The Romantics(50)

boys do cry


“How do I look?” Piper asked Gael proudly as she and his mom came down the hallway and into the living room on Wednesday afternoon.

Halloween had finally arrived, and Gael and his dad were standing awkwardly in the living room. His mom was going to take Piper trick-or-treating, but his dad had insisted on coming over to see her costume and take some pictures, as if they were all a big happy family once again.

Piper, for her part, reveled in the attention. She was decked out in pasty white makeup, a silver-gray wig, and bright feathers in her hair. Her dress poofed out at the sides to ridiculous proportions, and she held a fan his dad had gotten on Sunday at a junk shop in Carrboro.

Gael took a picture with his phone. “Awesome sauce.”

“Qu’ils mangent de la brioche!” Piper cried with bravado. “That means, let them eat cake.”

“I guessed as much,” Gael said.

“But it actually meant that she didn’t care about poor people,” she said. “Sammy told me.”

Gael couldn’t help but laugh.

His mom pulled out her phone. “Let me get one of everyone.”

“We’re not even dressed up,” Gael said.

His mom waved his protest off with a flick of her hand. “Who cares? I just want all of you together.”

Why? he wanted to ask. Why pretend like things are all right when they so obviously aren’t?

But he didn’t want to cause a scene. He couldn’t ruin Piper’s moment—he’d already done plenty of that lately.

Gael and his dad took their places on either side of Piper. His sister’s dress was so big his mom had to turn the phone sideways to get them all in. Piper struck pose after pose, while his dad beamed. His mom even jumped in for a selfie with the four of them.

After myriad photos, Gael cleared his throat and grabbed his bag of Halloween costume supplies. “I really gotta go,” Gael said, when his mom refused to put the phone down.

“All right, all right,” she said, popping the phone into her pocket and bending down to adjust one of Piper’s ruffles.

His mom stood up and crossed her arms like she did when she was worried for his safety. “Now be careful, and don’t do anything stupid. No drinking. No drugs. No hassling the cops. I don’t want to see you getting pepper-sprayed on the news. Cops these days.” She rolled her eyes.

“Mom.”

“Fine, fine. Off you go.”

He gave his mom and Piper a hug, but he didn’t bother saying bye to his dad.

His dad followed Gael outside, anyway. Since the split, Gael swore his dad was like a needy fourth-grader, looking for friends.

His dad clicked the key to unlock his Subaru. “Let me give you a ride to Franklin.”

A small group of trick-or-treaters approached a neighbor’s house nearby, and Gael watched as a mini ghost tripped over his sheet.

“It’s not far,” Gael said, shaking his head. “I’ll walk.”

“Come on,” his dad said. “I want to drive you.”

“I’m not even going to Franklin. I’m going to my friend’s on campus first.”

“Even better. I have to pick up something at my office.”

“I thought you wanted to see Piper,” Gael argued.

“She won’t go till dark. There’s plenty of time. Come on.” His dad opened the driver’s side door and hopped in, without giving Gael much of a chance to protest any further.

His dad checked about five times to make sure no kids were behind him, as he always did, then he backed out of the driveway and pulled down the street, heading toward campus.

When they got closer to campus, traffic was bad, as Gael had expected. Many of the revelers were already out, and Franklin Street was partially blocked off.

“Where does your friend live?” he asked.

“Avery.”

His dad knew the campus well—even the dorm areas, as Gael had learned—and soon, they were in front of Cara’s dorm. His dad pulled to the side of the road and idled.

“Err, thanks for the ride.” Gael reached for the door.

“Wait,” his dad said.

Gael sighed loudly. “What?”

“What is up with us lately, Gael?” his dad asked. “I feel like you’re angry with me all the time, and I can’t help feeling like there’s something else going on?”

Gael’s shoulders slumped and he twisted the bag in his hands. “Do we have to talk about this right now, on Halloween?”

His dad turned to face him. “Yes, Gael, we do. You’ve been avoiding me like the plague since your birthday. I know that the split has been rough on you—it’s been rough on all of us—but I don’t think—”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s been really rough on you,” Gael interjected.

His dad scrunched up his eyebrows as a gaggle of Super Mario characters walked past their car. “What do you mean by that?”

Gael’s eyes caught the very dorm he’d seen his dad walk into just over a week ago. He was unable to hold it in any longer. “Look, I’m not an idiot, okay? You may have fooled Piper but you haven’t fooled me.”

“Gael,” his dad said seriously. “What in the world do you think you’re talking about?”