Feeling caged, I grab my keys—and without realizing it, I’m driving on the highway, driving home. The two-hour drive takes me a little over an hour and a half, but lucky for me I’m not pulled over. I just listen to music and let the drive empty my turning mind.
My parents’ home, just north of Grand Rapids, overlooks Lake Michigan. The house is empty of course. It’s large and professionally decorated, the only warmth inside coming from the sight of the sun setting over the lake framed by the floor–to-ceiling windows.
Ascending the steps to my old bedroom, I dial my mother.
Surprisingly, she answers. “Justin, we’re in the middle of a charity dinner. Please make it quick.”
Miss you too. “I was wondering what time you were getting home.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m here.”
“Here?”
“Home.”
“Oh…we should be home a little after eight. See you then,” she says quickly, and hangs up.
Though my room’s the same as it was when I left for college almost three years ago, it’s always strange to come back to it. Except for once freshman year when I saw my parents for all of five minutes, I don’t come home on weekends. Yet as I lie on the bed and watch the waves roll onto the beach, I feel less confined than I did in the dorm. Still, the solitude eats at me.
Eight o’clock comes and goes without my parents returning home. Desperate for someone to talk to, I call Olivia. The one true love from my childhood. My nanny.
“Hello, Justin,” she answers in a bright cheery voice.
“Miss Olivia.” Though she’s been married for over six years, this will always be my name for her.
“Well, this is a lovely surprise.”
“Not too late to be calling?”
“Never too late for you, love. To what do I owe the pleasure?” I religiously call my former nanny on Christmas and on her birthday, but otherwise I’m too busy. Doing what, I’m not sure. But besides that, she has a family now, a husband and two children, and I don’t want to suck up her time. I already sucked up almost ten years of her life.
“Just needed to hear your voice.”
“What’s the matter, Justin?” Her voice sounds worried and caring. After all these years, she still has a wonderful English accent. I loved listening to her read to me as a child. The simple sight of a childhood book brings back the sound of her voice in my head.
“There’s this girl I met,” I say, clutching my phone and watching the dark waves roll in.
“Someone doesn’t love my sweet boy? How can that be?” she says heatedly, and I’m imagining that if she knew how I’d used women over the past three years, her attitude would definitely change. “Tell me about this girl who has you so devastated you’re calling your nanny.”
I spend the next half hour describing Allie. How her ex hurt her and how I scared her away. Olivia asks questions every now and then, but mostly she lets me talk. Staring out over the rolling water, I realize how much I just needed to talk.
When I’m done, she says, “It sounds like she needs you as much as you need her.”
My sigh echoes in the empty room. “She said she needs time.”
“What she needs is to know you’re there for her. Unlike that other boy.”
I almost laugh at her calling Trevor and me boys. “Maybe…” Hopefully. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“Listen to me closely, Justin. Love isn’t fear. It’s courage. Courage to trust, courage to give, courage to fight. Be fearless and fight for this girl. It’s obvious to me—even from miles away—after forty minutes of listening to you talk that you’re in love. Use your love to be courageous.”
“Damn. You have me feeling like the pussy Gabe called me,” I blurt.
“Words and manners, Justin,” she reminds me, like I’m still five.
“Ah, yeah. Sorry.”
“Now tell me, what are you going to do?”
My mind reels. “Go to her? Talk to her? Tell her how I feel?”
“That’s a start.” Her cheery tone has me imagining her smiling into the phone.
Before we hang up, Olivia makes me promise to visit her this summer. I went to Maine once when I was twelve and felt out of place, but Olivia had only a boyfriend then, not an entire family I’d be invading, But I tell her I’ll visit before hanging up, then getting off my bed and snagging the keys from the dresser.
As I’m walking down the stairs, my parents come in the front doors. They’re dressed to the nines. My mother recently turned fifty, but she has been dressing like a politician’s wife for years. Perhaps that’s her true calling. My father wears expensive tailored suits, but with his graying blond hair down to his jaw, he will never look like a politician.
“Justin!” she says, staring at the keys in my hand. Her forehead scrunches. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, got tired of waiting.” I plop onto the marble bench across from the doors and reach for my shoes.
My mother sets her tiny purse on the entryway table. “Well, we’re here now.” She frowns at me. “You made it sound like an emergency on the phone.”
Yes, an emergency you rushed home to, I think sarcastically. I glance at the large modern clock at the end of the entrance. It’s nine thirty.
Behind her, my father takes off his shoes and opens the entryway closet. Like her, he doesn’t so much as offer a hello.
I shrug. “Just needed to get away and clear my head. It’s clear now so I’m going,” I say, sounding even to my own ears like a pissed-off teenager.
“Mix me a drink, darling?” she asks over her shoulder. Turning back to me, she shakes her head. “When are you going to grow out of the melodrama? You’re almost twenty-one.”
My father steps past me and mutters, “Perhaps his emergency had to do with three Cs and one B.” He’s referring to my winter semester grades, which he has access to online.
Irritation shoots down my spine. My hands clench the edge of the bench. They haven’t seen me since Christmas. Though I never come home, I show up unannounced and this is the bullshit they spout? Wrapped in their own little superficial world, they are so clueless, so selfish.
I’m about to blow. My fingers dig into the marble. Anger swells in my chest until I slowly release my grip, and with it I let go of the need for their attention. My body and mind instantly lighten.
As usual, I hate admitting it but Romeo is right. I need to grow up. I got dealt a shitty hand when it came to parents. But it’s time for me to step up to the plate of life. First of all, there are people out there like Gabe, whose cards are far shittier. Second, there comes a time when you have to let go, man up, and let your actions speak for you instead of letting the past or your parents or any other bullshit define you. A man needs to define himself.
My parents are my parents, not the worst, sure as shit not the best, but there’s no fixing them. But there’s a girl who I’m madly in love with. I need to talk to her, be with her, and prove myself to her. Wasting anger or time or emotion on something I can’t change suddenly makes no fucking sense.
Ice clinks in the kitchen as my father mixes drinks. I slip on my boots, then face my mother as she crosses her arms. “Guess I got homesick for a minute, but I really have to study tomorrow.” I bend and kiss her cheek. “See you in July.” And with a newfound feeling of freedom, I close the heavy front doors on her startled face.
Chapter 32
Allie
It’s almost midnight by the time I get home. Like Todd last weekend, I got burned with a walk-in just before cutoff time at nine. The guy’s eagle took me until almost eleven o’clock to ink. Normally, I don’t mind late walk-ins, especially since Ben stays at my parents’ house on Saturday nights. But this week has been crazy. After dealing with Trevor’s antics all week, I’m drained.