Along for the Ride (6 page)

Maybe in the world of girls, this was supposed to be a turning point. When we saw beyond our initial differences, realized we had something in common after all, and became true friends. But that was a place I didn’t know well, had never lived in, and had no interest in discovering, even as a tourist. So I took the checkbook, nodded, and walked out the door, leaving them – as I had so many other groups – to say whatever they would about me once I was gone.

‘So,’ my mother said, ‘tell me
everything
.’

It was late afternoon, and I’d been dead asleep when my phone rang. Even without looking at it, I knew it had to be my mom. First, because it was her favorite time to make phone calls, right at the start of cocktail hour. It wasn’t like I was expecting to hear from anyone else, except maybe my brother, Hollis, and he only called in the middle of the night, having yet to fully grasp the concept of time zones.

‘Well,’ I said, stifling a yawn, ‘it’s really pretty here. You should see the view.’

‘I’m sure it is,’ she replied. ‘But don’t bore me with the scenery, I need details. How is your father?’

I swallowed, then glanced at my shut door, as if I could somehow see through it, all the way down to his. Amazing how easily my mother could get to the one thing I didn’t want to talk about. She always just knew.

I’d now been at my dad’s for three days, during which I’d probably seen him a total of, oh, three hours. He was either in his office working, in his bedroom sleeping, or in the kitchen grabbing a quick bite, en route to one or the other. So much for my visions of us hanging out and bonding, sharing a plate of onion rings and discussing literature and my future. Instead, our conversations usually took place on the stairs, a quick, ‘How’s it going? Been to the beach today?’ as we went in opposite directions. Even these, though, were better than the efforts I’d made at knocking on his office door. Then, he didn’t even bother to turn away from the computer screen, my attempts at dialogue bouncing off the back of his head like shots missing the rim by a mile.

It sucked. What was worse, though, was that if my father was nonexistent, Heidi was
everywhere
. If I went to get coffee, she was in the kitchen, feeding the baby. If I tried to hide on the deck, she emerged, Thisbe in the BabyBjörn, inviting me to join them for a walk on the beach. Even in my room I wasn’t safe, as it was so close to the nursery that even the slightest movement or noise summoned her, as she assumed I was as desperate for companionship as she was.

Clearly, she was lonely. But I wasn’t. I was accustomed to being alone: I liked it. Which was why it was surprising that I even noticed my dad’s lack of attention, much less cared. But for some reason, I did. And all her muffins and chatter and over-friendliness just made it worse.

I could have told my mother all of this. After all, it was exactly what she wanted to hear. But to do so, for some reason, seemed like a failure. I mean, what had I expected, anyway? So I took a different tack.

‘Well,’ I began, ‘he’s writing a lot. He’s in his office every day, all day.’

A pause as she processed this. Then, ‘Really.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘He says he’s almost done with the book, just has some tightening up to do.’

‘Tightening up that takes all day, every day,’ she said. Ouch. ‘What about the baby? Is he helping Heidi out with her?’

‘Um,’ I said, then immediately regretting it, knowing this one utterance spoke volumes. ‘He does. But she’s actually really determined to do it on her own…’

‘Oh, please,’ my mom said. I could hear her satisfaction. ‘Nobody wants to be the sole caregiver of a newborn. And if they say they do, it’s only because they don’t really have a choice. Have you seen your father change a diaper?’

‘I’m sure he has.’

‘Yes, but, Auden.’ I winced. This was like being painted into a corner, stroke by stroke. ‘Have you
seen
it?’

‘Well,’ I said. ‘Not really.’

‘Ah.’ She exhaled again, and I could almost hear her smiling. ‘Well, it’s nice to know some things really never do change.’

I wanted to point out that since this was what she was so sure of, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Instead, I said, ‘So how are you doing?’

‘Me?’ A sigh. ‘Oh, the same old, same old. I’ve been asked to head up the committee rewriting the English core courses for next year, with all the attendant drama that will entail. And I have several articles expected by various journals, my trip to Stratford coming up, and, of course, entirely too many dissertations that clearly cannot be completed without a large amount of hand-holding.’

‘Sounds like quite a summer,’ I said, opening my window.

‘Tell me about it. These graduate students, I swear, it just never ends. They’re all so
needy
.’ She sighed again, and I thought of those black-rimmed glasses sitting on the counter-top. ‘I have half a mind to decamp to the coast, like you, and spend the summer on the beach without a care in the world.’

I looked out the window at the water, the white sand, the Tip just visible beyond. Yep, I wanted to say. That’s me exactly. ‘So,’ I said, thinking this, ‘have you heard from Hollis lately?’

‘Night before last,’ she said. Then she laughed. ‘He was telling me he met some Norwegians who were on their way to a convention in Amsterdam. They own some Internet start-up, and apparently they’re very interested in Hollis, think he’s really got his finger on the pulse of their American target audience, so he went along. He’s thinking it could pan out into a position of some sort…’

I rolled my eyes. Funny how my mom could see through me entirely, but Hollis takes off for Amsterdam with some people he just met, spins it into a career move, and she goes for it hook, line, and sinker. Honestly.

Just then, there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, I was surprised to see my dad standing there. ‘Hey,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘We’re heading out for some dinner, thought you might want to come along.’

‘Sure,’ I mouthed, hoping my mother, who was still talking about Hollis, wouldn’t hear.

‘Auden?’ No luck. Her voice was clear through the receiver, a fact made more apparent by the way my dad winced. ‘Are you still there?’

‘I am,’ I told her. ‘But Dad just came and invited me to dinner, so I better go.’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘so he’s done with the tightening for the day?’

‘I’ll call you later,’ I said quickly, shutting my phone and folding my hand around it.

My dad sighed. ‘And how is your mother?’

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’

Downstairs, Heidi was waiting for us, her own phone clamped to her ear, Thisbe strapped into her stroller. My dad opened the door, and she pushed the baby out as she kept talking. ‘But that doesn’t make sense! I did the payroll myself, and we had plenty of money in the account. It just… well, of course. The bank would know. I’m terribly sorry, Esther, this is so embarrassing. Look, we’re on our way down there right now. I’ll get some cash from the ATM and we’ll work all this out on Monday, okay?’

My dad took a deep breath as we stepped outside. ‘Gotta love that sea air!’ he said to me, patting his hands on his chest. ‘It’s great for the soul.’

‘You’re in a good mood,’ I said as Heidi, still talking, eased the stroller down the front steps, and we started toward the street.

‘Ah, well, that’s what a breakthrough can do for you,’ he replied, reaching over Heidi’s hands and taking the stroller handles from her. She smiled at him, stepping aside as he began to push Thisbe along. ‘I’d been really struggling with this middle chapter, just couldn’t find my groove. But then, today, suddenly… it came together.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Just like that! It’s going to make all the ones to follow that much easier.’

I glanced at Heidi, who was now saying something about bank fees, a worried look on her face. ‘I thought you were mostly tightening,’ I said to my dad.

‘What?’ he said, nodding at a man who was jogging past, plugged into his iPod. ‘Oh, right. Well, it’s all just a matter of fitting things together. A few more days like today, and I’ll have this draft done by midsummer. At the latest.’

‘Wow,’ I said as Heidi shut her phone, then ran a hand through her hair. My dad reached over, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her closer, then planted a kiss on her cheek.

‘Isn’t this great?’ he said, smiling. ‘All of us together, going for Thisbe’s first trip to the Last Chance.’

‘It’s wonderful,’ Heidi agreed. ‘But I actually need to stop at the shop on the way. There’s apparently some problem with the payroll checks…’

‘It’s Friday night, honey!’ my dad said. ‘Just let it go. All that work stuff will still be there on Monday.’

‘Yes, but –’ Heidi replied as her phone rang again. She glanced at it, then put it to her ear. ‘Hello? Leah, yes, what’s… oh. No, I’m aware of it. Look, are you at the branch just down from the shop? Okay, then just walk over and I’ll meet you there. I’m remedying it as we speak.’

‘These girls she hires,’ my dad said, nodding at Heidi. ‘Typical teenagers. It’s always something.’

I nodded, as if I were not, in fact, a teenager myself. Then again, to my dad, I wasn’t.

‘Their paychecks bounced,’ Heidi told him. ‘It’s kind of a serious situation.’

‘Then call your accountant, let him deal with it,’ he replied, making a goofy face down at Thisbe, who was drifting off to sleep. ‘We’re having family time.’

‘He doesn’t do payroll, I do,’ Heidi said.

‘Well, then tell them to wait until we’ve finished dinner.’

‘I can’t do that, Robert. They deserve to be paid, and –’

‘Look,’ my dad said, annoyed, ‘weren’t you the one who said I wasn’t spending enough time with you and the baby and Auden? Who
insisted
that I stop working, and have a family dinner out?’

‘Yes,’ Heidi said as her phone rang again. ‘But –’

‘So I knock off early. On my best day yet, I might add,’ he continued as we rolled up onto the boardwalk, ‘and now you’re not willing to do the same thing.’

‘Robert, this is my business.’

‘And writing isn’t mine?’

Oh, boy, I thought. Change a few details – professorship for business, committees for employees – and this was the same fight he’d had with my mom all those years ago. I glanced at Heidi: her face was stressed, as Clementine’s now came into view, Esther and Leah standing outside together. ‘Look,’ she said to my dad, ‘why don’t you and Auden take the baby and get a table and I’ll meet you there. This will only take a few minutes. Okay?’

‘Fine,’ my dad said, although clearly, it wasn’t.

He wasn’t the only one not happy. Twenty minutes later, just as we were about to be seated at Last Chance, Thisbe woke up and started fussing. At first, it was a low, rumbling sort of crying, but then it began to escalate. By the time the hostess arrived and began to grab menus for us, she was pretty much screaming.

‘Oh,’ my dad said, moving the stroller forward and back. Thisbe kept wailing. ‘Well. Auden, can you… ?’

This was not followed by a verb, so I had no idea what he was asking. As Thisbe kept crying, though, now attracting the attention of pretty much everyone around us, he shot me another, more panicked look, and I realized he wanted me to jump in. Which was ridiculous. Even worse? I did it.

‘I’ll take her,’ I said, grabbing the stroller from him and backing it up to the door. ‘Why don’t you –’

‘I’ll sit down and order for us,’ he said. ‘Just bring her back in when she’s calmed down, all right?’

Of course. Because
that
was going to happen anytime soon.

I wheeled her out onto the boardwalk, where at least the noise wasn’t enclosed, then sat down on a bench beside her. I watched her face for a while, scrunched up and reddening, before glancing back into the restaurant. Past the hostess station, down a narrow aisle, I could see my dad, at a table for four, a menu spread out in front of him. I swallowed, then ran a hand over my face, closing my eyes.

People don’t change, my mother had said, and of course she was right. My dad was still selfish and inconsiderate, and I was still not wanting to believe it, even when the proof was right in front of me. Maybe we were all destined to just keep doing the same stupid things, over and over again, never really learning a single thing. Beside me, Thisbe was now screaming, and I wanted to join in, sit back and open my mouth and let the years of frustration and sadness and everything else just spill forth into the world once and for all. But instead, I just sat there, silent, until I suddenly felt someone looking at me.

I opened my eyes, and there, standing next to the stroller in jeans, beat-up sneakers, and a faded T-shirt that said
LOVE SHOVE
across the front, was the guy I’d seen at the Tip and the boardwalk. It was like he’d appeared from nowhere and now was suddenly right there, studying Thisbe. As he did, I took the opportunity to do the same to him, taking in his tanned skin and green eyes, shoulder-length dark hair pulled back messily at the back of his neck, the thick, raised scar that ran up one forearm, forking at the elbow like a river on a map.

I had no idea why he was here, especially considering how he’d blown me off the last time we’d met, in this same place. But at that moment, I didn’t have the energy to overthink. I said, ‘She just started screaming.’

He considered this but said nothing. Which for some reason, God only knew why, made me feel like I needed to keep talking.

‘She’s
always
crying, actually,’ I told him. ‘It’s colic, or just… I don’t know what to do.’

Still, he was silent. Just like he’d been that night at the Tip, and on the boardwalk. The sick part was that I
knew
he wouldn’t answer, but still insisted on talking to him anyway. Which was so not like me, as I was the one who usually –

‘Well,’ he said suddenly, taking me by surprise yet again, ‘there’s always the elevator.’

I just looked at him. ‘The elevator?’

In response, he bent down and unhitched Thisbe from the stroller. Before I could stop him – and I was pretty sure I should stop him – he’d taken her out, lifting her up into his arms. My first thought was that this was the last thing I’d expected him to do. The second was how amazingly at ease he seemed with her, more than me and my dad and even Heidi, combined.