Along for the Ride (27 page)

I stepped back into the room, sitting down on the other bed. ‘Heidi what?’

He sighed again. ‘She hides everything. Keeps it deep down, and you think everything’s fine, but then one day, out of nowhere, it suddenly explodes in your face. She’s not fine, she’s unhappy. You haven’t been doing enough after all. Oh, and you’re the worst father ever, also.’

I waited a beat or two before asking, ‘Did she actually say that, though?’

‘Of course not!’ he snapped. ‘But in marriage, all is
subtext
, Auden. The fact of the matter is that in her mind, I have failed her and Thisbe. From day one, apparently.’

‘So you try again,’ I said. ‘And do better.’

He gave me a sad look. ‘It’s not that easy, honey.’

‘What’s the alternative, though? Just staying here, alone?’

‘Well, I don’t know.’ He got off the bed, walking over to the window and sliding his hands in his pockets. ‘I certainly don’t want to make things any worse than I already have. It’s possible they’d be better off without me. Even probable.’

I felt my stomach twist, unexpectedly. ‘I doubt that,’ I said. ‘Heidi loves you.’

‘And I her,’ he said. ‘But sometimes, love isn’t enough.’ The weird thing was that what bothered me most about him saying this was that it was such a lame, throwaway line. He was a great writer: I knew he could do better.

‘I’ve got to go to work,’ I said, picking up my bag from the bed beside me. ‘I just… I wanted to see how you were.’

He walked over to me, pulling me close for a hug. I could feel that beard, itchy and out of place, rubbing my forehead as he murmured, ‘I’m okay. I’ll be okay.’

Outside, I walked to the elevator and hit the button, which did not light up. I hit it again. Nothing. Then I stepped closer, and bashed it with my fist.

I realized – as it finally lit up, and fast – that I was furious. No: heart-pounding, can’t-even-think-straight pissed off. When I got inside the elevator, the doors closed, mirroring my reflection back at me. This time, I looked at myself full-on.

It was the strangest thing, to be suddenly infuriated, like something he’d said, or done, had uncapped a valve within me, long sealed, and suddenly something was shooting out, gushing like a geyser. As I crossed the lobby to the boardwalk, all I could think was that regardless of the performance I’d just witnessed, it didn’t make you noble to step away from something that wasn’t working, even if you thought you were the reason for the malfunction.
Especially
then. It just made you a quitter. Because if you were the problem, chances were you could also be the solution. The only way to find out was to take another shot.

I was almost to Clementine’s before I realized how fast I was walking, passing people on both sides. When I finally pushed the door open, I was breathing so heavily and so flushed that Maggie jumped, startled, when she saw me.

‘Auden?’ she said. ‘What’s –’

‘I need a favor,’ I told her.

She blinked at me. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘What is it?’

When I told her, I expected her to be confused. Or maybe laugh at me. But she did neither. She just considered it for a moment, and then nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I can do that.’

      Chapter

      FIFTEEN

It was, to say the least, embarrassing.

‘Now, see,’ Maggie said as I got up off the ground, ‘that’s what we
don’t
want to happen.’

‘Got it.’ I looked down, noting my newly scraped knee, which now matched my other one. ‘I just… it feels so weird.’

‘I bet.’ She sighed. ‘I mean, there’s a reason you’re supposed to learn this when you’re little.’

‘Less self-conscious?’

‘Less distance to fall.’

She reached down, picking up the bike and putting it back into a standing position. Once more, I climbed on, resting my feet flat on the ground. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Try again.’

We were at the clearing by the jump park, bright and early the following morning, and one thing was now clear: I did not know how to ride a bike.

If I had, it would have come back to me, along with the confidence that I
did
know what to do once I was up on the pedals and rolling forward. Instead, each time I got moving – even at a snail’s pace – I panicked, wobbled, and fell. I’d managed to go about forty yards once, but only because Maggie was holding on to the back of the seat. As soon as she let go, I veered off into some bushes and wiped out once more.

Of course I wanted to quit. I had since the first wreck, which had been over an hour earlier. It was completely humiliating to have to keep picking myself up off the ground and wiping sand and gravel off my knees, not to mention facing Maggie’s cheerful, go-team expression, which was usually paired with a thumbs-up, even after I’d gone down hard. This was just such a simple thing. Little kids did it every day. And yet, I kept failing. And falling.

‘You know,’ she said, after the next crash, which involved full-body contact with a garbage can, yuck, ‘I’m thinking I’m approaching this the wrong way.’

‘It’s not you,’ I told her, picking up the bike again. ‘It’s me. I’m terrible at this.’

‘No, you’re not.’ She smiled at me, which made me feel even more pathetic. ‘Look, riding a bike involves a great deal of faith. I mean, you’re not supposed to be able to be aloft on two skinny rubber tires. It goes against all logic.’

‘Okay,’ I said, picking some gravel off my elbow, ‘now you’re really being condescending.’

‘I’m not.’ She held the bike as I climbed back on and flexed my hands over the bars. ‘But I do think that maybe we could use some reinforcements.’

I looked at her. ‘Oh, no. No way.’

‘Auden. It’s all right.’ She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, flipping it open.

‘Please don’t,’ I said. ‘Leah will laugh me out of town. And Esther… she’ll just feel sorry for me, which would be even worse.’

‘Agreed,’ she replied, punching some keys. ‘But I’m calling the one person you literally cannot make an ass of yourself in front of. It’s guaranteed.’

‘Maggie.’

‘Seriously.’ She hit another button. ‘Trust me.’

At the time, I had no idea who she was talking about. But ten minutes later, when I heard a car door slam in the parking lot behind us and turned my head, it made total sense.

‘This is a 911?’ Adam said as he walked up. ‘You know you only text that when someone is dead or dying. You scared the crap out of me!’

‘Sorry,’ Maggie told him. ‘But I needed you here fast.’

He sighed, then pulled a hand through his curly hair, which, I now noticed, was sticking up on one side. Also, there were sheet crease marks on his face. ‘Fine. So what’s the emergency?’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘Auden can’t ride a bike.’

Adam looked at me, and I felt myself flush. ‘Wow,’ he said solemnly. ‘That
is
serious.’

‘See?’ Maggie said to me. ‘I told you he was the right person to call!’

Adam came closer, checking out both the bike and me on it. ‘All right,’ he said after a moment. ‘So what method of instruction have you been using here?’

Maggie blinked. ‘Method of…’

‘Did you start with the buddy system, and then move on to assisted riding? Or do assisted riding first, with the intention of a slow, incremental build toward independent movement?’

Maggie and I exchanged a look. Then she said, ‘I just kind of put her on and let her go.’

‘Oh, man. That’s the fastest way to make a person hate the bike.’ He gestured for me to get off and roll it toward him, which I did. Then he climbed on. ‘Okay, Auden. Get on the handlebars.’

‘What?’

‘The handlebars. Climb on.’ When I just stood there, clearly doubtful, he said, ‘Look. If you want to learn to ride a bike, you have to
want
to learn to ride a bike. And the only way to do that is to see how fun it is, once you know what you’re doing. Hop on.’

I shot a look at Maggie. When she nodded encouragingly, I eased myself up on the handlebars, trying to be graceful about it. ‘Okay,’ Adam said. ‘Now hold on tight. When we get going really fast, you can let go, but only for a second, and only when you really feel ready.’

‘I’m not letting go,’ I told him. ‘Ever.’

‘That’s fine, too.’

Then he started pedaling. Slowly at first, and then a bit faster, so that the wind was blowing back my hair and ruffling my shirt. Once we reached the end of the parking lot, he hung a right and kept going.

‘Wait,’ I said, looking back at Maggie, who was watching us, her hand shielding her eyes. ‘What about…’

‘She’s fine,’ Adam said. ‘We won’t be gone long.’

We were on the main road now, moving swiftly along the shoulder, the occasional car passing us on the left. The sun was fully up now, and the air smelled sweet and salty, all at once. ‘Okay,’ Adam yelled as another car passed us, ‘tell me what you’re feeling.’

‘I’m hoping I don’t fall off the handlebars,’ I told him. ‘What else?’

‘I…’ I said as we bumped off the road, onto the boardwalk, ‘I don’t know.’

‘You have to be feeling something.’

I considered this as we started down the boardwalk, which was mostly empty, save for a few early morning walkers and a bunch of seagulls, which scattered as we approached. ‘It’s like flying,’ I said, watching them rise up. ‘Kind of.’

‘Exactly!’ he said, picking up the pace a bit. ‘The speed, the wind… and the best part is, it’s all you doing it. I mean, it’s me, now. But it will be you. And it will feel just like this. Or even better, actually, because it will be you doing it, all on your own.’

We were really going now, the boards clacking beneath us, and I leaned back farther, letting the wind hit my face straight on. To my right, the ocean was so big and sparkling, and, as we whooshed along, it was a steady blue, blurring past. Despite my worry about falling, and my various embarrassments, I felt a strange sense of exhilaration, and I closed my eyes.

‘See?’ Adam said, his voice somehow finding my ears. ‘This is a
good
thing.’

I opened my eyes, intending to respond to this. To tell him he was right, that I understood now, and how grateful I was that he’d given me this chance, and this ride. But just as my vision cleared, I realized we were passing the bike shop, and turned my head, looking at it. The front door was open, and in the second we blew by it I could see the back lights were on and someone was standing at the counter. Someone holding a plastic coffee cup. Maybe we were going so fast that Eli didn’t even see, or if he did, had no way of knowing it was me. But regardless, for one instant, I decided to let go for real, and held up my hands anyway.

For the next week, Maggie and I practiced almost every morning. It was a ritual: I picked up two coffees at Beach Beans, then met her at the jump park clearing. At first, on Adam’s advice, we incorporated what he called ‘assisted riding’, i.e., me pedaling with her holding on to the back of the seat. Then we worked up to her letting go for small increments, while still running behind, so I didn’t topple over. Now, we were increasing those periods, bit by bit, while I continued to work on my balance and pedaling. It wasn’t perfect – I’d had a couple of wipeouts, and still sported scabs on both knees – but it was much better than that first day.

More and more lately, I’d been realizing that my life had again shifted, almost reversing itself. I now stayed home at night, studying and sleeping, and was out in the early morning and afternoon, almost like a normal person. Unlike a normal person, though, I was still spending most of my time alone. If I wasn’t at work or practicing with Maggie, I was at home, avoiding texts from Jason – which were still coming, although not with such regularity, thank God – and phone calls from my parents.

I knew they both had to be wondering what was going on, as I hadn’t talked to either of them in ages, ignoring their calls and subsequent messages. I knew this was childish, and for some reason this actually made it okay to me. Like it was another part of my unfinished quest, making up for lost time. Really, though, some part of me was worried that if I did speak to either of them – even for a moment, one word – whatever I’d barely tapped into that day leaving the Condor would spill out like a big wave, engulfing us all.

The only family member I was talking to was Hollis, but even our contact was sporadic at best, if only because he was so caught up in his new life with Laura. If my dad’s relationship was falling apart, and my mom’s, as usual, never really even starting, Hollis was still bucking convention and his own history. Weird enough that he was still madly in love, long after he usually had lost interest and moved on. Now, he’d done something else shocking.

‘Hollis West.’

Even though I had dialed his number and so
knew
this was my brother, I was still taken aback by his professional tone. ‘Hollis?’

‘Aud! Hey! Hold on, let me just step outside.’

There were some muffled noises, followed by the sound of a door shutting. Then he was back. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘We’re just on a break from this meeting.’

‘You and Laura?’

‘No. Me and the rest of the personal finance specialists.’

‘Who?’

He cleared his throat. ‘My coworkers. I’m at Main Mutual now, didn’t Mom tell you?’

Vaguely, I remembered my mother saying something about a bank. ‘I guess,’ I said. ‘How long have you been there?’

‘Three weeks or so,’ he said. ‘It’s gone fast, though. I’m really clicking here.’

‘So,’ I said slowly, ‘you like it?’

‘Totally!’ I heard a horn beep. ‘Turns out I’m really good at customer relations. I guess all that bullshitting around Europe did train me for something after all.’

‘You relate to customers?’

‘Apparently.’ He laughed. ‘I got hired on as a teller, but after a week they moved me to the customer service desk. So I handle all the account changes, and safety-deposit applications, stuff like that.’

I was trying to picture Hollis behind a desk at a bank, or anywhere. But all I could see was that shot of him grinning in his backpack in front of the Taj Mahal. This was the best of times?

‘So, Aud,’ he said. ‘I’ve only got a few minutes before I go back in. What’s up down there? How’s Dad and Heidi and my other sister?’

I hesitated, knowing I should tell him about my father moving out. He had a right to know. But for some reason, I didn’t want to be the one to tell him. It was like my dad trailing off another sentence, leaving me to do his dirty work. So instead I said, ‘Everything’s all right. How’s Mom?’

He sighed. ‘Oh, you know. Crabby as always. Apparently I have disappointed her beyond belief by turning my back on my independent spirit and joining the bourgeoisie.’

‘I bet.’

‘And she misses you.’

Honestly, hearing this shocked me almost as much as hearing his new job title. ‘Mom doesn’t miss anyone,’ I said. ‘She’s completely self-sustaining.’

‘Not true.’ He paused for a second. ‘Look, Aud. I know you guys have had your issues this summer, but you should really try to talk to her. She’s still having all this drama with Finn, and…’

‘Finn?’

‘The graduate student. Car sleeper? I told you about him, right?’

I thought of those black-framed glasses. ‘Yeah. I think so.’

‘You know the drill. He’s in love with her, she won’t commit, blah blah blah. Usually they scare off easy, but this one, he’s tenacious. He is not giving up. It’s kicking up all her issues.’

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘Sounds intense.’

‘Everything is, where she’s concerned,’ he replied. ‘Look, Aud, I gotta get back inside for this brainstorming session. But seriously. Give her another shot.’

‘Hollis. I don’t…’

‘At least consider it, then. For me?’

I didn’t feel like I owed Hollis all that much, to be honest. So I suppose it said something about his people skills that I still heard myself say, ‘All right. I’ll think about it.’

‘Thank you. And hey, call me later, all right? I want to hear what else is going on.’

I assured him that I would, and then he was gone, back into his meeting. And I kept my word, and did think about talking to my mom. I decided against it. But I did consider it.

Then it was back to the same old, same old. I tried to steer clear of Heidi, who had thrown herself full throttle into planning the Beach Bash. Ignored my parents’ messages. Read another chapter, did another set of study questions. Turned off the light when I felt my eyes get heavy and then lay there in the dark, never believing that sleep would come until the exact moment when it did. The only time I let my mind go to anything other than school and work, actually, was when I was on the bike. And then, I thought only of Eli.