Chapter 16
sixteen
SKYLER
“So you’re definitely not going to have sex with him, but you’re still having dinner with him?” Lee asks me the next day as I put my makeup on in the bathroom. She’s propped up on the counter – or at least my phone with the video chat of her is. She’s in the middle of breastfeeding. Cora has slowed to a drink every twenty seconds or so, which means she’s almost asleep and we need to keep our voices low.
“I think maybe we can be friends,” I murmur, brushing mascara onto my curled lashes. I’m still feeling a bit jaded from last night, even if the evening did end early because Autumn started looking green and Francie called Hudson to ask them to pick them up. It was Asher who arrived, though, and it looked like he and Francie were having heated words again as he helped Autumn out to his car.
“Bullshit,” Lee says, bringing me out of my thoughts. “You’re doing a full face. That means you want him.”
“I’m not doing a full face.” I frown at her image on the screen. She looks so serene in her rocking chair. “I’m just trying to look professional. I’m a business owner now.”
She starts to laugh. “Oh sweetie, you can lie to yourself but don’t lie to me. You like this guy.”
I put the mascara wand back into the tube and let out a long breath. “It doesn’t matter if I like him. What matters is we both know I’ll be the one who ends up in tears at the end. And I’m over being the one who gets all the feelings.”
She gives me a sad smile. I know my big sister wants me to have what she has. But we’re fundamentally different. And she hasn’t met Hudson Fitzgerald. He’s a man who needs a woman who has it together.
I could live a hundred years and never have anything together. But when I try to picture him with another woman – okay, with Princess Di and all her elegant ways – a wave of anger washes over me. I want him. I just… don’t want to want him.
Even with the excess cocktails and the awkward first drinking game, last night was exactly what I needed. And Jesse proved he was one of us in the best way. After his genius intervention last night I’m pretty sure the two of us are firm friends now.
Like you and Hudson?
I frown. Because there’s a huge difference between Hudson and Jesse. And it’s not just money. In fact, I’d prefer it if Hudson had no money at all. I hate that it puts me at a disadvantage compared to him.
And yes, I know that’s my hangup to deal with. Any therapist worth their salt could dig into the veneer of ‘don’t care’ that I paint myself with and find a scared little girl cowering underneath. Just because I’ve never been the type to conform doesn’t mean there isn’t a part of me that wishes I could.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Lee asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
There’s that sad smile again. “I know you feel like you have something to prove. To Mom, mostly, but maybe to me, too. But you should know that I love you just the way you are. And so does Mom, even if she doesn’t show it.”
It’s not often that I get emotional. Maybe it’s the impending remodel of the bar – which Autumn tells me starts tomorrow and will go on for a few weeks. It’s making everything real and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
“What if I mess it all up again?” I whisper. Because that’s my modus operandi after all. The fear I always ignore has somehow slid its way between my ribcage and is squeezing around my heart.
“You won’t.” Lee sounds so sure it makes me worry more. “It’s a bar. You’ve had so much experience with those. And more importantly, it’s your dad’s bar. He was born on Liberty, you’re half.. I don’t know… Libertarian?” She smiles at me. “You have as much right to be on that island as anybody else. And I know you can do this.”
“I wish I had your faith.”
“I wish you did, too. And I can’t help but feel it’s my fault that you don’t.” The baby lets out a soft sigh and she pats her head. “My wedding…”
“We don’t need to talk about that,” I say quickly.
“Yes we do. Because you chose that day, between me and him. And I know things have never been the same for you since.”
Lee being Lee had invited my dad to her wedding. Though they’d never had the traditional stepfather - stepdaughter relationship, he had still been there for a few years when she was young. And my mom had begrudgingly agreed.
And then Wayne turned up drunk to the ceremony. Not a little tipsy either, but falling down, ranting and raving wasted with whiskey.
He’d always been in love with Mom. And seeing her with Bryan at the rehearsal dinner the previous night had made him realize just how much she’d moved on. He’d left the dinner early, and apparently had gone on an all night bender at whatever dive he could find open.
The next morning he arrived at the swanky hotel that Lee had chosen for her dream wedding, reeking of alcohol and looking like he’d been living on the streets for months.
I’d been the first to see him and my heart had dropped. I was only seventeen then. Halfway through my hair being done when another bridesmaid had whispered in my ear that there was a problem, and should we tell Lee?
“No,” I’d said firmly. And I’d told them not to tell my mom, either, because she was ruthless and would have thrown him out without blinking.
I was so sure it wasn’t that bad. It was the first time we’d seen him in years, after all. He’d never been the type to keep in touch. From the age of ten until seventeen I think I’d seen him twice and spoken to him five times on the phone.
And he couldn’t stay sober for one day.
I’d run down to the hotel lobby in my slippers and robe, my hair pinned into curls, only to find him slumped drunkenly on the reception counter, arguing that the bar should be open to the stepfather of the bride.
I’d walked over to him, smiling, trying to work out how to deal with a drunken stranger who I shared blood with.
And then he’d started crying loudly. Telling me he’d forever be in love with my mom and that he’d messed up so badly.
“Talk to her for me,” he’d slurred. “Tell her I love her. You want us back together, don’t you?”
“It’s Lee’s wedding day,” I’d hissed. “You need to sober up. Now .”
“Little Lee. Cute kid. She used to think I was a god, you know?” He’d smiled sadly. “Loved her. Loved her mom.” He blinked at me. “Love her so much.”
“If you love her, you’ll sober up.”
He’d blinked at me then, as though he’d only just realized I was there. “I’m gonna tell her during the ceremony,” he slurred. “I’m gonna shout it out for everybody to hear.”
My blood ran cold. This was Lee’s special day. We’d spent more than a year organizing it. Like everything else she touched, it was elegant, beautiful, perfect.
And I couldn’t let him ruin it. So I called a cab, paid the driver extra to take him to a bar as far away as possible, then took a deep breath and headed back to the makeup room where Lee and Mom were oohing and aahing about her dress.
It was only later, after the ceremony, when Lee asked me where he was that I confessed he’d been drunk and I’d thrown him out.
I hadn’t heard from him after that day. Not until I got the call from his lawyer about his will.
I push those memories away, back down into the dark where they belong. I would always choose Lee above anybody else.
But I hate that I sent him to a bar.
These days, I’m older and wiser. I would have arranged for him to go to rehab, been there for him. But I was too young, too afraid.
And now he’s gone.
The baby lets out a loud cry and Lee hushes her softly. “I should go,” she says. “Diaper changing time.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” She gives me another concerned look. “I wish I was there with you.”
I wish she was too. But I’m not going to tell her that. “I’ve got this,” I say instead. “Maybe I’m finally growing up.”
“You’ve always been a grown up,” she tells me. “Just your own kind of grown up. And I don’t want you to ever change.”
That’s the thing about my big sister. She’s always on my side. Even when Mom pulls her hair out over me, Lee is my loudest cheerleader.
“Go change that poopy diaper,” I tell her, letting out a breath. Push away the sad, let in the happy. “And once she’s clean give her a big kiss from me.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.” I end the call and look at my freshly made-up face in the mirror. If I can face my demons, having to face Hudson Fitzgerald should be a cinch.
I just have to keep telling myself that.