by K. M. Walton
Oscar squinted before grasping my hand. “Yeah, sure. But, I thought you wanted to be just like Dad.”
I’d sat on the sofa and motioned for him to do the same. “When Mom was still alive, I used to think that was how it was supposed to be, that guys couldn’t be faithful.” I shook my head. “But after my accident, things changed for me. It was like I saw everything differently. Dad treated her like shit. She wasn’t happy. I saw it in her eyes in your drawing. I saw it in her eyes in real life. And Dad definitely wasn’t happy. I think all the drinking he did after she died was his guilt. Deep down, I think he knew he fucked up.”
Oscar held his fists next to his temples and then fanned his hands out wide. “Mind. Blown.”
“I feel things too. Wild, eh?”
We’d sat till ten o’clock talking. Another first for us. I’d even walked him through what to text Jacque and where to go on their first date—the Black Bean coffee shop in town.
They’ve been inseparable ever since.
I pulled my cap down a little as I neared the gym doors. Oscar still hadn’t answered me. “Hellooo? Is Jacque meeting you before she goes in?” She was graduating today too.
Oscar stared through me. I snapped in front of his face. “Sorry,” he said. “Yes. She’s meeting me right here.”
“Vance, before you go in, what I love about classical music is that it’s complex. The way it let me escape to a place where I could just be. It’s the way it allowed me to remain introverted but all the while challenging me with its aesthetic lure—”
I grabbed his shoulders. “Dude, you said you were going to stop talking like that. Remember? And you’re not making any sense. I gotta go. Cheer loud when they call my name, okay?”
Oscar returned the gesture and clasped my forearms. “Wait. I have a point. I’m complex. You’re simple. And I don’t mean that as an insult. I’m the ying to your yang. We complement each other. Down. Up. Ying. Yang.”
I smiled and gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Whatever you say, buddy.”
“I know what I want now.”
His eyes were glassy. Crap, I didn’t want to walk in there crying. He knows what he wants? Huh? “Can we talk about it afterward?”
“What you owe me, remember? For breaking the news to Dad for you? I finally know what I want. The hatchet that we’ve carried around since childhood, I’d like it buried. Underneath concrete.”
Oscar extended his hand and I grasped it. After a few shakes, I pulled him in for a hug and we smacked each other’s backs. “Look at us. We’re doing it again.”
Acknowledgments
To my husband and sons—Todd, Christian, and Jack—you three are my magic.
To my first readers, Mary Anne Becker-Sheedy, Todd Walton, and Christian Walton, thank you for your fervent belief in me and my writing—it does a stellar job of silencing the doubt monster.
To my critique partners, Elisa Ludwig and Christina Lee, your discerning feedback was beyond helpful while shaping this book, thank you. I am a lucky author.
To my agent, Jim McCarthy, thank you for adopting me with such graciousness and verve and for alllllll of your hard work.
To my editor, Annette Pollert-Morgan, your keen eye continues to push and enrich my writing, and for that I will be eternally grateful.
To my sister, Nikole Becker, who, like in Cracked, is once again an actual character. The amazing character Ms. Becker is solidly based on her. She is an incredible social worker with an incredible heart.
To my mom, stepfather, sisters, brother-in-laws, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, and in-laws, thank you for loving me, thank you for supporting me with abandon, thank you for being the best family on earth.
To my COUSINS! COUSINS!, Joe, Kathleen, Lisa, Susan, Francine, Jennifer, Michael C., Robert, Chris, Patty, Colleen, Maureen, Genny, Jimmy, Joe P., Michael M., Jacque, Mike H., Annemarie, Michael M., Morgan, and the late John, I am so blessed to be part of the McGettigan legacy. Thank you for the lifetime of love, friendship, SUPPORT, laughter, and dancing.
Thank you to the team at Sourcebooks for all your hard work behind the scenes. What a brilliant village!
To my dedicated and passionate readers, I drop infinity thank-yous at your feet.
About the Author
K. M. Walton is the author of Cracked and Empty. Mean people baffle her—she’s so passionate about acceptance that she gives school presentations titled “The Power of Human Kindness.” K. M. lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, two sons, and cat. Visit the author at kmwalton.com.
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