Chapter 45
forty-five
Tate
Finals absolutely killed me this year. Between writing new songs for my social media pages, sending them to Brinley to edit so I could post them, studying for finals, and writing new songs that met my class requirements, I feel like the last couple of weeks for college were a blur.
My confusion about what to do about my relationship with Fletcher added to the stress, making everything ten times more stressful than it was last year. I’ve also been applying for internships at major music firms for the summer. So far, I've been rejected by everyone.
It's not what I want to do when I graduate; I want to make music and tour the world, but I’m hoping it’ll be a stepping stone in the right direction.
Brin has been trying to convince me to audition for one of the numerous singing shows out there, telling me that one of them could be my big break. Still, there’s a part of me that’s worried I’ll go and get rejected before I even start.
I couldn’t imagine going on The Voice and not a single chair turning around during my audition. If I don’t do that, I can live in delusion a little longer and believe one day I’ll make a career out of this.
Honestly, when I didn’t hear back from the Nashville competition I entered, I almost gave up. But all the comments on my videos have also really boosted my ego.
I press send on another internship application and then shut my laptop. I didn’t plan on coming home after finals, but I needed some time to think. So, I used an excuse about my parents wanting me to pack up some of my things and bring them to my apartment; that way, Fletcher wouldn’t question it.
And he hasn’t.
I haven’t completely decided if I’m ready to give up on us just yet. All I know is that I don’t want to look back ten years from now and regret anything. Whether that means I need to end things with him now or not.
There’s a knock on my door, and I kick my feet over my bed and crack open the door.
“Hey Tater-Tot.” My dad smiles, holding up a can of Dr. Pepper and a bowl of popcorn. “I thought we could watch a movie.”
“Hey.” My eyes stare at the items hanging from his hands. I can’t remember the last time we just sat down and watched a movie. “I didn’t know you were home.”
“I finished up early and thought we could have some quality time.”
I want to tell him he’s about fifteen years too late for that.
Again, it’s not as if we didn’t spend time together when I was younger.
I definitely saw him more often than I saw my mom, but he wasn’t around like other people’s parents were.
I tried to make excuses for him when I was younger, but I slowly realized there was no excuse for me to go days without seeing either of my parents.
“If you’re busy, that’s okay too. I know that with going into your last year of college, you probably have a lot on your mind.”
“Yeah, I do.” His smile falters. “But one movie won’t hurt.”
The smile is back, and he nods toward the hallway, his way of telling me to head downstairs.
“What are you in the mood for?” He glances back at me as we walk down the stairs. “I remember when you were little, we would watch Alvin and the Chipmunks Meet the Wolfman on repeat. I had to buy a new VHS every year because we watched it so much.”
“Yeah, that movie is a classic.”
I don’t remember the last time I saw it.
I honestly think the more my dad and I grew apart, the less I wanted to watch that movie.
I almost watched it earlier this year, when everything was going on with Fletcher, because it was such a comfort movie for me as a kid.
However, nowadays, I like watching rom-coms in the hope of feeling something.
“I don’t think they have it on anything. With all of the streaming services, it’s—”
He shakes his head, setting my drink and the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table. “I still have a VHS.” He laughs. “Actually, I have a couple stored away in my office.”
“What?”
“Yeah, like I said, you were so obsessed with the movie when you were younger. I was buying a new VHS every year. Well, one year, I saw that they weren’t going to make them anymore and went and found every single VHS I could.”
“You did that for me?”
“Of course I did. It was important to you. So, what do you think? Should we put it on?”
I give him a strained smile and a small nod.
He grabs the VHS tape from the storage cabinet under the TV and inserts it into the slot.
I sit down on the couch, grab the bowl of popcorn, and toss a handful into my mouth. He comes and sits next to me, grabbing some popcorn as well.
“Do you know what would make this better?” He looks over at me, and the second our eyes meet, it clicks.
“Raisinets?”
He points a finger at me, almost as if he’s saying bingo. “Raisinets,” he repeats. “There should still be a tub in the pantry.”
He jumps off the couch and, a few moments later, comes back with a giant tub of Raisinets and a bowl. He puts the bowl between us, then grabs a few Raisinets and some more popcorn. He throws the combination into his mouth, and his eyes light up.
“I forgot how good this was. Your mom tries to keep things healthy at home. I hide a few snacks like these on the top shelf of the pantry, way in the back, so she can’t see them.
I chuckle.
He wraps his arm around my shoulder and leans in to kiss my head.
“I’m happy we’re doing this, Tater-Tot.”
“Me too, Dad.”
Dad and I didn’t get up from the couch after we finished our movie. Instead, we started doing something we haven’t done in a long time—
We talked.
I told him about the videos I’ve been posting and how great the feedback has been. I also talked about the new friends who have come into my life this year, and at some point, we got onto the topic of Fletcher.
And that’s when it hit me that I never told my parents we were dating. I guess it’s not something I have to do; I’m a grown-up, but most people share that part of their lives with their families.
“So, you’ve been seeing each other since February?”
“Yup.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“I always thought that would happen. You two have been attached at the hip since the day we moved into this house.”
I don’t bother telling him that it wasn’t Fletcher that had me over at his house most hours of the day, but the fact that his house actually felt like a home. Because, in all honesty, it eventually became about spending time with Fletcher.
“Yeah, I guess everyone was waiting for it.”
“And it’s going well.”
My face twists with confusion. It is going well, but it’s also the most confusing relationship I’ve ever had.
“Uh-oh.”
“No, it’s, well, it’s not that. He’s great. I love him. I love him more than I thought humanly possible.”
“But.”
“But we want two very different things out of life, and I don’t know how we’re supposed to make it work.”
“What do you mean?”
“He wants kids. Quite a big family, actually, and I don’t.”
“Oh.” His face drops. “You don’t want kids?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Nope.”
The silence thickens between us.
“I didn’t know that.”
“I don’t really broadcast it.”
“Why?” The question is simple, but I don’t know how to answer it without admitting that the family I was raised in shaped me in that way.
Maybe if I had parents who made having a successful career and a family look easy, things would be different. Maybe if I had parents who made sure I was their top priority while also finding time to advance in their careers, I would be different.
Or maybe I wouldn’t be.
Maybe I’m just the type of woman who doesn’t crave being a mom.
I used to think that made me a bad person, but what it really means is I’m human. And my friends made me realize it’s okay to choose a different path for myself.
“I don’t want to bring a kid into the world if I know they won’t be my top priority.” I shrug. “I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider in your own home, and I don’t want my kid to ever question their worth.”
“We made you feel unworthy?” There’s a distance in his voice.
“I guess. I don’t know, Dad. All I know is that hearing your mom tell your dad that she didn’t want you really makes you rethink a lot of your life. I’ve never craved motherhood, and maybe it stems from the fact that you guys were so distant when I was younger.”
I scratch the side of my neck, my eyes focusing on the empty popcorn bowl in front of me.
“Or maybe it’s never been in the cards for me. I remember Brinley always talking about her future wedding when we were younger and how many kids she wanted. She had everything planned out, even to the smallest details. And I didn’t. I didn’t care like she did.”
“But Fletcher knows you don’t want kids?”
“That’s been the confusing part of our relationship. I never thought about the fact that he might want kids, and then right before his nephew was born, it came up, and he told me he would be okay not having a family, but—”
“You don’t think he’s telling you the truth.”
“I think, he thinks, he’s telling me the truth. But I see it in his eyes.”
“That’s why you came home.”
“Maybe. I just needed some time to think.”
I spent a lot of time sitting by our tree today, thinking about how when he carved my initials into it, it was as if he were carving our story into that tree. Building on what I started many years ago.
I never thought this is where our story would lead us—this standstill.
“Don’t pull away, Tate.” My dad reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “He was your best friend before he was your boyfriend. Don’t pull away and lose both.”
He gives me a sad smile before grabbing the two bowls and the rest of the Raisinets and bringing them to the kitchen. Leaving me with just his parting thoughts—
Don’t pull away and lose both.