Relativity (14 page)

“I know you will think this is corny but these really are the best days of your life,” he urges, making a right.

I have no doubt that he believes that and I’m sure for him maybe his last days of high school were his best days, but he also wasn’t dealing with the loss of a parent. But I know he just means the whole lack of responsibility thing and I get that.

“Ripley, would you describe your mother as a secretive person?” he blurts out.

“What? No!” I shout, surprised by his question.

We stop at a red light and he turns to look at me. He just stares at me for a few minutes like he’s trying to gauge my expression. Then, he smiles gently and turns back to focus on driving. Weirdness.

“Why would you ask me that?” I inquire.

“No reason,” he says, flatly.

I decide not to push it since we are pulling into the headstone place. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t been doing and saying weird, random stuff since Mom died.

Dad pulls into a parking space, puts the car in park, and shuts it off. “We’re here,” he says glumly.

I pull myself out of the car while wondering if I will ever see my dad smile again.

******

“You can’t go wrong with this one,” a perky lady, who is wearing way too much perfume, tells Dad showing off a gray slab of granite that looks exactly like all the other ones we’ve looked at. If there is one thing that Mom dying has taught me, it’s that I want to be cremated. There are just too many damn decisions and being stuck in a box underground forever freaking creeps me out anyway.

“What do you think, Rip?” Dad asks, clearly overwhelmed.

I take a second and act like I’m really pondering my decision then make a split second judgment that I hope isn’t wrong, “I think if Mom weren’t already dead, she would have had a stroke when she saw the prices of these rocks.”

I cringe inwardly at the eerie silence. I was going for a laugh, something to show me that my dad didn’t die along with my mom. Tears threaten to spill over the threshold of my lids when I hear an almost forgotten sound.

My dad has these awesome belly laughs that build somewhere near his large intestine and make their way up his body. By the time they come out his mouth, the sound is so powerful that it almost sounds like God himself is watching a Kevin Hart special.

The familiar sound embraces me like a hug and I start giggling uncontrollably. With both of us laughing hysterically, the sales lady regards us like asylum patients.

“Everyone processes grief differently, maybe you two should come back on a day when you aren’t so, so, um, emotional,” she offers.

Dad and I laugh ourselves out of the building and back into the car. We laugh to the point of exhaustion and it feels euphoric.

“How about some grub, kiddo?” Dad asks, once we finally get ourselves under control. I nod emphatically, knowing that no matter what happens with Knox, or Tate, or even Natalie that Dad and I are going to be okay.

We pull into The Wharf and even though I know it probably isn’t the smartest move to stuff myself full of greasy food before the dance, I know I’m going to do it anyway. I think Dad feels the same way because we both bolt from the car and make a beeline for the entrance. The Wharf is me and Dad’s place. Mom never liked the dark, grease-smelling, probably-barely- passes-the-health-inspection atmosphere but Dad and I could never resist their one-of-a-kind horseshoes and fried mushrooms.

We slide into our usual booth. We used to come here once a week while Mom had her nails done but I can’t seem to remember the last time we were here.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” our usual waitress, Peg declares. She has a roadmap of a face with deep crevices where time has eroded her and her voice sounds like gravel from her fifty-plus year smoking habit but she is always quick with a smile and never gets our order wrong.

“Hi, Peg,” Dad and I say in unison.

A flicker of remembrance flashes on her face and I know in that instant she remembers our recent tragedy. But she’s a pro and instead of layering some uncomfortable condolences on us and dampening our good moods, she stuffs it down and glosses over it. I am so thankful I could kiss her.

“This one old enough for a brewski yet?” she teases, knowing full well that I’m not.

“I only drink hard liquor,” I tease, “but today I think I’ll start slow with a Dr. Pepper.”

Dad smiles, a genuine smile, and my whole body feels like it is glowing. This moment just feels so good that I wish I could bottle it up in case I need to save some for later.

“What’s on tap?” Dad inquires, just to be ornery.

“You’ll drink what I bring ya’ and if you two quit being such pains in the derriere I might even put in an order of mushrooms for ya’s,” she barks, stomping off. It’s all an act but I love it anyway.

“So, how’s it going at Mozzarella?” Dad asks, unwrapping his silverware and placing his napkin in his lap. Just because we are eating at a sketchy establishment doesn’t mean we have to behave like animals. I follow his lead while realizing that one napkin in this place is never enough.

“I still get nervous sometimes that I’ll drop a pitcher of pop on somebody,” I admit. I leave out the part about having a daily internal battle with myself not to pull Knox into the refrigerator and have my way with him. Not that he has any use for me now, but as hard as I try to block thoughts of us together sometimes they come rushing back at inappropriate times.

“You’ll be fine. Chad and Bea never would have hired you if they didn’t think you’d do a good job.”

“I guess,” I agree, half-heartedly. I never considered how disappointed Chad and Bea would be if they knew about Knox and I. It is amazing that what started with one simple look could crush so many lives. But I guess I don’t need to carry around guilt about that anymore since we are over before we started.

“Besides, you’ll have a blast working with Nat. How is that little Tasmanian devil? I haven’t seen her lately.” Dad asks, referring to Natalie by the nickname he gave her years ago.

I wish I could blurt out the truth to Dad about how concerned I am about Natalie but he can’t handle anything this serious yet. I need to stay superficial for as long as possible because it is going to take long enough for him to digest his own shit storm of a life.

“Oh, she’s good. Excited about college, maybe a little nervous about leaving home,” I lie, hoping my nose isn’t growing. I can’t even put my finger on what is making me so concerned about Natalie. I should be happy that she is going to the prom with Connor, but something just feels off.

“It’s a hard time. People think you should act like an adult but you still feel like a kid. It’s rough, even when you don’t have extra stuff weighing you down.”

Peg sets our drinks and our mushrooms on the table and our focus turns to eating and the Cardinals game on above the bar. We chomp our way through our open-faced horseshoes and waddle out the door to the car, taking care to leave Peg an extra generous tip.

We drive wordlessly home, neither of us wanting to descend back under the black cloud that seems parked over our house.

I know that there are going to be many moments in my life when I really wish Mom was here. Right now is one of them. I’m trying to flat-iron my long blonde locks perfectly and I’m just not as good at it as she was. When I’m finally satisfied that it looks as good as it is going to get I slip into my dress and shoes and survey the finished product in the mirror.

People have always told me that I look like my mom but I never saw it until now. We used to constantly get mistaken for sisters, which used to get on my nerves, but now I realize what a compliment it was. I miss her so much and sometimes I could swear that I can still hear her laughter. Like the walls soaked up her energy and every so often they release a tiny bit of her.

I know that she would be happy about me dating Tate. It isn’t that I don’t think she would have approved of Knox, but I know our age difference would have bothered her. She had a certain path that she wanted me to walk and I know that I need to stick to it to honor her. Besides, Knox is with Greer and us being together would hurt too many people.

Natalie doesn’t know about the hotel room yet. I’m dreading telling her because she is going to be so mad when I tell her that I have no intention of going there with Tate. If she wants to be with Connor so soon that is her business, but as for me, I’m going to be kicking it celibate for a while until I can trust myself to make better decisions.

I hear the doorbell so I make my way carefully downstairs. Dad has already let Tate inside. He looks adorably awkward in his crisp black tuxedo with dark turquoise-colored silk tie. He is holding a plastic container with a beautiful corsage to match my dress. I don’t remember giving him any details about my dress but somehow he knew. A smile breaks across his nervous face as he spots me coming down the stairs.

“Oh, sweetie, you look amazing,” Dad says, snapping a million pictures.

“You look amazing, Ripley,” Tate echoes.

“Thanks.” I let Dad take as many pictures as he wants without putting up a fuss like I normally would. He is trying so hard to look happy but I can tell he’s miserable.

“What are you going to do tonight?” I ask him, as we prepare to leave.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he replies, kissing me on the forehead as Tate holds the front door open for me. I know that his idea of fine consists of a night alone with a microwave dinner and hours of mindless television.

“I won’t be out too late,” I promise.

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he says, closing the door because I know he’s about to lose it.

I think he could tell that seeing him with Karen kind of freaked me out, even though I never said a word, because as far as I know they haven’t talked since then. I feel like a selfish brat as Tate escorts me to his pickup truck because I should have let Dad enjoy the tiny bit of happiness that he could find.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” Tate asks, sliding in the driver’s seat.

I nod my head, resolved to pull myself out of this funk and have a great time. “I’m happy to be with you,” I tell him, forcing myself not to think of Knox tonight. Tate deserves my full attention.

Prom is being held at the same hotel where Knox rented us a room. The rooms are at one end of the hotel complex and the ballrooms where the dinner and dance is held are at the other end. The ballroom is decorated in a Hawaiian theme, sand and palm trees dot the room with bright, colorful streamers and balloons strung across the ceiling.

Tate and I chat with several people, slowly making our way around the room. We stop at the photographer and get our pictures taken in front of a Hawaiian sunset backdrop. Tate gently takes my hand as we make our way to our table. I don’t hate the way my small hand feels in his giant one. Who knows, maybe things between us will progress into something serious.

We find our table and Tate pulls out my seat for me. We sit down and chat with the three other couples already seated. I glance frantically around the ballroom for Natalie and Connor but they still aren’t here. We mess around, taking several selfies before picking our favorite and posting it to Facebook.

“I know about a party afterwards if you feel up to it,” Tate suggests.

I wonder how he would feel about the hotel key card tucked away in my purse. Not that I’m going to tell him but every time I allow myself to think about Knox having sex with Greer I’m tempted to use Tate as a revenge fuck. But I know the only person I’d be screwing over would be myself. It is going to take a lot more than sex with Tate to get over Knox.

“You look divine,” Natalie shouts, approaching the table. I get up and give her a hug, never happier to see her.

“Nat, you look beautiful,” I say. She looks amazing with her lips painted the same cherry red as her dress and her shoulder-length black hair swept into an elegant twist.

“Let’s use the little girl’s room,” she says, pulling me out of my chair.

“We’ll be right back,” I tell Tate, grabbing my purse.

I follow Natalie out of the ballroom and down a hallway to the restroom.

“I have something for you,” I tell her, digging in my purse.

“If it’s a condom, I’ve already got that covered,” she snickers, checking her makeup.

I flash the hotel key, teasing her.

“Holy shit, how’d you get that?” she asks, her eyes alive with excitement.

“Your big brother came through after all,” I reply, trying to keep any weirdness out of my voice.

Natalie grabs the key card and slips it into her purse. “We are going to party so hard tonight.”

I cringe, not looking forward to telling her that I have no intention of spending the night with Tate. “Nat, I’m kind of worried about my dad so I’m not going to stay past the dance.” I feel like a shit for using Dad as an excuse but it isn’t a total lie.

She looks amazingly undeterred. She must really like Connor and want to be alone with him. I was afraid she wouldn’t take it well so this makes me feel better. “I think I’ll just keep this our little secret until the end of the night,” she says, practically giddy.

“Yeah, I’d prefer not to tell Tate because I don’t want him getting his feelings hurt. He’s really sweet, but I just want to take it slow.” As in glacially slow, the polar opposite of how quickly I jumped in bed with Knox because look where that got me.

We make our way back to the guys in the ballroom. The deejay has got the whole room dancing so we drop our purses off then drag the guys to the dance floor. I’m having so much fun I almost completely forget about obsessing over the things Knox is probably doing to Greer’s body right now. Almost. I can’t help but wish that he could have seen me in my dress tonight though because I know he still wants me as much as I want him.

“And now is the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” the deejay announces. “The naming of this year’s prom king and queen and their attendants.”

Everyone makes their way back to their tables so that the winners can have the dance floor. Natalie throws me a wink when I notice Connor grab her hand. I was so worried about her for a while but now that she likes Connor I know she’s going to be okay.