by S. M. Koz
“You’re our daughter.”
Their words make my heart melt. I still consider them Brad’s parents, not mine, but I’ve definitely grown very close to them in the three and a half months I’ve been here. At this point, it’s going to be hard to leave them. Even if Brad and I don’t stay in touch, I hope they’ll call or write every now and again. I don’t know if they realize it, but they’re completely turning my life around.
“Thanks,” I reply, feeling my cheeks heating up.
“Here he comes,” Gigi says, nodding toward the door.
Brad rejoins us, takes a bite of cupcake, and looks out the window.
“Well?” Gigi asks.
“Duke, Stanford, Virginia, and ECU want me,” he says with a massive grin. “Full scholarship to any of them.”
“Where are you going?”
He takes a deep breath and looks at his mom, then me, then his dad before saying, “Duke.”
Gil nods and smiles an actual smile at his son. I haven’t seen one of those in months and I can’t imagine how happy it makes Brad. I told him his dad still loved him. It just took Gil a while to come to terms with the baby situation.
“Did you accept?” Gil asks.
“Not yet. I told him I’d call him after our trip.”
“Why the wait?”
“I didn’t want to seem overly eager.”
“You’re not thinking about changing your mind?”
“No. It’s Duke.”
“Gil, relax,” Gigi says, rubbing his shoulder. “This is fantastic. We’re so proud of you, aren’t we Gil?”
He nods and returns to his cake.
I feel Brad stiffen at my side. I share the sentiment. What the heck? Brad won the state championship for his team, got his pick of top schools, and chose the one his dad wanted. Why isn’t he ecstatic right now?
“Congratulations. That’s really awesome,” I say to try and ease some of his disappointment.
“Thanks. May we be excused?” he asks.
“Sure. Your dad and I have an appointment at the spa later, so you kids are on your own until dinner. Meet us in the dining room at seven,” she says.
“Are you ready?” he asks me. I’ve still got a lot of food left, but I understand why he wants to get out of here, so I nod.
As soon as we exit the dining room, he spins around to face me. “He’s such an ass!” he yells. “What the hell, right?”
I nod.
“I thought everything would change once he realized my life wasn’t over. I’m doing exactly what we planned, yet he’s still treating me like I’m a complete failure.”
“I don’t get it,” I reply honestly. “He acts totally different when you’re there and when you’re not. It’s strange.”
“If this didn’t fix things, then nothing will.”
“Don’t say that. Maybe it’s just going to take him a long time to come around. Maybe once the baby is born …”
“Don’t give me that shit. He’s never going to come around.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, but I’m beginning to wonder myself. Gil’s such a great guy and treats me wonderfully, but seems to hold Brad to a different standard.
He sighs and runs his hand down his face. “Let’s just forget him. We’re on vacation and we’re alone for the rest of the afternoon. What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
“Find a private place and play checkers, but I don’t think that’s possible unless we can keep my parents locked out of our rooms.”
“They’d probably be suspicious then.”
“Probably.”
“So, maybe ice skating instead?”
“I can’t ice skate,” he replies.
“Me neither, which makes it a perfect excuse to hold hands.”
“I like the way you think.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon taking advantage of all the on-ship amenities where we have an excuse to hold hands or otherwise touch each other. We didn’t see his parents again, except from a distance during the muster drill where the cruise staff told us what to do if the ship sank. They were located three rows in front of us at the other end of the line. I suggested standing by them, but Brad rejected the idea. I think he’s had it with his dad.
Thirty minutes before dinner, we go to our rooms to change. Last week, Gigi gave me four sundresses and told me they like to dress up a little for dinner while on vacation. She says it makes it seem like more of a special occasion.
I enter my room and he enters his. The room steward must have been in here because the beds are already turned down and the curtain to the balcony is drawn shut, making the room seem much smaller than it did earlier.
I open up the closet and select the dress in front. It’s pale blue with white stripes and a white belt. I quickly change clothes, but struggle with the zipper in the back. As I’m wishing Gigi were here to help me, there’s a knock on the connecting door.
I open it a crack and see Brad’s big, blue eyes peering over at me. “How’s it going?” he asks.
“Okay, but I’m having a zipper situation.”
“Can I help you?”
“Is Gil over there?”
“No. They like to get cocktails before dinner.”
I open the door wider and let him in. Once he sees me in the new dress, his whole body transforms from playful to inviting. “What exactly is the problem?” he asks, his eyes dark and serious.
“I can’t reach it.”
“Turn around.”
I do and his fingers graze my bare lower back. Then, they slip inside the dress and around to my stomach.
I bite my lip and try to fight the tingling of my skin wherever his hands move. I’m in the room I’ll be sharing with his mom for the next seven days. I cannot do this with him right now. What if she forgot something and comes back?
“Brad,” I whisper.
“Uh-huh.”
“As much as I’m enjoying this, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“What if they come back?”
“They won’t.”
“What if your mom forgot something?”
“Like what?”
“A sweater? The dining room could be cold.”
His hand dips lower and he says, “Are you sure?”
I groan, but nod. He removes his hand, zips up my dress and spins me around to face him. “How about this instead?” He cradles my head in his hands and kisses me like there will be no tomorrow.
When he pulls away, I have to run my tongue over my lips to make sure they’re not swollen. “That will do,” I reply, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.
Ten minutes later, we show up at the elegant three-story dining room decorated with enormous ornate glass chandeliers in a rainbow of colors. They look like artwork that belongs in a museum, not a restaurant. We’re escorted to our table where Gil and Gigi are already sitting, each with a glass of red wine. The table is in a nice location at the back of the boat and next to a window. We’ve only been sailing for a few hours, but land is no longer visible. We’re officially in the middle of the ocean.
“How was your afternoon?” Gigi asks.
“Fun,” I answer, taking a sip of water. “We explored the entire ship, went ice skating, and road the bumper cars and carousel.”
“And took a nap on the Lido deck,” Brad adds. “What y’all do?”
“We had our spa treatments and then spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the Spa deck, sans kids.”
“I’m hurt,” Brad says, holding his hand to his chest.
“I thought you’d be happy to have us out of your hair,” she replies with a wink. She is totally okay with me and Brad getting together now, I just know it. I’m not sure what changed in her mind, but she’s not even being subtle anymore. Gil, on the other hand, doesn’t give me the same vibes, which means we still need to be careful.
“So, Dad, any advice for me for when I get to Duk
e?”
I’m impressed by Brad’s upbeat attitude after lunch. He’s trying to make the best of a bad situation. Based on what happened earlier, I expected a much more tense interaction.
“Classes to avoid? Cafeterias to frequent?” he asks.
He looks at Gil who eyes him over the rim of the wine glass held to his lips. He lowers it without taking a drink and then clears his throat. “No.”
“Of course you don’t. You can’t even talk to me anymore.” Brad slams his palms to the table. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. So much for making the most of a bad situation. More like it was a set up. This is exactly what I expected. He’s reached his limit.
“Brad—“
“I’ve put up with your shit long enough!” he says, interrupting him. “I get it, I disappointed you! But I also won the championship, got numerous football scholarships, and decided to attend your alma mater. What more do I have to do? What else can I possibly do?”
“Brad—“
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Let me finish. Yes, I’m having a baby, but it’s not the end of the world. I’m still doing everything I planned. It’s not ruining my life, so how can you still be so mad about it?”
“Brad—“
He holds up his hand and continues, “You’re supposed to be some great psychiatrist, but you’re treating me like shit. I’m sorry I’m not the perfect son you’ve always dreamed of. I’m sorry I made a mistake. I’m sorry I’ve made it impossible for you to love me anymore!”
“Are you done making a scene?”
“Not yet.” He stands and slams his chair back under the table, causing the glasses to shake and spill water onto the fancy tablecloth. Then, he storms out of the dining room, drawing even more stares from our neighbors. I notice a few of them look at me and then glance down to my belly. I suck it in reflexively, not wanting them to think I’m pregnant.
I catch Gigi’s eye and she motions for me to go after Brad before glaring at Gil, who’s just shaking his head. When I peek around me, everyone is still staring at us, so I take advantage of Gigi’s offer and high tail it out of there.
Chapter 30
BRAD
I stand at the elevator bank, fuming, and wonder where I should go for dinner.
“Hey,” someone says, putting her arm around my waist and startling me. I look down to find Hailey with a sad smile. I wrap my arm around her back and am thankful that she followed me. It’s like she took a side and it’s mine, not his.
“Where you headed?” she asks.
“As far from him as possible.”
“We’re on a boat. That’s not going to be very far.”
“Unfortunately.”
An elevator door opens and we step inside. It’s one of the glass ones, so we get a view of the entire atrium painted with lights and covered in sculptures as we ascend. Everyone below looks much happier than us, drinking, dancing, and laughing.
“Do you feel better after getting all that off your chest?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
The elevator stops at the tenth floor and we exit. I steer Hailey through the casino, two lounges, and an indoor pool before reaching a buffet restaurant.
“Sorry, I ruined your dinner,” I say, grabbing a tray and silverware and passing them to her.
“You didn’t ruin it. We’re eating now.”
“This isn’t as nice as the dining room.”
“It looks plenty nice to me.”
We select our food and sit at a small table in the corner and next to a window. It’s dark out, so all we’re able to see is the occasional white cap in the sea.
After a couple minutes of silence, she tears off a piece of her roll and says, “Your mom looked really angry with him after you left.”
“Good.”
“Maybe he’ll be nicer now that he knows how upset he’s made you.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t want to talk about this, do you?”
“Not really.”
The rest of the meal is quiet. I stew and she lets me. That’s one of the many things I like about her—she never forces me to do anything I don’t want to do, including talking about Dad.
Afterward, we head to the Lido deck and find a couple lounge chairs to watch the nightly movie. It’s an older action flick I’ve seen twice already, but the movie and holding Hailey’s hand are nice distractions from Dad.
*****
“Brad, honey.” I hear the words only moments before someone shakes my shoulder. “It’s morning. Wake up.”
I open my eyes and yawn, totally confused. “Where am I?” I ask, stretching my arms overhead, but my elbow hits something next to me. I glance down and it’s Hailey’s head.
She sniffs and curls up even smaller into my right side, apparently still sleeping. I brush her bangs out of her eyes and scoot over to give her more space.
“You’re outside,” Mom says. She’s sitting on a lounge chair next to me. “You two never came back to our rooms last night.”
Now I remember. After the double-header movie showing, Hailey and I stayed on deck to watch the stars. When the temperature dropped, she joined me on my lounge chair to stay warm and we must have both fallen asleep.
“Your father wants to speak with you.”
“Great.”
“I wouldn’t mention this,” she says, motioning to Hailey, “to him. You know I could never kick her out, but he still feels that you two need to wait until she’s eighteen. Let’s just deal with one issue at a time.”
I nod and stretch my left arm overhead again.
“Why don’t you wake her up and then come back to the room. I’ll take Hailey to breakfast and you and Dad can go someplace by yourselves and finally talk through this.”
“I’d rather do a swan dive off the back of the ship.”
She pats my shoulder. “We had a long talk last night. It won’t be nearly as bad as you’re expecting.”
She stands and goes inside, so I lightly rub Hailey’s back, taking advantage of this moment. We’ve never woken up in each other’s arms, and it’s definitely a nice way to start the day.
She sighs in her sleep and I contemplate closing my eyes again. Unfortunately, some early risers are already out for their morning swim, so it won’t be nearly as peaceful in a few minutes.
“Hailey?” I whisper, pressing my hand more firmly to her back. She takes a deep breath and blows out, her lips parting slightly. Her shoulders rise and fall in time with her breaths, causing her chest to brush against my arm each time. I’ve never watched someone sleep before. Honestly, I’m sure I would have assumed it’d be about as interesting as watching paint dry, but it’s not. She’s calm, relaxed, and completely vulnerable. It’s probably my inner caveman that finds her irresistible in this state.
I lean over and kiss her forehead.
She stirs, so I kiss her cheek.
She opens her eyes, so I kiss her on the mouth. A very gentle, but thorough kiss to let her know just how irresistible I find her this morning.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” she says with yawn after we separate.
“Sorry, but we need to get back.”
She nods and swings her legs over the side of the chair. “Your parents must be freaking out.”
“Not really. Mom stopped by. You’re going to breakfast with her, so Dad and I can talk.”
She stills and gives me a sympathetic look. “Are you ready for that?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I help her out of the chair and hold her hand all the way to our rooms. When we’re standing outside the doors, she asks, “Did your mom find us sleeping together?”
“We weren’t really sleeping together.”
“We were sleeping together, but not,” she uses her fingers to form air quotes as she continues, “sleeping together.”
“She saw. She’s cool. Dad’s still in the dark and we need to keep it that way.”
She nod
s and then uses her key to enter the girls’ room. I take a deep breath and enter my room.
“Where have you been all night?” he asks as soon as I clear the door. He’s standing inside the bathroom, applying deodorant.
“I slept outside on the deck,” I say, passing by him to open the curtains and let the sunshine in. Hopefully, the light will help me feel less claustrophobic in this tiny cabin.
“Why?”
“I didn’t want to see you last night.”
He joins me and shakes his head. “You can’t just run away from your problems.”
“What problems have I run away from, Dad?” I ask, spinning around to face him. “Am I running away from Michelle? No. Is there some other problem I’m running away from? I ran away from you last night because I’m sick and tired of the way you’re treating me!”
He takes a deep breath. I expect some stern retort, but instead, he says, “I deserve that.”
“You do.”
“Probably worse.”
“Yes,” I agree, taking a step closer to him. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for the past two months.”
He takes a step toward me. “What else have you got?”
“You’re a hypocritical dick.”
“Keep them coming,” he says, waving his hands toward his chest, inviting the barrage of insults I’ve had bottled up for weeks.
“A shitty dad. A dime-store shrink. An egotistical know-it-all. An over-controlling perfectionist. A wannabe football star riding on his own son’s coattails. And … “ I take a breath before finishing. “A fucking lousy singer! You’re not Justin Timberlake and will never be, so stop assaulting our ears every time we’re in the car with you!“
“Feel better?”
“Yes,” I mumble, sitting on my bed. I feel better and worse, actually. Better because I got my anger out, but worse because he didn’t deserve all of those.
“Good. Now, let’s talk.”
He sits on his bed and faces me, our knees practically touching. I keep my head lowered while he says, “I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
“I know. I’ve treated you unfairly the past few months. I’ve held you to a standard no one could ever achieve. I wanted you to have no flaws whatsoever. That’s neither realistic nor healthy.”