The Romantics(65)

It was 6:45 by the time they got to the Raleigh–Durham Airport.

There was a huge line of cars when they got to the RDU departures terminal.

“I’m going to run,” Gael said. “Screw this.”

His mom nodded, and he reached for the door.

“I love you, Gael,” she said.

He looked back at her.

She took a deep breath. “And I want you to know that I love your dad and I love your sister. And I’m sorry for all the hurt that I’ve caused. I’m sorry for putting you through all this.” Her voice choked, just a little, but then she quickly pulled it together. “It doesn’t change how much I love you all, though. Please know that. It’s just that sometimes people grow apart.”

Gael shook his head. He didn’t have time for this, and yet he desperately wanted to hear what she had to say. He was still holding out for a real reason why she’d left his dad.

“What does that even mean?” he asked.

She sighed. “You’re going to go off to school next year. And it’s going even faster with Piper. You’re dad is content. This is all he wants. You guys and Chapel Hill and his work and all that.”

“And what do you want?” Gael asked, his bottom lip beginning to tremble. “To move away and never see us again?”

She shook her head. “Of course not! Not for years, at least. But I don’t know, down the road, maybe? Or maybe I’ll travel. Maybe I’ll take Piper to France for a summer. Maybe I’ll quit teaching, do something else.”

“But why couldn’t all that happen with Dad?” he asked.

His mom looked down at her hands, then back up at him. “Because it’s not what your dad wants. He needs someone who wants to stay put. I need someone who wants to keep going. And I thought for a long time that you guys would be enough, and I love you so much that I feel guilty even thinking it, but I have to live for me, too.”

Gael stared at his mother. At the woman who’d been there for him every day since forever, the woman who’d done something so unexpected as this, the woman who, until now, had never really appeared to Gael like a separate person, with her own life and her own problems that didn’t all revolve around being his mom.

(And even though she was talking to Gael, in a way, she was talking to me, too. Angela Brennan was a Dreamer7 when it came to romance—she always had been—and maybe, as awful as it was, Arthur wasn’t her dream anymore. Maybe even though what they had was beautiful, it wasn’t meant to last forever. Maybe there really wasn’t anything I could have done, even if I had been around more. Maybe this was how it was all supposed to work out.)

“I really should go, Mom,” Gael said.

(All of a sudden I wanted so badly for him to forgive her. Because all of a sudden, I had forgiven her.)

She smiled. “I know. I just wanted to say that. I’ll be waiting in the short-term parking. Take your time.”

He hopped out of the car as quickly as he could, shutting the door behind him. She began to pull away.

(I gave him one last tiny nudge.)

He started for the sliding doors, but then he turned back, rushed at his mom’s car, knocked on the window.

She rolled it down. “Did you forget your phone, honey?”

Gael shook his head. “I just wanted to say that I love you, too, Mom.”



* * *




7. Dreamer: One who views romance as the ultimate act of self-fulfillment, seeking constant challenge and growth. May result in a constant desire to define and improve the relationship, make plans for the future, and lose faith when the future doesn’t turn out exactly as imagined. May also result in incredibly deep romantic connections and emotional bonds.





r-d-eff you, part one


Gael hurried through the doors marked Delta at RDU’s Terminal 2, his heart racing a million miles a minute.

Miraculously, there was no one in line. Perhaps the universe was actually looking out for him for once? he thought.

(The universe has always been looking out for you, Gael.) He stepped up to the counter. The half-cocked plan he and his mom had formed on the way over was to buy a ticket for the same flight so he could get through security and hopefully still stop Sammy. He had about three hundred dollars in his checking account, and she’d even fronted him an extra hundred; he was praying that it was enough.

The woman behind the counter looked to be in her thirties, with layers and layers of makeup and eyebrows arched so she looked permanently perky. “How can I help you?”

“I’d like to buy a ticket for the seven-forty-five flight to Baltimore,” he said, trying to sound at least somewhat calm.

“Cutting it a little close, aren’t we?” Her plastered-on smile got wider.

Gael shrugged sheepishly.

“Let’s see if we have any seats left.”

Her fingers went to work on the keyboard, typing furiously, while her eyebrows moved up and down with almost every new click of the Return key.

Finally, she said, “You’re in luck. We have one seat left. Is coach all right?”

Gael nodded. Thank God. He didn’t even want to think about how much a first-class ticket would cost. “Coach is perfect.”

“Great,” she said. “The total with taxes and fees will be one thousand, two hundred, and six dollars and thirty-three cents.”