see why you need to keep it a secret, except I don't even know if I can trust you with secrets anymore, Caleb."
"No! You can!" He sounds so adamant about it. "I... honestly, I was confused and surprised and I didn't mean to say that in front of your mom. I won't tell anyone else. It's just, you really shouldn't do that in the woods. You were being kind of loud and someone else might have heard you. I'm not sure how you would have explained that to my dad. We're supposed to be a family friendly campground."
"Oh, I'm sure Ethan and Ashley were being very friendly," my mom says, grinning.
"Mom! Seriously?" I stare at her, pointed. She just looks at me and shrugs. "Wow."
"Lots of people j
ust use the showers," Caleb adds. "For alone time, I mean. You just can't make it obvious what's going on in there, but there's no real rules against two people showering at the same time. Plenty of people just take showers in their bathing suits with someone else to save money. My dad doesn't mind as long as no one complains."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure they've already used the showers," my mom says, shaking her head.
She's really having fun with this, isn't she? I thought she was supposed to be my friend and, well, my mother, but here she is, just teasing me without remorse. Ugh.
"Mom," I say, staring at her. "Really?"
"Go ahead and tell me you weren't in the shower with Ethan this morning, dear. If you can say it with a straight face and promise you aren't lying, I'll believe you."
I huff and turn away from her, crossing my arms over my chest. My fishing pole lays discarded on the ground and I kind of glare at it, but there's not even a worm on the hook so what do I care?
Caleb just stares at us, dumbfounded. I'm not sure he's ever met a family like ours, and, um... I don't think I've met a family like ours, either? This is kind of bad, isn't it? I never meant for this to happen, it just sort of happened, and I wish I could blame Ethan, but the shower part was entirely my plan.
"Do you want to fish with us, Caleb?" my mom asks him. "I think we're going to be here for awhile. We're waiting for the boys to come back, but you're welcome to join us if you'd like?"
"Is that alright?" he asks us. "You're not mad at me?"
"I'm not mad, honey," she says to him, smiling. "Are you, Ashley?"
"I'm kind of mad," I say, mumbling.
"Are you mad at Caleb or are you mad that you and Ethan got caught?"
Why does she have to ask questions like that? I wish I could lie to my mother, but I just can't. I don't even know if I can really lie to anyone. It's hard. Maybe Ethan can, but I have a difficult time trying to do it, especially when I'm dealing with my mom.
"I'm sorry," I say. "You shouldn't have said that in front of my mom, Caleb, but it was kind of my fault, too."