Chapter 24 Solana
SOLANA
Crap.
Time to hide!
I go straight into cover up mode, scrambling for my soda can and food container, shoving them in the cabinet of Silver’s TV console. He’s paused at the door, turning for a look back at me to confirm we’re good.
Any evidence of us has been swept under the rug.
I give a nod, then duck into the guest bathroom in the hall. I press myself against the wall, leaving the door cracked so I can hear and peek at what goes on in the other part of the house.
A second later, Silver’s opening the door.
“Tabitha,” he says. “Hey, didn’t know you were coming by. What’s going on, sweetheart?”
He steps aside to allow space for his daughter to enter, running a hand through his hair. Tabby breezes into the house without a care, reminding me of myself at her age.
Head in the clouds, she’s not really paying attention to much other than what goes on in her world.
“Forgot my quiz cards for history,” she says airily. “They’re up in my room. I need them to study for Mrs. Peterson’s test this Friday. It’s going to be brutal, and I need those dates memorized.”
“That’s good… that you’re studying,” Silver adds, clearly thrown off his usual confident game. He clears his throat. “I’m surprised you didn’t use your key.”
“Forgot it at home. Figured it was easier if I came here after school instead of going home then here, you know?” she asks as she steps to Silver and gives him a hug. She sniffs the air. “Dad, you smell weird.”
“Thanks, that’s exactly what every father wants to hear from his daughter,” he laughs. “I was having tacos, so it’s probably the carne asada and grilled onions and cilantro you’re smelling.”
“No, I mean... you smell good. Like perfume or something. Since when do you wear perfume?”
My stomach practically drops to my feet. It’s my mango vanilla body spray she’s smelling, the one I put on after showering here this morning.
I hold my breath, waiting for her to put it together. For her to realize her dad has a woman here.
“Really?” Silver asks, feigning surprise in his tone. He scratches at the back of his neck. “Must be from the waitress at the Mexican place. She was pretty friendly when I picked up my tacos earlier.”
Tabby’s brows raise in typical teenage skepticism, giving him a look that says she doesn’t believe a word he says. But it seems to leave her mind the next second as she heads up the stairs.
Silver remains on the first floor, glancing over in the direction of the guest bathroom. We’re thinking the same thing—we must keep Tabby away from this room at all costs. He has to get rid of her as quick as possible.
“Anyway, guess what, Dad?” Tabby says as she comes back downstairs a moment later.
She beams with pride as she clutches the notecards in her hands.
“I brought my geometry grade up from a D to a C. And I’ve done enough extra credit in English that I’m about two assignments away from getting a B.
Mr. Harrison says my last essay was college level. ”
“Wow, Peanut,” he says, giving an impressed nod. “That’s really good. I’m proud of you. I knew you could get those grades back up.”
“If I do…” she trails off hopefully, waggling her eyebrows.
He chuckles and slides his arms around her shoulders for a fatherly squeeze. “If you do—and you maintain them—we’ll talk about letting you get your driver’s permit.”
“Yesss!” she cheers, bouncing on her feet. “Okay, gotta go! I have mountains of homework, and Britney’s coming over after dinner to study!”
She leans up to kiss Silver’s cheek. He tries to act as normal as he usually would, but it’s difficult for him considering his twenty-year-old girlfriend is hiding a few feet away in his bathroom.
They move through the living room toward the door. I’m sure we’re safe and we’ve pulled this off when Tabby stops short.
“Dad... what’s that?”
I suck in another breath, going still as I peek through the crack in the door.
Tabby’s pointing at the coffee table where, sitting in plain sight, is my lip gloss. The pink tube couldn’t be more obvious as it sits there, the tiny cartoon strawberries on the tube standing out more than ever.
“Crap,” I whisper under my breath, quiet enough only I can hear.
“That?” Silver spares a quick glance, obviously thinking on his feet. “That… must be yours. Isn’t it? From last time you were here.”
“That’s not mine.” Tabby picks it up, turning it over in her hands like she’s examining evidence at a crime scene. “I hate lip gloss. You know it’s so gross how sticky it makes my lips feel. I only wear ChapStick.”
“You sure? Maybe one of your friends left it last time they came over?”
“Dad, it’s been months since I’ve had any friends over your place.” Tabby sets the tube of lip gloss down and peers up at her father with an arched brow. “Are you seeing somebody new?”
Her question is met with the most excruciatingly awkward silence as Silver’s as thrown off as I am. His ears turn red as the gears seem to turn in his head and he thinks up how to respond.
“It’s okay if you are,” Tabby goes on. “Mom is. She thinks we don’t know about Fred, but we totally do.
Jack saw them kissing in the driveway when she thought we were both asleep.
Why else is she dumping us off on you for Spring Break?
She and him are going off somewhere, right?
How long have they been together? Dad… did she leave you for him? ”
“That’s adult business,” Silver says firmly, using his dad voice. “You and Jack need to stay out of it.”
She studies him for a moment longer, squinting up at her father as if she’s debating whether or not to push the subject. Then she seems to decide it’s not worth it. At least not right now.
She looks from him to the lip gloss to the abandoned container of food on the coffee table and the movie paused on the TV screen, and it’s obvious she knows something’s up.
“Fine,” she huffs. “But I am excited about Spring Break though. It’ll be fun staying here for a whole week. We never get to spend much time together anymore.”
A whole week.
My heart clenches as I realize Spring Break starts next week. I can’t stay here with his kids around, but the thought of returning to sleeping at home where Kel died practically gives me an anxiety attack.
“Yeah, Peanut, it’ll be great,” Silver says. He gives his daughter a parting hug, asking her to tell Jack he says hi.
“Okay. Bye, Dad. Enjoy your... tacos.” She almost smirks at him as she turns and leaves.
Once I’m sure Tabby’s gone, I walk out the guest bathroom, my nerves still shot from the close call.
Silver’s standing in the middle of the living room, running his hands through his hair, jaw clenched.
“That was… that was too damn close,” he says without looking at me.
“I know.”
He sighs, his shoulders losing their straight posture as if pulled down by invisible weights. “I hate lying to her. She’s my daughter, and I stood there and lied right to her face.”
“I don’t like it either,” I admit, frowning.
“You know, since I’ve started phone therapy and journaling, one thing Dr. Cortez mentioned was that keeping secrets can be toxic.
It can really eat at you from the inside and destroy your mental health over time.
Keeping everything bottled up is part of what made me so vulnerable before. It made me an easy target.”
Silver finally glances at me, his expression conflicted.
“We’re not doing anything wrong,” I explain, stepping closer. “We’re both consenting adults. You’re not married anymore. I’m twenty—almost twenty-one—which is a grown woman. We care about each other. Why should we have to hide like it’s something shameful?”
“Solana—”
“Maybe we should just tell people,” I go on boldly.
“Come clean about us. Yes, Uncle Eddie might be upset at first, and… and Moses’ll probably lose his mind, but they’ll get over it eventually.
They’ll have to. Your kids might be shocked, but they’ll adjust. Rachel and you are divorced, and she’s dating someone new.
People will talk, but they already talk about everything in this town anyway. ”
“No,” he answers immediately, leaving little room to question him. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why. It’s too complicated. Too many variables. Too much going on.”
“So we just keep sneaking around forever? Hiding in bathrooms and lying to everyone we care about?”
He doesn’t answer, which is answer enough.
The evening is ruined, the easy comfort we’d found watching movies and eating takeout poisoned by the reality of our situation.
We don’t even bother finishing the food or the movie. I mention heading home to practice for the play and Silver nods. He grabs his keys while I gather my things, both of us moving in silence.
The ride to my house feels endless even though it’s only ten minutes. Silver keeps his eyes set on the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. I stare out the window at the dark streets of Pulsboro, wondering how we got here.
How something that feels so right can be so complicated and wrong.
He pulls up to my house, the engine idling. Uncle Eddie’s bike is gone, probably at the club. Moses is who knows where.
The house sits dark and empty, just like always.
“Night,” Silver says tensely.
“Yeah. Goodnight.”
I get out without another word, no kiss goodbye or promise to call later. Just the cold distance that’s suddenly developed between us.
The next few days are torture. Silver and I barely text beyond quick messages about nothing. The one time we talk on the phone, he sounds distracted, giving one-word answers ’til I make an excuse to hang up.
After being together almost every night for the past couple weeks, the distance feels like withdrawal.
I catch myself constantly checking my phone, writing texts I don’t send, wondering if he’s thinking about me too or if he’s relieved to have space.